In The Company of Your Shadows || Phillip Graves x OFC

22 - Sanctimonious Bitch

The room was bleak, exuding a sense of foreboding; everything was colored gray, including the door, chairs and table, except for the giant two-way mirror spanning the left side of the wall. It was an interrogation room after all, and here I am, sitting in it as Oz glared at me.

I adopted a defensive posture, crossing my arms and legs while trying to maintain an air of nonchalance, a façade I had honed over years of fieldwork.

"So," Oz began, leaning back on his seat with his hand curled on the table, his tone edged with frustration, "mind telling me how the fuck she managed to get away?"

I sighed, my eyes darting to the metal table before me, avoiding his piercing stare. "She put one over me," I muttered, my voice barely audible.

"You're telling me she outsmarted you?" Oz's voice rose in disbelief before he slammed his hand down on the table, causing me to flinch involuntarily. "She's a mere comms and information agent, and you're a seasoned operative. How the hell did she outwit you?"

"I guess she knows how to play the game." I countered, my voice steady despite the rising tension.

"She outplayed you," he seethed, his voice laced with accusation. "And now she's out there, god knows where, while we're left cleaning up the mess."

I remained composed despite his outburst, understanding his frustration all too well. This situation weighed heavily on me too, but I couldn't bring myself to betray a friend, no matter the cost. Perhaps my apparent carelessness was a deliberate choice, a way to protect her.

"I knew I should've handled this myself," Oz continued, his voice dripping with disdain. "But I trusted you, thought you were capable of handling it. Clearly, I was wrong."

He continued. "This is why women are called emotional; you use your heart more than your brain"

"Watch your tone," I warned, my voice laced with irritation.

"You were the one who made such a big deal about rooting out traitors, but now that the shoe's on the other foot, you suddenly have a change of heart?" Oz's words cut through the air like a knife, his tone dripping with contempt. "Talk about a double standard. You're nothing but a hypocrite."

"I never claimed to be a saint," I shot back, my voice tinged with defiance.

The tension in the room was thick, each word exchanged between Oz and I a sharp blade slicing through the air. His accusation that I thought myself better than others struck a nerve, though I refused to let it show. This wasn't the time for wounded pride or bruised egos; it was about survival.

"Oh, but you act like you are. You think you're above this, you think you're better than everyone." Oz spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "This is real life, Raven, not some young adult fantasy novel. Actions have consequences."

"Better than everyone? Please, I know my place," I shot back, my tone sharp as I met Oz's gaze head-on. "And if this were a young adult fantasy novel, I'd be the one with the dragon, not the damsel in distress."

"You know that it'll only end badly for you if it's proven that you deliberately let her get away. And if you think that being Graves' lover is gonna get you out of that, then you're wrong."

"As I've said, she got the jump on me," I reiterated, my tone unwavering. "You can search the house; it's a wreck from our scuffle."

Oz scoffed, his frustration evident as he leaned back in his chair, his demeanor shifting from anger to resignation. He knew my arguments held weight, which I had indeed engaged in a struggle with Leen before she slipped away. But beneath his exasperation, I sensed a grudging respect for my steadfastness.