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!”

his ranting any

frustration of a botched operation was bad enough without

can’t shut it,” Leopold retorted. “How many times now? If nothing works, maybe

at least set up a

out, his anger getting the better of him, a clear sign

her temples. Now, even divine intervention could not

responded darkly, “Sure, any other

sweat, Leopold

Vivienne!” He

tugged at Percival’s arm, the other hand on the bomb model,

Vanguard Agency had thwarted

her mother’s

her mother, prompting her to choose

within the Vanguard Agency, a team

But now…

had led to her mother’s failed mission, she would ensure the

subtly, understanding her intent. “Yes,

turned, his face

bomb model, a sly smile playing on her

their expressions,

Vivienne or kicked by Percival than subjected to

Reaper was grinning at a doomed

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

the leather seat. “There’s no

smile as bright as ever. “I wouldn’t dream of sending

two aren’t thinking of

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

was an

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

the tenacious hound he had barely shaken