The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

Actually, Victoria was slumped in the back seat, her head down, furiously tapping away at her phone: "I told you, bringing Sophie along was a surefire way to botch things up. Told you so."

Vivienne, who seemed to have some spare time on her hands lately, responded quickly: "Without Sophie, the plan was doomed from the start."

"Don't think for a second that I don't know what you're up to."

Victoria let out an almost imperceptible hiss, thinking to herself that Vivienne was even better at mind games than she was, and she was an Abernathy.

Shaking her head, she started furiously typing a defense: "Well, it's not like I had a choice, did I? You can't expect me to blow my cover in front of Harrison now, can you? Sophie was the only smokescreen we had, or else, we wouldn't have been able to make our getaway so early."

Vivienne replied, "Mind your words. Anyway, I've got another task for you."

"You're not seriously expecting me to nab Harrison's latest research, are you?" Victoria's grip on her phone tightened as she sneakily glanced at Harrison.

The man was seated in the front, absorbed in something on his own device.

Noticing her gaze, he looked up, and the moment their eyes met, a surge of irritation flooded Victoria.

She glared at him before dropping her gaze back to her phone to continue typing: "That's a no-go. Harrison's as cunning as a fox. He's only off his game because you've been pushing him too hard. I'd rather have a hundred arguments with Gavin than deal with him."

Vivienne's text came through, tinged with an evident sense of amusement at Victoria's wariness towards Harrison.

But she wasn't actually expecting Victoria to undertake that mission: "You don't have to. Your task for the next few days is to protect Gavin."

Victoria stared at her phone in disbelief for a solid ten minutes, half-convinced she had somehow time-traveled.

I reading this

and looked again. No,

was Vivienne

still Vivienne? If someone

you

I mean is, we're allies, and you're technically my cousin-in-law. If you've been body-snatched, I, as a humanitarian, owe it to her to arrange a proper send-off." Vivienne:

seriously, are you or are you not

Vivienne: "...I'm not!"

Gavin? And with my limited skills, I

Victoria: "..."

That night.

few night-shift officers half-asleep, while most people had already called it a

in the precinct's holding

and turning in his cell, unable to find sleep amid

over a day, and despite assurances that Gavin would bail him out, there had been no word. His wife's pleas to Madeline had only been met with promises to "do her

drowned out by the snoring, sweat beading on his

shouts, fueled by desperation, eventually caught the attention of a neighboring inmate, irritated by the disturbance, "What's with all the

the bed and dragged himself to the bars, "Mate, please, I need help. It's

alarmed, banged on the wall, "Hey! You

wall, he couldn't see the distress in Kipling's cell but hearing the continuous groans, he knew something

he yelled, "Officers! We need help here! Someone's

"What's all the racket?!"

This isn't death