The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

Griffin shifted closer to Vivienne with a hushed urgency. "Vivienne, you don't seriously think my dad's in cahoots with someone out

to harm your protege, do you? That's insane! | swear on the grave of Leopold Sterling, my father is not that man. You just helped

our family out not too long ago. He'd never be so ungrateful."

Stellan caught on to the gravity of the situation and quickly interjected, "I'm in the dark about this, truly. But rest assured, I'll get to

the bottom of it once I'm back. Please believe me. If | chose to collaborate with you, | would never stab you in the back!"

His words hung in the air, sounding pale and unconvincing.

Stellan pursed his lips and pointed to the serial number etched on the glass tube: "The Martinez family's recent research batches

all start with 19. But this one, it indeed starts with 18. | think someone took advantage of a lapse in security and stole sof our

failed experiments."

Griffin had unwavering faith in his father's integrity. He appeared visibly distressed at the suggestion of mistrust. Clinging to

Vivienne, she incessantly assured her of his father's innocence.

Vivienne and Percival exchanged a glance, their expressions unreadable.

The couple sat with stone-cold faces, impossible to read, simply exchanging looks and then slowly shaking their heads.

Seeing this, Stellan felt his heart skip a beat!

A chilling sense of dread crawled up from his feet and spread throughout his body.

If Percival wasn't satisfied with his explanation and took this as evidence against them, the Martinez family would be ruined!

"Mr. Perc..." Stellan straightened up, ready to defend his case further.

Percival raised his hand, signaling for silence, and said, "Mr. Martinez, Vivienne and | would very much like to trust you. However,

we need answers for this incident."

Vivienne spoke up with a stern tone, "A biochemical weapon leak is no trivial matter. If someone managed to steal from the

Martinez family's tightly secured lab, it must be someone you trust. Since you've been researching biochemical weapons, you've

created quite a few prototypes that couldn't be mass-produced. If these got out and hit the market, it wouldn't just be a matter of

trust anymore."

Stellan understood the gravity of Vivienne's implication.

His expression turned grave as he looked at the contents of the case and declared, "Ms. Hawthorn, rest assured, | will get to the

bottom of this. The Martinez family will not tolerate a traitor!"

Having made such a firm promise, Vivienne and Percival had little more to say.

Stepping out of the café, Stellan headed for the Martinez family's laboratory tucked away in the Rivenwood suburb.

Griffin was reluctant to venture there and after a brief discussion with Vivienne, it was decided that Percival would escort her

home.

In the car.

Vivienne sat in the passenger seat, glancing through the rear-view mirror at Griffin in the back, who was grinning ear to ear while

texting on his phone.

She suddenly nudged Percival's elbow. "Mr. Wolf, weren't you a bit too eager back there? Since when did Donald becyour

protege?"

At first, Percival wondered what she meant.

Upon realizing this, he let out a slight smile, his eyes feigning innocence. "Well, we're married now, so your mentor is mine by

extension. Your protege is naturally my protege, too. Is there an issue with that, Vivienne?"

"There's no issue," Vivienne chuckled. "Keep gloating. Wait until my seniors find tto cover. Remember the debacle at

Havenwood with your real estate?"

Percival stiffened at the memory.

Those properties, still reeking of sprank, gave him a headache.

"How did Finnian manage to mentor such a bunch of eccentrics?" he thought, perplexed.

A few dark lines creased his forehead. "Vivienne, believe me, if they dare to show up this time, they're the ones who'll be hurt."

"You have a plan?" Vivienne asked, curious.

Percival's smile held a hint of mystery. "You'll see when the tcomes."

As they chatted, no one noticed Griffin in the back seat, hastily lowering his head and swiftly typing a message.

A text popped up on Leopold's phone, who was in the thick of a virtual battle with video editing and online commentators at the

Vanguard Agency. It read, [Percival says he's got plans for you guys.]

Leopold shuddered. "No way."

Thomas, startled by Leopold's reaction, slipped with the mouse, turning what was supposed to be a heavy weapon into a

cartoonish elephant.

Thomas licked his molars in annoyance and grabbed Leopold by the collar. "Tell me, Mr. Sterling, have you been too idle lately?"

"Not at all. Leavealone."

Shaking off Thomas's hand, Leopold typed furiously, [I haven't even provoked Percival recently. Why's he out to get me?]

Muttering to himself, he sent the smessage to Griffin.

Griffin replied, [Vivienne said they'd be coming over to prank Percival's place. So he's planning to deal with you guys.]

Unsure who exactly Vivienne referred to, Griffin lumped them all together as her proteges and surreptitiously snitched to Leopold,

[Don't tell anyone | told you. Consider it a thank-you for takingto see Vivienne last time.]

Leopold's mouth twitched. [Sthank-you, that is. What kind of gift is that?!]

Though his words seemed unimpressed, he was already pacing around the office anxiously.

His words cout in a frantic whisper, "We're toast, we're totally toast. Percival's definitely one step ahead this time. | told those

clowns not to push it too far last time. Now look what they've done—they've draggedinto this mess, too."

Leopold's face was a picture of misery, "What are we gonna do? Should we just spill it to those jerks and work it out together?"

Thomas, having had enough, tossed his mouse aside.

The cursor on the computer screen slid around once more, distorting the image beyond recognition.

He barely gave it a glance before brushing it off.

Let it all fall apart. Whoever wants to deal with it can because he's done!

"Just a heads up, buddy. Percival might have a hard tmessing with them, but taking you down? That's a piece of cake."

Leopold's already troubled expression collapsed completely at Thomas's morbid reminder.

He looked like he was two seconds away from scrawling "Save me" across his forehead. His hand hovered over his phone,

uncertain whether to move or stay still.

After what seemed like an eternity of hesitation, he finally gave up.

He slumped back into his chair and glanced at Thomas, who had already started a new game, and kicked his chair, "What the heck,

man? You're giving up on the project? If we botch this, you know the boss is gonna have our heads on a platter."

Just the thought of it made him seethe.

Vance's life was miserable, and he made sure their lives were, too. Endless meetings after work, nitpicking every video and image

they turned in.

Because of this, Leopold had becthe butt of the joke more times than he could count.

Thomas kept his eyes glued to his phone screen, not even bothering to look up, "I'm not scared. I'm planning to quit."

"Quit?"

Leopold's eyes bulged, "Are you serious? Why didn't you say so sooner? We could have bailed on this dump ages ago, and |

wouldn't be Vance's personal punching bag."

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