Chapter 214

“The police station? What happened? Why are you–” Jamison’s voice was tight with concern, ready to ask her what on earth had happened to send her to the police, but before he could press further, Ivy was called over by an officer and hung up, barely a word of goodbye.

“Miss Windsor, as part of our investigation, we’ll need you to undergo a psychological evaluation. Do you consent?”

Emma had been insistent, claiming Ivy was mentally unstable and her statements couldn’t be trusted as evidence. To ensure the validity of Ivy’s testimony, the police required a psych assessment.

Ivy let out a cold, resigned laugh. She’d known Emma wouldn’t give in so easily. Without much hesitation, she nodded. “That’s fine. When do we start?”

“The assessment center isn’t far from the station. If you’re available, we can go now.”

“Alright.”

Ivy agreed without fuss and followed a female officer out, heading to the forensic evaluation center. Because Ivy had no mental issues and cooperated fully, the whole process went smoothly and efficiently. Less than two hours later, the evaluation was done. The results, however, would take up to fifteen business days to be released, so Ivy was free to go for now. She didn’t expect, though, that the moment she stepped outside, a familiar figure would be waiting for her.

Jamison sat in his car, eyes fixed on the doors of the evaluation center. As soon as he spotted Ivy, he jumped out and hurried over.

“Are you alright?” He barely tried to hide the worry and tension in his voice as he reached her.

Ivy frowned. “How did you even find me here?”

“You said you were at the station, so I went over. The officers there told me you’d come to the assessment center, so I waited for you here.” He remembered, too vividly, the times he’d talked to Ivy under his Dr. Handsome alias. He knew she had deep-rooted anxieties, and he’d been afraid this evaluation would trigger them—so he’d rushed over.

“I’m fine. You can go back,” Ivy replied, her tone flat.

“I’ve come all this way. I’m not about to just leave you on your own.” Jamison’s face was tight and stern, his frustration thinly veiled. But thinking of everything she was going through, he swallowed his irritation. “Fine. I won’t argue with you.” He forced himself to calm down, then glanced at her. “Are you headed back to the station?”

“Yeah.” Ivy’s answer was barely above a whisper.

The female officer stepped forward. “Miss Windsor, would you prefer a squad car, or will you ride with your friend?”

Before Ivy could respond, Jamison answered politely, “She’ll come with me. Thank you, officer, you can head back.”

“Very well.”

Once the officer left, Jamison turned to Ivy. His sharply handsome face remained stern, but there was a softness in his gaze.

“Come on. Let’s get back to the station, sort this out, then grab something to eat. You must be starving.” He reached out, intending to guide her, but she quietly pushed his hand away.

His lips pressed into a thin line, irritation flickering in his eyes, but he let it go and walked ahead to open the passenger door for her. Ivy felt utterly drained. Seeing Jamison quietly, patiently by her side—unfazed even by her coldness—left her too weary to protest further. She got in, turning her face to the window, watching the city slide past in silence.

It wasn’t a long drive from the assessment center to the police station, but with rush hour gridlock, it took more than twenty minutes. Jamison stole several glances at her as he drove. She was unusually quiet, a far cry from her usual self. After a long pause, he couldn’t help but ask, “What’s wrong? You haven’t said a word.”

Ivy drew a slow breath, her words barely louder than a whisper, as if talking to herself. “Tell me, why is it that some people treat these empty, intangible things as if they matter more than blood?”

Jamison understood instantly. “The Windsors are giving you a hard time again?”

“It’s not really ‘again’ if it never stopped.” Her tone was icy. “Since the day I came back, they haven’t let up, not even once.”

Jamison had always been reserved, especially before his relationship with Ivy thawed; he’d never been much for words. Now, he didn’t even know how to comfort her. After a moment’s silence, he spoke quietly. “As long as I’m here, they won’t get to you this time. No matter what happens, whether you want to be with me or not, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Ivy turned to look at him, her striking eyes searching his face, as if she was truly trying to figure something out. Jamison felt a little self-conscious under her gaze and managed a small, crooked smile. “What are you staring at?”

“Jamison, why don’t you care about money, reputation, the things everyone else seems to chase so desperately?” She was genuinely curious. If you compared the families, the Windsors’ prestige and pride couldn’t hold a candle to the Ludwigs. Adkins was nowhere near Jamison’s league. And yet, for the sake of their image and their interests, the Windsors could sacrifice their own daughter without a second thought. But Jamison, who had so much more to lose, was the one willing to give everything up just to shelter her. The contrast made Ivy’s resentment toward her own family burn even hotter.

Jamison considered her question seriously. “Maybe it’s just that I’m selfish in my own way. I don’t care what others think—only how I feel.”