King of Crime ✔️

A New Partner

As soon as Houghton arrived at the table, got himself a chair and sat down, I turned back to Samantha. She had shrunk in her seat, following the agent's movements, paying him a smile when he glanced at her. He reached out his hand to greet her.

"Special Agent Jacob Houghton," he said, with stern eyes. "CIA." 

I leaned back in my chair, observing how Samantha reacted to the man. Honestly, I thought it to be incredibly nerve-wracking to have a CIA-agent with me on a case, who was constantly getting under my skin and never brought something in of their own. They were always just obtaining intel on cases with these 'cooperations'. 

But this one was especially aggravating. He didn't agree with my interrogation of Samantha, so he insisted on speaking to her personally. I couldn't just let him without supervision, so here we were. 

This didn't mean I was with him on this, at all.

"Samantha Davies," she introduced herself and shook his hand, looking at me as if I betrayed her. 

Well, sorry. I also had a problem with how she asked about a CIA-agent on the phone yesterday, and her reaction to the man affirmed that there was indeed something she was not telling me.

"Samantha Davies," the Agent repeated in himself, scanning the table, arching his brow at my empty plate. "Johann Hannig's girlfriend. How young." 

I cleared my throat, steepling my fingers. This man, honestly. And my colleagues thought I was bad.

"No, I'm not." Samantha said, daring to look the man in the eyes who, devoid of any emotion, stared straight back. She crossed her legs, jiggling her foot. 

I let my gaze finally brush over her appearance, now she was completely occupied with Houghton. Her earrings that peaked through her brown curls, her visible neck and shoulders. My gaze turned into a mindless stare. 

I slept way too little last night, due to Mathhias' stupid raiding-action. 

I rubbed over my stubble, smiling at the waitress who picked up my plate and coffee. She hesitantly regarded the other two, and I realized that the only girl at our table looked a little troubled. Houghton was harshly questioning her about her relationship with Hannig, making the waitress frown.

"Is everything alright?" she quietly asked me.

"Yeah, it's alright. Thank you." 

Samantha paused in her story, sensing the tension from the waitress, and smiled at her. The dark-skinned woman relaxed her frown and returned the smile, leaving us alone.

"So, what I was saying, it's pretty simple. He likes me, I don't like him," Samantha told the CIA-agent, tucking a curl behind her small ear.

"What is it about you that he likes so much? Why is it you he chases? What makes you special?" the agent relentlessly fired at her.

"You can read the letters if you'd like to know that."

"I'd like to hear it from you." 

Samantha sighed, still holding up her smile, but clearly not into it.

"Well, I wouldn't really know, but he says he adores me mostly in a sexual way." Her eyes darted from Houghton to me and back to the man, who made it very clear he wanted to hear more. "I honestly don't know what you want me to say. Someone doesn't choose the person he falls for and there's certainly no logic behind it either." 

I saw her pinching her thumb fanatically.

"So, you're saying that he's in love with you."

"No, I said that he fell for me in a sexual way."