Aria pov
"Non-negotiable," he said, echoing my words. "You want partnership? This is a partnership. You don't get to protect me by keeping me away."
I studied his face—the determination, the fear, the absolute refusal to back down. "Okay," I said softly. "Together."
"Together," he agreed.
The rest of the day was a blur of preparation. The training room smelled like gun oil and sweat. The bulletproof vest pressed heavy against my ribs. FBI tactical briefings, weapons training (I refused a gun but accepted pepper spray and a panic button), memorizing the warehouse layout, running through scenarios.
By the time evening fell, I was exhausted and wired simultaneously.
"You should eat," Olivia said, appearing with takeout around 6 PM. "Can't rescue your terrible sister on an empty stomach."
"How did you"
