The Million-Dollar Heart

Astrid eyed the laboratory entrance before her, the very threshold of a top-secret national research facility she had once infiltrated with Vivienne. A sly grin tugged at the corner of her mouth as she pressed the button on the remote.

A gust of wind swept by, yet nothing ensued.

Disbelief etched across Astrid's features as she jabbed the button several more times, her expression darkening with each futile attempt.

Suddenly, she whipped out a gun, spinning around with a swift motion.

Vivienne, along with Percival and Leopold who was bemused, emerged from behind her.

Astrid showed no signs of panic; instead, a calm detachment washed over her.

"Figures, you're not one to fall for tricks so easily," Astrid declared, wielding the gun in one hand while discarding the useless remote with the other.

A flicker of regret crossed her gaze as she looked at Vivienne, "Had you joined us, our victory would've been assured by now."

Vivienne's eyes sparkled with amusement, her smile broad and radiant. "Your disguise is pathetic, Mr. B."

Mr. B, now unmasked as the impostor, gave a nonchalant shrug, making no move to remove his mask, "When did you catch on?"

Vivienne pondered for a moment, "Around the time I stumbled upon Scott, perhaps?"

Vivienne then let out a derisive chuckle, "You were too naive."

Mr. B's eyebrows rose inquisitively, "Impossible. You'd never interacted with me when you blew Scott's cover!"

A laugh escaped Vivienne, "Once wasn't enough?"

Mr. B's pupils constricted, still puzzled.

Before impersonating Astrid to get close to Vivienne, Mr. B had thoroughly researched his target. With the help of Alfred, the bumbling fool, Mr. B knew every minute detail of Astrid's life - from her catchphrases to her subtlest expressions and mannerisms.

Cordelia, her own mother, hadn't

Vivienne, whom he had met only once, possibly see through

Mr. B's expression, Vivienne knew

touch of exasperation,

head, showing empathy,

note of seriousness, "Can we stay on task, please? This is a mission, not a

B clenched his jaw, "That's quite enough,

knitted together as she swiftly launched a silver needle from

and with a thud, he knelt

with a cold edge, adding

was Vivienne, Percival, or even Leopold,

open space, a well-trained individual could easily dodge a bullet. And even if hit by chance, Mr.

useless, escape was out of the question. He needed to wait for the right

noticing her hesitation, wore a subtle smirk, "Mr. B, you didn't

B paused, suddenly realizing his

and understood that he had been drugged and was powerless to

phone buzzed with a message from Thomas: [Subject is

his phone,

B, handcuffing him with the restraints he had learned to carry at all times since capturing Scott. "Mr. B," Leopold taunted, " My Vivienne has a knack for phrenology. No matter how you change your appearance, you can't fool her eyes. Did you really think you were flawless?" Mr.

It all made sense.

prided himself on his flawless disguise,

of

shown that Vivienne did not practice phrenology, nor had she ever offered such services. So how did she discern Mr. B's

B looked up at Vivienne, forcing a smile, "You've played along with my charade for quite some time. It

you are, you can't imitate the warmth in Astrid's eyes. The face

master's. Finnian often remarked

of twenty-five, she was forbidden from reading fortunes, lest she risk her

heeded her master's warning and refrained

read fortunes, Vivienne possessed the ability to read bone structure, a skill unrelated to mystic arts and solely based on physical