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!”

unable to stomach his ranting any longer, snapped. “Husky,

was bad enough without his

Leopold retorted. “How many times now? If nothing works, maybe we should

have at least set up a perimeter, avoiding the empty-handed

blurted out, his

even divine

responded

a cold sweat, Leopold realized

me, Vivienne!” He

heard his desperate plea, Vivienne tugged at Percival’s arm, the other hand on the bomb model, and said calmly, “Mr. Wolf, perhaps it’s time for you to

Vanguard Agency had thwarted their

her mother’s

mother, prompting her

possibility of a mole within

But now…

failed mission, she would ensure the traitor learned that neither prison nor the grave would be their

“Yes,

chill. He turned, his face a portrait of dread. “I’m

bomb model, a sly smile playing on her lips, while Percival’s normally stoic eyes

their

be slapped by Vivienne or kicked by

the Grim Reaper was grinning at a

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

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

model, her smile as bright as ever.

“You two aren’t

a bomb’s workings from a model, someone trustworthy and an expert in

was an

“No way, I can’t possibly call Griffin. It’s out of

tenacious hound he had barely shaken