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!”

ranting any

was bad enough without his incessant

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

at least set up a perimeter, avoiding the

out, his

her temples. Now, even divine intervention could

the back, responded

sweat, Leopold realized

Vivienne!”

arm, the other hand on the bomb model, and said calmly, “Mr. Wolf, perhaps it’s time for you

complications within the Vanguard Agency

her mother’s death remained

her mother, prompting her to choose

a mole within the Vanguard Agency, a team her mother

But now…

betrayal had led to her mother’s failed mission, she

intent. “Yes,

felt a chill. He turned, his face a

model, a sly smile playing on

witnessing their

slapped by Vivienne or kicked by Percival than subjected to

Grim Reaper was

it, Leopold clasped his hands, pleading with the pair, “I’m sorry, Vivienne, Percival. I’ll do whatever you ask—climb mountains, swim oceans, even streak

“There’s no need for such dramatics. Just help me

bright as ever. “I wouldn’t dream

aren’t thinking of her, are

person could deduce a bomb’s workings from a model, someone

an answer in itself, their smiles

as he stammered, “No way, I can’t possibly call

the tenacious hound he had barely shaken