The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

Vivienne slammed the phone down with a chilling finality that seemed to echo the icy resolve in her eyes.

Three minutes later, the realization hit both Vivienne and Percival simultaneously.

The bomb research facility was nestled right beneath Eastlake Bay Plaza, spreading its clandestine roots beneath half the square.

The scene suggested a hasty escape; the fleeing suspects only had snatched the crucial documents.

The operatives from the Nine Mystics Society had already evacuated, and Leopold, leading the first squad, had scoured the base thoroughly.

“Vivienne, Percival, check this out.” Leopold approached, cradling a box in his arms.

Percival flipped the box open to reveal a scale model of a state-of-the-art bomb—obviously left behind in the chaos.

This only confirmed the suspicion that the perpetrators had received an urgent tip-off.

Otherwise, they never would have left something so vital behind.

Vivienne extracted the model, a one-to-one replica. While not as revealing as written documents, to the trained eye, it could divulge the bomb’s design.

The bomb’s most unnerving feature was its ability to evade detection—compact, portable, and easy to conceal.

Understanding how it slipped past sensors would be key to preemptive defense.

Vivienne tucked the model away. “I’m taking this.”

Percival nodded. He had no intention of reporting a mere model to the higher-ups. He still had that much leverage.

Instead, Percival simply called Thomas, instructing him to report the escapees’ flight, foregoing a return to headquarters.

On the way back, Leopold was fuming.

“Damn it, if we had set up a blockade sooner, I bet we could’ve stopped them. What are the higher-ups thinking? If they’re worried about civilian safety, just make up an excuse to evacuate. A fire drill, earthquake drill—anything would’ve worked. This is infuriating!”

any longer, snapped.

botched operation was bad

times now? If nothing works, maybe we should just surrender,

unwarranted—they could have at least

Leopold blurted out, his anger getting

even

the back, responded darkly,

into a cold sweat, Leopold realized what he had just

Vivienne!” He yelled

hand on the bomb model, and said calmly, “Mr. Wolf, perhaps

Vanguard Agency had

of her mother’s death

mother, prompting her to

had never considered the possibility of a mole within the Vanguard Agency, a team

But now…

had led to her mother’s failed mission, she would ensure the traitor learned that neither prison nor the grave would be

“Yes, I agree.

felt a chill. He turned, his face a portrait of

playing on her lips, while Percival’s normally

witnessing their

or kicked by Percival than subjected to their chilling

the Grim Reaper was grinning

it, Leopold clasped his hands, pleading with the pair, “I’m sorry, Vivienne,

leather seat. “There’s no

the bomb model, her smile as bright as ever. “I wouldn’t dream of sending him to such

gulped, “You two aren’t thinking

person could deduce a bomb’s workings from a

and Vivienne’s silence was an answer in

went pale as he stammered, “No way, I can’t possibly call Griffin. It’s out of the

hound he had barely