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The implications hung between them, a threat that extended beyond street-level enforcers to the very people meant to provide protection.

"So what happens now?" Ivy asked, her voice steady despite the circumstances.

Julia met her gaze directly. "Now we change the plan entirely. No department safe houses, no official channels. Just you and me, off the grid."

"You and me," Ivy repeated, the phrasecarrying layered meaning neither of them could fully address in that moment.

"Yes." Julia's tone was firm, her decision made. "Whatever happened between us before doesn't change the fact that my job is to keep you alive. And right now, I'm the only one you can trust to do that."

Ivy studied her for a long moment, something unreadable passing through her eyes. Finally, she nodded.

"Alright, Detective Scott," she said, her voice deliberately formal. "Lead the way."

The distance in her tone was necessary, Julia told herself. Professional. Appropriate. It was exactly what the situation demanded.

So why did it feel like another barrier to navigate, another complication in an assignment already filled with them?

Julia pushed the thought aside. Keeping Ivy Monroe alive was her only priority now—regardless of their shared history, regardless of the confusion that stirred in her chest whenever those intelligent green eyes met hers.

She had a job to do. Everything else was irrelevant.

It had to be.

3

IVY

Ivy stepped out of the elevator into the precinct's underground parking level, and Chief Diana Marten awaited them beside a nondescript sedan, her tall figure projecting authority despite her casual attire.

"Dr. Monroe, Chief Marten,” Marten said with a curt nod. "I wish we were meeting under better circumstances."

"So do I," Ivy replied, squaring her shoulders. After a lifetime of controlling every variable, she hated feeling like a chess piece being moved across the board.

"Detective Rivers gave me the details," Marten continued. "The pursuit confirms what we've suspected; we have a leak."

"Which means all department resources are compromised," Julia added, still positioned slightly in front of Ivy, body angled to monitor both the chief and their surroundings.

Marten's expression hardened. "I've arranged for a decoy transport to leave in thirty minutes. Standard protocol, full team, headed to a safe house in Sequoia District. Should buy you some time to disappear properly."

"And my equipment?" Ivy asked. "My files? I can't just leave everything behind."

"Morgan will retrieve essentials from your storage unit," Julia said. "You mentioned it during the drive."

Ivy bit back a retort. Yes, she'd shared that information during their frantic escape—her secure storage location, registered under a shell company. Another layer of protection now stripped away.

"Chief," Ivy said, turning to Marten directly, "I understand the security concerns, but I need to maintain some control over this situation."

"Dr. Monroe," Marten interrupted, her tone authoritative but not unkind, "control isa luxury you don't have right now. Vincent Knox has resources, connections, and a personal vendetta against anyone threatening his organization."

"Three weeks isolated with Detective Scott isn't 'discomfort,'" Ivy snapped before she could stop herself. "It's—" She caught herself, aware of how her objection might sound.

The chief's eyebrow rose fractionally. "Is there a specific reason you object to Detective Scott's protection? She's the best we have."

Ivy felt heat rise to her cheeks as Julia remained frustratingly silent beside her. "No specific reason. I simply prefer to handle things independently."

"Which is exactly what Knox is counting on," Julia finally spoke, her voice measured. "Isolated targets are easier to eliminate."

The blunt assessment sent a chill through Ivy's core. She wasn't naive; she knew exactly what Knox was capable of. That's what made her testimony so dangerous.