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!”

stomach his ranting any longer,

operation was bad enough without his incessant

times now? If nothing works, maybe we should

was not unwarranted—they could have at least set up a perimeter,

climb the ranks already?” Leopold blurted out, his anger getting the better of him, a clear sign of

even divine intervention could

in the back, responded darkly, “Sure, any

a cold sweat, Leopold realized

Vivienne!” He

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

Agency

true cause of her mother’s

mother, prompting her to choose

within

But now…

mission, she would ensure the traitor learned that neither prison nor

“Yes, I agree. You’ve worked

his face a portrait of dread.

on her lips, while Percival’s normally stoic eyes

their expressions,

by Vivienne or kicked by Percival than

the Grim Reaper

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

rhythmically on the leather seat. “There’s no need for

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

gulped, “You two aren’t thinking of her, are

bomb’s workings from a model,

silence was an answer in itself, their smiles

way, I

tenacious hound he had barely