The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

Whitford's face twisted in agony as he crumbled to the floor of the cramped cell, his cries reverberating against the cold, grey walls.

Vivienne and Percival barely had tto register what had happened when the guards rushed in. They surveyed the bent iron bars with confusion etched on their faces. "Odd, the energy scan showed he wasn't this powerful. How'd he manage to warp reinforced steel like that?" Vivienne's ears perked up. "Energy scan?" You've got to be kidding me! How do you even measure such an intangible thing? But the guards were dead serious. "The device was sent specifically from the top brass. Developed by stech whiz, I don't get the science behind it, but the tech guy assured us Whitford wasn't a threat." Yet Whitford had just bent the bars. That meant either the device was a fake, or the technician in charge was a mole from the ancient warrior lineage, planted to monitor any prisoners of their kind! The couple realized this at the smoment.

Without hesitation, Vivienne pushed past the guards and strode into the cell. She fished out a pill from her pocket, pried Whitford's mouth open, and shoved it down his throat. Her movements were so smooth that Whitford had swallowed the pill before the guards could react.

One of them grabbed Vivienne's wrist. "What did you give him?!" "Xiomara!" "Vivienne!" Percival stepped in, separating Vivienne from the guard named Xiomara. "We're from the NH Bureau, and during an investigation, we're authorized to use any means necessary on suspects. Let go of her!" "Xiomara, Percival's right," another imposing guard tugged at his colleague's sleeve. "Ease up!" Xiomara's eyes flickered with reluctant suspicion as they landed on Vivienne. It wasn't until the male guard showed his impatience that she finally let go, "But you can't just shove anything down a prisoner's throat, don't they have rights?" "You talking about human rights with a member of an international crsyndicate?" Vivienne didn't know whether to laugh at her naivety or marvel at her simplicity. "Sweetheart, how old are you? Didn't your teacher tell you the scum in here have done things so vile that dying a hundred times over would be too kind?" "I..." Xiomara, only twenty and seemingly older than Vivienne, flushed in embarrassment and anger at being lectured by someone younger.

Before she could argue, Vivienne cut her off again. "Whitford, what you've got churning in your gut is the spoison I fed your brother. I don't care what other plans your ancient warrior lineage has, but if you're not at the hearing the day after tomorrow, you and your brother will be joining your ancestors!" "Who the hell are you?!" Whitford glared, his voice trembling as much as his body.

The pain in his abdomen was relentless, amplified by whatever Vivienne had slipped into the pill. It kept him in a state of excruciating clarity. Vivienne looked down at him, her gaze cold and menacing. "I'm your worst nightmare." The room fell silent.

The guards thought she was one tough cookie.

Xiomara questioned who this fierce woman was and why she was so intimidating.

Percival knew that Vivienne was always one for tics.

Even Whitford was shocked by her audacity, not expecting such a delicate-looking woman to speak with such venom. It took another wave of crippling pain to snap him out of his daze.

His face turned from pale to purple to black as he gasped, "You... you're Vivienne?!" Recognition hit him as he pieced together her identity, and despite the torment, he conceded. "Fine... I'll testify for you... but... you have to let my brother andlive!" On the ride back, Vivienne mulled over their next move, and before she could ask, Percival knew what was on her mind. "Want to look into that so- called technician?" Her eyes sparkled with gratitude as she nodded. "Mr. Wolf, think it's doable?" Percival kept his eyes on the road ahead. "There's no question of doability. If you want to do it, you do it. I'm with you all the way. The ancient warrior lineage's roots run deep. Wouldn't be surprised if they've planted a tech mole in the system." He thought back to Vance's words. "Maybe Vance could help. As the head of Public Relations and a former member of their ranks, he might have sinsight into the Grimshaw family's influence." Vivienne, her chin resting on her hand, suddenly remembered the old manuscript. "Once this is over, we need to visit my grandfather again." "That ancient text is bound to be useful." They outlined their plan, but first, they had to deal with the pressing matter of Kaitlyn and the Grimshaw family, who were causing trouble even after obtaining the secret formula.

Zinnia was a sensation on social media, hopping from one platform to the next with the agility of a seasoned influencer. One day, she'd post a charming video of her daughter, and the next, she'd craft a heartfelt blog entry that had her followers hooked, their appetite for gossip insatiable. Her popularity soared, never seeming to wane.

Countless opportunistic marketers jumped into the fray, hoping to cash in on the frenzy.

Yet, for all their efforts, they couldn't pin down Kaitlyn's whereabouts. And it wasn't just Kaitlyn who remained elusive; even Vivienne, the epicenter of the intrigue, was nowhere to be found.

Kala Brooks, who was openly connected to Vivienne and more accessible to the press, becthe prtarget for the media hounds. But trailing her was futile. Everyone knew that Vivienne was swamped, and no one wanted to add to the chaos at such a critical time.

When Vivienne finally got a break from the preparatory work and checked her phone, she saw that Zinnia and Julian's names were still trending, their presence on the hot search list undiminished. She scrolled through the barrage of insults and slander that flooded the screen. With a spark of mischief lighting up her beautiful features, she pointed to the vitriolic comments and said, "The Abernathy clan must be really investing sserious dough into this smear campaign. Look at all these bots and trolls. I wonder how deep their grudge against Julian runs." Kaitlyn's eyes dimmed, a shadow of resentment flickering through them.

"They've already stolen the secret recipe! Why can't they just back off?!" she exclaimed indignantly.

* Privacy