TWISTED ꜜ LOUIS PARTRIDGE

⟾ 6 | TRYNA' DATE ME, BABY?

"Unwed?"

"No signs of a relationship, either."

"Brilliant," I said, pulling on my dress, "let's change that."

Now, I wasn't interested in him, because—mind you—I don't get feelings, but I could use it as an advantage to my plan. I know his type, because his type is just like the others. Bachelor, who gets distracted by a pretty face.

And I wanted to leave Louis Partridge a little gift.

Or a threat.

Same thing.

"Are you seriously trying to seduce him?" Millie gasped, shutting her computer closed, "you're already in dangerous waters by messing with that other agent, why do you need another?"

"Because I need to learn as much as I can about Louis."

"Why?"

"Advantage," I shrugged, before pausing, "and maybe my own self-interest."

I won't be an oblivious idiot and say that the man wasn't attractive, but he was the face of everything I hated. Arrogant, condescending, and male. I wasn't going to bother with him when it didn't involve trying to kill him. I could do that in twenty days. I was just having my fun.

"So you're going to get to Partridge," Millie mumbled, "through his best friend?"

I wrinkled my nose. "I don't think they're best friends."

"Really?"

"When they were talking, William seemed put off ," I explained, "I don't blame him really, Louis really is insufferable sometimes."

Grabbing my heels from the bin beside the drawer, I slipped them onto my feet and made my way towards the door. I had a man to play, and I couldn't wait. I was doing it for the reason of quenching my boredom, having a little flirt with a gullible dimwit, and leaving a threatening message to the man who thought he could beat me.

He can't.

───── ⋆⋅🔥 ⋅⋆ ─────

THIS IS TOO EASY.

Millie managed to make me a fake file in the SIS, so walking through security took no time. To everyone else, my name was 'Rachel Abel' and I worked in Intel. I also received the location of the office I needed to go to, and the knowledge that Louis wouldn't be in until another hour.

So I was running on time.

Shame, I'd rather walk.

As I paced through the marble hallways of the Agency, I tried to hide my distaste of the design. White walls, glass screens, holograms and hollow minds displaying information everywhere. It seemed like these so-called 'heroes' cared more about their appearances than they did the law.

Wasted money and wasted time.

The Partridge-Franklyn-Miller office was on the third floor, in the third room, three ways down. It was like the world was trying to kill me. I hated threes, and I hated what they stood for. I only had to glance at the triangle tattooed onto my arm to remember why. Three sides, three people, three words written on the bottom.

Shaking away the thoughts, I adjusted my dress, fixing my appearance before taking a step into the open doorway of the office.

I knocked on the doorway.