CONDEMNATION ✓

Chapter 22

The day had passed, most of which you had spent nestled quietly in your room unconscious. By the time you finally mossed out of your room, it was already well past 8 pm, and the mansion was quiet. You made your way downstairs to the living room, which was both spacious and cozy, not that you ventured far from your room often. You were becoming acquainted with other members of R's organization you felt more comfortable letting your legs wander. 

You hopped off the spiral staircase and ducked into the rounded archway that lead into the shared living space. It was clad in beautiful brown and beige tones. A stone wall housed a fireplace that served as the centerpiece that long dark leather couches surrounded. You could feel the heat radiating from the burning wood, letting you know it was lit and roaring. The heat gives a welcoming feeling to your bare legs, clad in fishnet stockings. You opted for a pair of light denim shorts and a form-fitting Queen rock band shirt, tame compared to the normal 'flashy' attire that you prided yourself in—seeing as you had no plans for the day, who cared? 

Perhaps you were feeling a bit on the defeated side. You had never failed an assignment before, and you couldn't help but dwell on it. Perfection was a must, and you couldn't stand to have the slightest loose thread, so why was this time so different? You kept replying to the events within your mind trying to come up with alternate scenarios that would have caused the assignment to succeed; much to your dismay, you were able to think of a few. 

Ripped away from your thoughts as you noticed a body tucked away in the far corner of the couch, fingers typing away furiously at a silver laptop that rested in their lap. A heavy sigh left your lips as your eyes rolled back in your head. Of course, you'd run into him, of all people. 

"Where is everyone?" You asked as you sauntered your frame closer to the welcoming leather couches. A serving tray placed elegantly atop an elegantly carved glass coffee table caught your eye. There was a spread of various snacks, a bowl of chips, and some cheese dip. A few cookies lined the corner of the half-eaten plate. You leaned over and snagged one to pop it into your mouth. 

Mono raised his eyes from his laptop and gave you a disgusted stare, clearly displeased that you were stealing his food. You flopped down on the enormous couch has you nibbled on the cookie. He rolled his eyes and brought his attention back to his computer screen. 

"Fuck if I know." He shrugged as the sounds of his tattooed fingers gliding across the keys of his computer were almost louder than the crackling fire before the two of you. "Last I heard, A team had some shit scheduled for today." 

"Jungkook and..." Your brain spaced. You were terrible with names.

"Hoseok and Taehyung." He added, finishing your sentence as you noticed your struggle to remember the other organization members. You didn't talk to them much, hardly ever saw them; how were you supposed to remember them? You had only ever worked with Jungkook and Mono this far; perhaps R was keeping the rest at an arm's length from you due to trust issues. 

Though you picked up stories here and there, Hoseok was in charge of the P.R. side

. He didn't go on risky missions. He didn't kill and strayed away from any assignment that ended in blood, which is likely why he never got paired with you. He dealt with 'hits' before their scheduled termination; your intent came from Hoseok and his trustworthy smile. 

Taehyung, on the other hand, as some had so boldly put it, was the male equivalent of you. You both held a similar role within the organization. Deception and Seduction, even though that hadn't officially been declared your 'role,' it was apparent as you kept getting put in situations that would call for you to throw the client off track with flirtatious behavior and your selective acting skills. However, he was legendary, he had never fumbled in a single assignment where you already had one mark on your reputation. 

You sneered at the mention of the latter name, taking a violent bite from your cookie before chewing it with a childish grumble. Your free arm folded against your chest as you crossed your arms with a huff. 

"Seriously, you's needa get over yo attitude with Tae." Mono said, shifting his black eyes toward you for a brief moment before resuming whatever he was working on. The improper way of his speech still rubbed you the wrong way to this day. 

"He called me a piss-poor carbon copy!" You exclaimed back as you whipped your head toward Mono. "So, sue me if I think he's a dick." Recalling the one time you met that man in the kitchen one night. Mono had to come running in to pull you out of the cabinets as you searched for a knife or a frying pan. Anything to beat that man senseless with. 

"He don't like that we got two people with tha same style in her'." Mono explained as he freed a hand from the keyboard to brush back his jet black hair from his eyes as slap it back down on the electronic device, causing a spark of curiosity to arise in you as you wondered what it is he was working on. How could you two have grown up together, yet he was the only one that had such a thick accent, if you could even call it that? 

"It's not like I wanted this job." You rolled your eyes and shoved the rest of the sweet treat in your mouth to rid yourself of the distaste you felt toward the beautiful asshole of a man. No matter how much you disliked him, you couldn't deny he was the most ethereal-looking men you had ever seen in your life. Sadly, that fact alone wasn't enough to stop you from wanting to beat his pretty little face. 

"He'll get over it as you's get more hits under yo belt," Mono grumbled dismissively though realization seemed to set in with what he had just said, and he raised his head from his laptop. With one look, you knew he was informed of your failure from last night. "Everyone makes mistakes, Y/N." 

"Pffth." You scuffed as you curled up your lip and turned your head away from him, causing your blueberry locks to sway and lightly scrape at your shoulders—lines like that we reserved for failures. 

"You got seven successful assignments 'ight? This ain't no biggy." His lower lip popped as he attempted to be encouraging toward his little sister, but you wanted none of his sympathies. 

"Bullshit." Your head rolled back to him. "It matters, and you know it. This line of the work doesn't leave room for failure." You folded your arms together tightly and tried to retreat into yourself. 

Mono reached up and grabbed the rim of his laptop as he slammed it shut. He pushed himself out of the plush couch and sat along its edge. Hunching over to you, he offered you his complete attention, which you didn't want in the slightest. He stared silently at you for a few seconds, enough to make your blood pressure rise along with your irritation. You were being looked at as a weakling; at least, that's how you felt. 

"Fine." He pushed himself from the cushions and moved to stand. He tucked his laptop under his arm and stared at your downcast expression. "Then don't let it happen again." His words took a harder approach, trying to appeal to your stubborn personality. Why did his tone suddenly become... grammatically correct? "Move on." 

Questioning the sudden shift in his way of speaking with a crinkle of your brows, he turned on his heel and headed for the hallway. The remainder of his food was left discarded for the maid to collect later. You tilted your chin up to watch him leave, a burning gaze glaring at his back as he disappeared. You couldn't stand this; your failure hung over your head like a blanket of snow suffocating you. 

Standing up from your seat, you made haste, quickly making your way back to the stairs and running up them as you jogged toward your room. You were going to fix this, no matter what it took. You'd wash the stain of failure from your hands with bleach if necessary; you refused to be the reject of this organization as long as you were forced to be in it.