espionage [h.s.]

THIRTY FIVE

A.N. If you missed the announcement I made on my profile, I'm taking a lil writing break bc I need to finish some essays and study for January exams. I'll probably only be gone for like a week, maybe two at most. But I made this chapter extra long to tide you guys over in the meantime. It's lowkey a v cute one 🖤

ROCHELLE

I sit cross-legged on the bed in my room in the trainee living quarters, narrowed eyes entirely focused on the phone laid before me as if I can use my own mental power to make it ring.

Since being here, I've grown to absolutely despise being in this claustrophobic cupboard-sized room, which also has a creaky bed and a shower that only produces hot water when it feels like it. Although, it's not like I've spent much time in here, especially as I try to avoid it at all costs now that I've experienced how the other half live with Harry's apartment. I'm pretty sure that me staying over at his place has now become an extended invitation, and although Harry looked a little disappointed when I abruptly left his apartment earlier, I couldn't stay there tonight. I couldn't just sit there and ignore what I had seen in that photo album.

I almost jump when the phone suddenly rings, an unknown number flashing on the screen, but I already know it's Milos. Mostly because after he told me he no longer wanted to read my reports on everything happening at the institute, he started to call me biweekly instead (Wednesdays between the hours of 9-12pm), but also because I've been trying to get ahold of him for the past hour through every contact I have, the majority of which included asking people to pass along my angry threats. Muttering 'fucking finally' under my breath, I snatch the phone up from my bed and press answer, bringing it up to my ear.

"Hello, Rochelle," he greets me. "I've heard through the grapevine that you've been tirelessly trying to contact me tonight. So, can I help you with something?"

I scoff, shaking my head in disbelief. "Uh, yeah, actually, there is something you can help me with," I reply in a snappy tone. "Like, for example, telling me why the fuck you sent someone else to do this job before me?!"

There's silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds, which only further fuels my rage. The longer he doesn't say anything the angrier I get, and just as I feel like I could crush the phone in my hands with how tight my grip is, he suddenly speaks again. "Ah," is all he says, humming under his breath. "I suspected you may find out about that sometime."

"You suspected?" I echo bitterly. "You really think you could send me to a place where you've already sent someone else who's on your payroll, and only 'suspect' that I'd find out about it? The world is smaller than you think, Milos."

He scoffs in response. "Please don't attempt to educate me on the world," he warns. "Also, Anita is no longer on my payroll, due to the fact that she completely failed the job I sent her on. She hasn't worked for me, and I haven't seen her, since then."