Monica's POV
Sullivan called with news that my meeting with Tyler was scheduled for the following afternoon. He explained his decision to hold it at the police station—a dual opportunity to take Tyler's official statement while ensuring my safety in a controlled environment.
When the appointed hour arrived, I entered the station flanked by Morris and our security detail. Sullivan ushered us into his office, asking us to wait while he retrieved the prisoner. Minutes later, he returned with two officers escorting Tyler between them.
My former boyfriend looked diminished in his orange jumpsuit, his head now shaved bare and his face sporting several days' worth of stubble. Despite his circumstances, that familiar cynical smirk remained plastered across his face, a reminder of his unrepentant nature.
"Secure him there," Sullivan instructed. The officers guided Tyler to a chair positioned in the corner, threading his handcuffs through a metal rail mounted on the wall.
