Chapter 15
VICTORIA
The living room was quiet except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan and the rhythmic sound of Isabel’s breathing. The lamp’s glow washed the space in gold, catching on the empty wineglass and the crumpled throw blanket tangled at their feet.
Victoria lay draped across Isabel, her cheek resting against the rise and fall of her chest. For the first time in days, her body felt loose, disarmored. The air smelled faintly of soap and skin and something like peace.
Isabel’s fingers trailed lazy circles along her shoulder. “You’re thinking too loud again,” she murmured.
Victoria smiled faintly. “Occupational hazard.”
“Try turning it off.”
“I would,” Victoria said, “if there weren’t a mole in my department and a kidnapped teenager still missing.”
That earned a quiet sigh. “Right. Forgot about all that for a second.”
Victoria lifted her head, meeting Isabel’s tired but steady gaze. “We can’t afford to forget.”
“I know,” Isabel said, sitting up slightly, pulling the blanket around them both. “But we’ve got what we need now. The footage, the logbook photos—Darcy’s signature. The files are backed up to the cloud. Even if something happens to my phone, it’s all safe.”
Victoria nodded, her mind already spinning. “Good. Then we use it.”
“Use it how?”
“We’re not just clearing your name,” Victoria said, her tone sharpening with purpose. “We’re taking down the syndicate and exposing Darcy for what she is. And if we’re smart about it, we can do both at once.”
Isabel leaned forward, the flicker of adrenaline lighting her eyes. “You’re talking about a sting.”
Victoria gave a single nod. “Darcy’s been feeding intel to the syndicate. She has access to our case files and knows our movements. If we leak the right information through her, we can control what she sends back.”
“Set a trap,” Isabel said slowly, piecing it together. “Make them think they’ve got another drop location for Lily.”
“Exactly.”
Isabel frowned. “That’s dangerous, Vic. If they realize they’re being baited—”
“They’ll retaliate,” Victoria finished for her. “I know.” She hesitated, her hand brushing Isabel’s knee, grounding her. “But they’ll come expecting us to play by the rules. We won’t.”
Isabel’s lips quirked into a humorless smile. “You already have a plan, don’t you?”
Victoria tilted her head, half a smirk touching her mouth. “A rough one.”
“Let me hear it.”
“We’ll set the bait—an encrypted message about a ransom exchange on the north docks.
You and I will stake it out alone—no team, no backup.
The commissioner will be on standby, but she won’t move until we give the word.
When Darcy tips off her contact, we’ll trace the communication back to her device in real-time. ”
“And when the syndicate shows up for the drop…” Isabel began.
“We’ll be waiting,” Victoria finished, her voice quiet but certain. “We’ll take them down, rescue Lily, and when it’s over, we’ll put Darcy in cuffs.”
For a moment, the room was silent again, heavy with the weight of what they were about to risk.
Isabel reached out and covered Victoria’s hand with her own. “This could get us both killed.”
“It could,” Victoria said simply.
“But it could also end this,” Isabel murmured.
Victoria nodded once. “Exactly.”
The look they shared was all resolve—no hesitation, no doubt. Just two women who had finally found their footing again, ready to face whatever came next.
Isabel exhaled, sinking back into the couch with a crooked smile. “All right, Captain. Let’s burn their whole damned operation to the ground.”
Victoria’s lips curved faintly. “That’s the plan, Detective.”
And for the first time in what felt like forever, they were on the same side of everything—professionally, emotionally, completely.
The morning light spilled across the living room, soft and gray through the half-open blinds. The smell of coffee lingered in the air, mingling with the faint salt of the ocean drifting in from the window Victoria had cracked open an hour ago.
Isabel sat curled on the couch, one of Victoria’s oversized shirts hanging loosely on her frame, sleeves rolled to her elbows. Her phone was on the coffee table, a single unread notification blinking in the corner of the screen.
Victoria emerged from the kitchen with two mugs, setting one in front of her. “You didn’t sleep.”
“Neither did you,” Isabel said.
They shared a tired, knowing glance—half a smile, half a surrender.
Victoria sat beside her, legs brushing lightly. The warmth between them was easy now, comfortable, but underneath it ran the edge of purpose.
“We need to talk about today,” Victoria said.
Isabel arched a brow. “Yeah, I figured. You want to tell the commissioner before we go after Darcy?”
“Not yet. If we show our hand too early, Darcy will bolt. She’s too smart to stay once she realizes she’s burned.”
“So, we play it cool,” Isabel said, leaning back, crossing her arms. “Go in as if nothing’s changed.”
“Exactly,” Victoria said. “We need to make it look like we’re still at odds. That way, Darcy won’t suspect we’ve compared notes.”
A dry laugh escaped Isabel. “So basically, we go back to pretending to hate each other. Shouldn’t be too hard. We’ve had enough practice.”
Victoria’s lips twitched, just barely. “You were insubordinate.”
“You were impossible,” Isabel countered, the teasing note in her voice softening the jab.
For the first time in days, Victoria let out a quiet chuckle. “We stagger our arrivals. I’ll come in first, make a show of being irritated. You go in later, avoiding my office. If anyone asks, we had another fight.”
“Want me to throw something for effect?” Isabel asked.
“Preferably not.”
“Shame,” Isabel muttered, grinning faintly into her coffee.
Victoria shook her head, but there was warmth in the gesture. Then her tone turned serious again. “Keep your distance from Darcy as much as possible. If she approaches you, stay calm. Don’t let her see you rattled.”
Isabel nodded. “Got it. And you?”
“I’ll keep her occupied,” Victoria said. “She’s still trying to earn back my confidence. I can use that.”
“Careful, Vic,” Isabel said softly. “You may be the only person she’s still trying to fool.”
Victoria looked down at her mug, the steam curling up between them. “Then let’s make sure she never gets another chance.”
For a moment, silence filled the space again—comfortable but weighted. Isabel reached out and brushed her fingers against Victoria’s hand. “We’ll get her,” she said. “We’ll get Lily back, too.”
Victoria’s gaze met hers, steady and sure. “I know.”
They sat that way for a long moment, the early light painting the room in pale gold. Two women who had nearly lost each other, now bound by purpose, trust, and the quiet promise that whatever came next, they would face it together.
Finally, Isabel stood, finishing her coffee. “I guess I’ll take the long way to work. Let people think I’m avoiding you.”
Victoria smirked faintly. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”
“Maybe a little,” Isabel admitted. She reached for her jacket, hesitating at the door. “See you at the precinct, Captain.”
Victoria’s voice softened. “Be careful, Detective.”
Isabel gave a small nod and slipped out into the morning light, her footsteps fading down the hall.
Victoria lingered a moment longer, staring at the empty doorway. Then she straightened, squared her shoulders, and set her mug in the sink.
Time to play her part.
By the time Victoria walked into the precinct, the rhythm of the day had already begun—phones ringing, keyboards clattering, the steady hum of organized chaos that she usually found grounding. Today, though, every sound grated.
She could feel eyes on her as she crossed the bullpen. It was subtle, but it was there—the sideways glances, the slight pause in conversation. Word had gotten around that she and Torres had argued again. Perfect. Exactly as they wanted.
Victoria kept her expression cool, unreadable, her stride clipped and efficient. She barked a quick order to a patrol sergeant about the task force briefing and barely slowed down as she passed Darcy near the evidence board.
“Morning, Captain,” Darcy greeted, bright and casual as ever.
“Lieutenant,” Victoria said curtly without looking up.
She felt Darcy’s smirk follow her as she disappeared into her office. The door clicked shut behind her, sealing out most of the noise.
Victoria exhaled slowly and leaned against the desk for a moment, letting the mask slip just long enough to breathe. Then she straightened and got to work.
She powered on her computer and slid her secure phone from her bag, typing out a coded message to the commissioner.
The subject line was innocuous enough—Follow-up on the Harper case—but the body contained the start of their plan.
Coordinates for the north docks, set for the following night.
Phrased as a “potential lead” they wanted kept confidential.
Once sent, she wiped the temporary log. No trace.
Next, she opened the case database and adjusted the access permissions for a handful of files—the ones she knew Darcy had been monitoring.
She created a new entry labeled Potential Exchange Site and uploaded a decoy report written in precise, believable language.
If Darcy checked it, the breadcrumbs would lead straight to the sting location.
Victoria’s pulse stayed even as she worked, but her mind was razor focused. Every keystroke, every decision had to be perfect. One misstep and Darcy would know the trap was set.
A soft knock came at the door.
Victoria’s spine straightened instantly. “Come in.”
Darcy stepped inside, a coffee cup in each hand. “Thought you might want one,” she said easily, setting it down on the corner of the desk. “You look like you could use it.”
“Thank you,” Victoria said evenly, though she didn’t touch the cup.
Darcy smiled, that same professional charm that now looked like poison. “Any updates on Torres?”