The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

The grand manor was now cloaked in darkness, save for the small pool of light at their feet, where the beam of a flashlight fought back the shadows. The two of them had been standing there in a defensive stance for what felt like an eternity, half an hour at least, while silence reigned supreme.

Other than the sound of their own breathing, not a single sign of trouble pierced the quiet.

The burly bodyguard, whom the staff called “Bulldog,” scowled, “Damn it, what’s going on? Is this just a freaking blackout?”

The possibility of Huxley attempting an escape was laughable. From the moment he’d returned, the Boyd Estate had been locked down tighter than Alcatraz. Mara, the pampered heiress, always had a bodyguard tailing her. Trying to slip away under these circumstances? It would take a Houdini, not a Huxley.

The second bodyguard, known as “Hawk” for his keen eyes, slowly relaxed his stance but remained on high alert. “No idea,” he muttered before pulling out his radio.

“Team three, report in. We’ve got an electrical issue in the manor. Send someone to check the fuse box. I refuse to believe that in a place this swanky, we’d just happen to run into a stroke of bad luck.”

In the darkness, Mara crouched at the corner of the hallway, her eyes fixed on the only illuminated spot in the villa. She bit her lip in frustration. She had managed to sabotage the lighting system, and yet these goons weren’t budging. How was she supposed to rescue Huxley if they wouldn’t leave their post?

Her palms pressed against the wallpaper, her manicured nails inadvertently scratching it, producing a faint, telltale noise.

“What was that?” Hawk, with his acute hearing, picked up on the slight disturbance. In the hush that surrounded them, it might as well have been a siren. At his prompt, the chandelier above flickered back to life.

In the renewed glow, Huxley looked up, his chapped lips twisting into a sardonic smile. “Idiots.”

Outside, Mara was oblivious to his reaction. As the lights flared, her hiding spot was exposed, and the bodyguards downstairs spotted her without even needing to look up.

Bulldog locked eyes with her. “Ms. Boyd, what are you doing here?”

with her fingers. “I… I got scared! The power went out, and I didn’t dare stay alone, so I

batted her eyes, the

by orders from Thomas to only keep an eye on Huxley. With no harm done, they decided

Ms. Boyd. You should return to your room,” Bulldog said, without a shred of warmth, his arm outstretched and his

a glance before averting her eyes and scampering back to her room, cursing

manor near noon, Mara burst out of the house, desperation in her voice.

live grenade, expecting her cousin to

back,

Thud!

hard, her fall breaking the

but laugh at

onlookers filled the air as Mara lay there, indecision written all over her face. Eventually, she pushed herself up, “Percival, you’re finally here. If you hadn’t come, my brother would’ve been tormented to death

do with me?” Vivienne asked, genuinely

the tears that had sprung from the pain. “You may not like my

you ever go to school? Remember, we live in Veridia,

lip. “Percival, look at them. It’s illegal to

for fools and looked

ordered Huxley’s detention. If you have a problem with that, go ahead and call the cops,” he said coldly,

what right do you have to hold me? What have I done