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"Defensive restructuring," Julia concluded, moving to check the apartment's security system once more. "Exactly as you predicted."

The validation shouldn't have mattered, but it did. Julia Scott was not a woman who offered easy approval or casual acknowledgment. Each recognition of Ivy's expertise felt earned in a way professional accolades never had.

"Second phase preparation begins tomorrow," Ivy said, closing the laptop as fatigue finally caught up with her. The adrenaline of Operation Bait's launch was fading, leaving bone-deep exhaustion in its wake.

Julia noticed immediately. "You should rest. We have twelve hours before phase two planning. I'll take first security watch."

Ivy should have argued and insisted on helping monitor. Instead, she found herself nodding, suddenly unable to sustain the energy required for their careful dance of proximity and distance.

"Wake me if anything changes," she said,gathering her notes. "Or if Knox's people show unusual movement patterns."

"I will." Julia remained by the window, silhouetted against the city lights beyond. Her posture conveyed readiness rather than relaxation, the vigilant protector never fully at rest.

Ivy paused at the bedroom doorway. "Thank you, Julia."

She turned. "For what?"

"For trusting my strategy. For seeing me as more than just a witness to protect."

Something flickered across Julia's features—a brief crack in the professional facade that revealed more complex emotions beneath. "Your expertise is…impressive."

Coming from Julia Scott, the admission was significant. Ivy nodded once, accepting the professional acknowledgment while recognizing its personal undercurrent.

"Goodnight, Detective."

"Goodnight, Dr. Monroe."

The professional titles maintained their careful boundaries, but the tone carried something warmer than the morning's cold formality. Ivy closed the bedroom door behind her, too exhaustedto analyze the subtle shift in their dynamic.

As she prepared for sleep, her phone chimed with a final notification. The Phoenix Ridge Business Journal had published a feature article: "Eastern District Property Acquisitions Raise Infrastructure Security Concerns." Below it, a secondary headline noted: "Knox Enterprises Stock Falls 8% in After-Hours Trading."

Operation Bait had drawn its first blood. Knox's carefully constructed empire had begun to feel the tremors of exposure. By morning, those tremors would become significant shocks as regulatory investigations launched and investors began distancing themselves from potentially compromised businesses.

Ivy set the phone aside, stretching across Julia's bed that still carried faint traces of their shared night. Beyond the bedroom door, she heard Julia's quiet movements—the soft click of her weapon being checked, the gentle tap of her laptop keys as she monitored security channels, the subtle creak of floorboards beneath her vigilant patrol.

Julia Scott remained a contradiction—professional distance wrapped around personal awareness, tactical precision concealing emotional depth. The woman who had held Ivy through the night and then retreated behind protocol in the morning was now something different, a strategic partner who respected her expertise without fully acknowledging their connection.

It wasn't what Ivy wanted, not completely. But it was progress. Professional respect creating a foundation where emotional barriers had failed.

Tomorrow would bring the next phase of their offensive against Knox. The predator who had hunted her was about to discover that financial forensics could be weaponized more effectively than physical intimidation. And Julia—controlled, disciplined, protocol-driven Julia—had become her unexpected ally in reshaping the battlefield.

As sleep claimed her, one thought remained: patterns revealed character, in financial systems and in people. And both Vincent Knox and Julia Scott were proving remarkably consistent in their responses to pressure.

She just had to keep applying the right kind of pressure to each.

10

JULIA

"It's working," Julia whispered as she leaned closer to the laptop screen, watching red indicators flash across the monitoring dashboard.

Three of Knox's shell companies were liquidating assets simultaneously—exactly as Ivy had predicted. Julia's tactical mind registered each data point, calculating implications.

"Three shell companies liquidating assets," Ivy confirmed, looking up from her fortress of financial diagrams with a genuine smile breaking across her face. "Knox's lieutenants are scrambling."

Julia moved closer, studying the financialchaos unfolding on the screen. "Marcus Wells is dumping property holdings in the eastern district. Thirty percent below market value."

"Exactly as predicted," Ivy replied, satisfaction warming her voice. "The infrastructure strategy is unraveling. Wells knows those properties are about to face regulatory scrutiny, but he doesn't understand how we've connected them to Knox's operation."