The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

In the bowels of an unnamed city, a clandestine lab was the scene of yet another failure for Calista. Her

frustration at yet another botched experiment reached a tipping point, and she sent glassware and

papers flying off her desk in a fit of rage.

Why was she unable to develop the “Boar Poison”? And why, oh why, could she not surpass Vivienne’s

accomplishments in medicine? She was just as competent, if not more so. Yet, this “Boar Poison”

formula continued to elude her grasp.

The door to the lab burst open, and Calista jolted upright, stumbling backward in a panic. “Mr. B… I’m

working on it. I’ll have it soon. I promise no more troubles, oh!”

However, before she could finish, a pair of iron-strong hands grabbed her by the hair, slamming her

head against the sharp edge of the lab table. Blood gushed from a gash on her forehead, painting her

vision in a haze of red.

Mr. B’s face twisted with fury as she continued to shake Calista by the head, bashing her against the

wall and the table, unleashing his anger.

Calista felt the grim reaper’s presence, certain her last breath was imminent.

Finally, Mr. B ceased her onslaught, flinging Calista to the floor with a force that was calculated—cruel

enough to torment but careful enough to keep her alive.

Blinking through the blood, Calista made out the scar that marked Mr. B’s face, a constant reminder of

her cruelty.

Trembling, Calista knelt, pleading. “Mr. B, please give me another chance.”

Mr. B, with a nonchalant gesture, unscrewed a water bottle and poured its contents over Calista’s head,

leaving just enough to quench his thirst.

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Calista’s hair dripped, and a chill crept over her limbs.

Mr. B exhaled deeply, troubled by recent events. A bounty hunter had been snooping around,

constraining her operations. Thankfully, her location remained a secret, or the hunter would have

already been on her tail.

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Turning back to Calista, she said, “Do you realize the lengths we went to to pull you out? Twice I’ve

risked exposure for you, and you’ve been nothing but useless!”

Calista shuddered with fear. “I’m close to a breakthrough, I swear. The ‘Boar Poison’ will be ready

soon.”

Disgusted, Mr. B looked away.

Her last meeting with White Tiger, the elusive leader of CK, had been a farce. Not only had she failed

to secure the “Boar Poison,” but she had also narrowly avoided capture thanks to her carefulness of

not showing up with her real face.

Placing all her hope on Calista and that man was the only thing she could do now.

Her phone rang, and her demeanor shifted as she walked to a quieter place and answered the call.

“Hello.”

On the other side, a passive and chilling voice came.

“Useless.” Mr. B glared at Calista again as she said this.

Calista quickly lowered her head, afraid Mr. B might give her another beating out of rage.

“As expected.” The person on the other side of the phone seemed to be doing a stretch. “I got a

message from CK.”

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Mr. B was stunned momentarily before asking, “What was it?”

“They said they’d prefer us to bail Fiona out because she’s still of use to them. In exchange, they’ll give

us the Boar Poison.”

“The Boar Poison in exchange for Fiona? I didn’t expect Fiona to be this important to them. Did you

agree?” Mr. B smiled and asked.

“Yeah. It’s no difficult task to release Fiona, given she never committed that big of a crime. The Boar

Poison is more important than that. Things will be much easier for you with it.”

“Okay. Understood.”

Mr. B hung up and smiled, turning to look at Calista.

She slowly squatted down, raised Calista’s chin, and said, “Recover well. I have something important

for you to do in a few days.”

Calista nodded as quickly as she could. “Okay, I got it.”

…

Meanwhile, in the Ellington estate, Heloise was desperately trying to pull strings to free her husband.

With her daughter gone and Jeffrey as the sole heir, the family’s status was in jeopardy. Then came a

call.

“Are you Fiona’s family? She’s sick and is eligible for medical parole.”

Apparently, Fiona had a heart attack in the cell and would have died if not for the warden’s timely

discovery. Afterward, she was sent to the hospital and was diagnosed with severe Organic

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cardiovascular disease, more commonly known as acute heart disease, something that could take her

life easily if not treated with caution. Basically, she was unfit to be imprisoned.

Vivienne and Percival, upon hearing the news, shared a knowing smile. Fiona’s sudden and convenient

illness was laughably transparent.

“How are you two still laughing?” Leopold’s face flushed with rage. “That’s another one escaped. I’ve

known Fiona for so many years and have never heard of her having any heart issues at all, and now

she’s suddenly on the verge of death? This is absurd!”

Vivienne simply smiled and did not speak.

She had personally checked on Fiona’s health before she was imprisoned and knew very well that

Fiona was more than healthy.

Percival sat on the sofa with Vivienne’s leftover fruit juice, looking at the signature on Fiona’s medical

parole application form.

It was his direct boss, Micah.

Micah was once a legend in the field. It was said that he once charged into the enemy base alone and

captured their boss without any form of mechanical gear. Once he handed the enemy boss to the

organization, he fainted from severe injuries. By the time he woke up, one of his legs had become

cripple from the poison. From then, he retired from the field. Considering his history with Lark,

Vivienne’s late mother, it was a curious move for him to have signed the application. Although they

were not partners when Lark was around, their work was closelyBooks Chapters Are Daily Updated

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related. Micah was in charge of providing overall support and commands for Lark’s last failed mission.

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After the mission went south, Lark vanished into thin air. At the same time, Micah climbed the ranks

with a mix of raw talent and an uncanny knack for handling emergencies, eventually becoming the big

cheese at the organization.

When Percival and the likes of Leopold joined the ranks of Vanguard Agency, Micah was their drill

sergeant.

And he had their respect.

But now—Percival’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flickering at the corners.

“Come on, Percival, cut the cryptic CEO act, will ya? Please, just ask around. What in the world is

going on?” Leopold was pacing like a caged animal, unable to contain his anxiety.

Fiona was not your garden-variety crook.

She was the right hand of CK, the infamous Black Dragon that cast a shadow of dread across the

underworld.

Letting her walk could unleash chaos untold.

Besides, the special squad at Vanguard Agency had been racking up wins only to see them turn into

epic fails.

Where did that leave their squad’s reputation?

Mr. B had bolted, Calista had vanished while in transit, and Fiona was being sprung on some medical

technicality.

Might as well throw in the towel.

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A team like the special squad could not afford these kinds of slip-ups without morale taking a nosedive.

How would they ever rally the troops again?

Especially when it seemed like they were just letting everyone go in the end.

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