The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

As the quartet happily indulged in a cozy fondue dinner, Leopold brought over the documents from headquarters.

Peering through the empty doorway, Leopold hesitated, unsure whether to enter.

He texted Anna: [Where are you guys?]

Anna, who had not quite finished chewing her lamb, hit the voice message button, “On a mission, gotta stick to Ms. Vivienne like glue.”

Vivienne said, “Just drop the stuff off, and don’t be a nuisance. You mess up the deal, I’ll break your legs.”

Percival added his own threat, “I’ll dislocate your arm.”

Thomas kept it simple, “Good luck, man!”

Listening to the sounds of bubbling fondue, fizzing sodas, and the stubborn mastication of lamb, Leopold was in disbelief.

Was this really a mission?

This was sheer torture!

But he had no choice; he had to deliver the documents quickly.

Griffin had already sent a reminder in the Little Bombs group chat – a special group Vivienne had created for convenience.

With no other option, Leopold donned a mask and hat, covering himself completely, and entered Griffin’s home.

The evening was setting in, and Griffin had only a desk lamp on, leaving the main lights off.

Three different-colored pens lay strewn across documents, each marking various annotations.

Leopold cleared his throat gently, but Griffin showed no reaction.

He moved closer and tapped Griffin’s head with the documents, “Hey, the papers…”

“Ah!”

Bam!

he staggered backward and collapsed to the

could finally open his left eye again, all

she nonchalantly remarked, “Are you nuts? Sneaking up behind people all in

you didn’t want to see me? How else was I supposed to hide my

burst out laughing. “Since when did you start following

have the energy to argue. I’ve delivered your stuff; I’m out

pointed outside, “It’s pouring rain, and the

dumbfounded, “Wait, what? Why would they tow

blocking traffic,” Griffin said as if it

clenched his fists, grinding his teeth, “Couldn’t you, just maybe, help me out and move

smirked. “Sorry, my garage isn’t

speechless, finally settling on

work as if he was not

rumble. He tapped the

gestured toward the fridge,

nothing but instant noodles and pre-made sandwiches inside, alongside cans of soda – the classic bachelor’s

ask, “Is this what you

hummed an affirmation, “Just me here, so

some reason, Leopold felt a sudden pang

Griffin seemed much thinner than

be on a diet like

of noodles, mumbling, “For a young woman, you could take better care of yourself. Why not keep some veggies or some meat in

to find Griffin

shadow stretched out on the floor under

licked his lips and silently added the only sausage left from the fridge into Griffin’s noodle cup,

the couch, wolfing down the

still engrossed in her research. Bored out of his mind, Leopold eventually dozed

blue pen still clutched in hand, the

instant noodles

“You’re

right eye less swollen, he approached and squatted beside her, staring at her with unknown thoughts in his mind. Suddenly, Griffin’s head dropped, and Leopold caught it as quickly

a little flushed,

few minutes of silence, he lifted her into a more comfortable position on the couch, draping

he tossed it aside, grabbed Griffin’s car keys, and