The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

At the TIC Research Institute, Calista strode in with the confidence of someone who owned the place. She slipped into her pristine lab coat, snapped on a pair of gloves, and began to prepare her array of scientific instruments meticulously.

As her colleagues filtered into work, they could not help but cast puzzled glances her way. Unfazed by their stares, Calista selected a few essential tools and turned to the bewildered researchers. “Unless there’s a pink slip with my name on it that I’ve yet to receive, my presence here should come as no surprise,” she quipped with an authority that commanded the room.

The researchers collected themselves. “No, of course not, Dr. Blake.”

“Good, then let’s get to work,” Calista said, her eyes flickering with impatience. “Have these items delivered to my office later. I don’t want to be disturbed while conducting my research.”

She handed a list to her assistant, Holden, whose eyes widened in confusion upon reading it. These items had nothing to do with their current projects.

“Problem?” Calista arched an eyebrow.

Quick to recover, Holden shook his head. “No. It’s just that we’ve never used some of these before, and they could be dangerous if mishandled.”

A scoff escaped Calista. “Playing it safe hasn’t exactly helped us meet Mr. Percy’s expectations, has it? If we don’t innovate, what use will we be to him, or do you fancy yourself a better scientist than I?”

Holden clamped his mouth shut and hurried off to gather the requested items.

Calista retreated to her private lab, a space she had earned as the institute’s director. Here, under the radar of her subordinates, she could delve into the confidential task assigned by the enigmatic Scott. As soon as the door clicked shut, beads of cold sweat dotted her forehead. The pressure of developing a virus under the watchful eyes of so many was immense. Still, she had always maintained an air of untouchable authority, which now served her well in keeping prying eyes at bay.

Pouring over the documents Scott had entrusted her with, Calista’s gaze hardened. The document was highly confidential, and the task was extremely risky. She was playing a dangerous game, but it was the only way to regain her freedom from Scott’s manipulations and regain the attention of the elusive Percival.

With determination and resolve in her eyes, Calista yelled inwardly, “Vivienne, the day this virus sees the light of day is the day of your death!”

already an outcast, and Percival did not even care if she could enter the lab. Plus, Calista was extremely arrogant about her medical skills. Only

meeting with a contact named Quincy, whose real name was

waiting respectfully, anticipated an encounter with the mysterious

met Mr. B, although she had no idea if

nodded and sat down. Under the mask, his eyes were filled with intimidation and inspection as he

was waiting for her to

said, “Mr. B, sorry. They managed to save Dorian and

held his forehead with one hand and continued to stare at Barnaby

and I had no choice but to give them up, but… I got the

time. With surprise, he said, “You got

potion to Scott, saying, “I got this from searching Cordelia’s body. She had modified it and hid it in her bracelet. I don’t know if this is the

potion and walked to

testing it, he confirmed it was the real potion! With

lab with relief and instructed Barnaby, “Don’t show up for now, and take your time to recover from

Quincy to determine if she betrayed the organization as

already planned to slit her throat on the

Quincy was a smart

her brother, Caspian, about what had happened.

that day, he instructed Barnaby to find a way to get close to Mr. B, and he never contacted her again. However, given how cautious he was, Mr. B would

to use this to his advantage to find the true Mr. B.

receiving an update from Draven about Scott’s whereabouts, instructed patience. The time was not right to strike. They needed to wait for

Vivienne put away her phone and looked out across the desolate landscape from her car, she could not help but frown at the location they had chosen for a child poisoned and on the brink of death—a dilapidated building that even the homeless

aside the pebbles and debris