The statement at the police station didn’t take long.
Cooper was caught red-handed. They took him straight into custody, no questions asked, just waiting for his court date.
As for Claudia and the mercenaries, the officers kept it vague, and Emmy didn’t bother prying.
By the time it was all over, it was way past midnight.
Walking out of the station, Emmy immediately spotted the Bentley parked by the curb.
And there was James, leaning against the car door.
He was in his usual black jacket and joggers, hands in his pockets, tall and steady like always. Emmy knew this look by heart, but for a split second, she saw him layered over with the memory of that cold, sharp figure in tactical gear, rifle slung over his shoulder. The images tangled and separated, leaving her a little out of it.
James noticed her standing there and walked over, his stride easy and confident. He reached for her hand, warm and sure, and led her to the car, holding the door open like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You must be hungry,” he said quietly. “I’ll make you some noodles when we get home.”
Emmy watched as he rounded the car and got in on the driver’s side, starting the engine.
The soft yellow glow from the dash fell across his sharp profile.
She looked over at him and whispered, “Okay.”
The Bentley slipped into the quiet night traffic, headlights gliding past the endless sweep of city lights. Everything outside the window blurred—neon signs stretched and smeared, racing behind them like all the messy thoughts in her head.
James drove with one hand on the wheel, the other reaching over to cover Emmy’s hand where it rested on her lap. His palm was big and warm, his thumb moving absentmindedly across her skin, sending little sparks up her arm.
Emmy didn’t say a word. She just leaned back, letting him hold her, watching the city lights melt away into the night.
By the time she finally got to eat a bowl of hot noodles, it was already past one.

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