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?”

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

batted her eyes, the picture

glance, skeptical but bound by orders from Thomas to only keep an eye on Huxley. With no harm done, they decided not to

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

eyes and scampering back to her room, cursing under

and her entourage approached the manor near noon, Mara burst out of the house,

like a live grenade, expecting her cousin to catch

however, stepped back,

Thud!

hard, her

at

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

to do with me?” Vivienne

sprung from the pain. “You may not like my brother and

“Rights? Ms. Boyd, did you ever go to school? Remember, we live in Veridia, not

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

no patience for fools and looked to Percival for

and Thomas stepped forward to pull Mara aside. “I ordered Huxley’s detention. If you have a

his guards. “Percival, what right do you have to