No strings attached / Leon s. Kennedy

Chapter 10

Amber

It's been a few days since I realized the letter was missing, and I've been a wreck ever since. In that time, I managed to ask for a few days to work from home, and thankfully, they agreed. It's given me a reprieve, at least for now. Working alone, without Leon breathing down my neck, without the constant anxiety of sitting beside him and wondering if he suspects anything—it's been a small relief.

I've thrown myself into my work, hoping to drown out the nagging feeling in the back of my mind. But no matter how hard I try to focus, that missing letter is always there, haunting me. It doesn't help that I have no idea where it could have gone. I've gone through every inch of my apartment, hoping I misplaced it or accidentally stuffed it somewhere. But nothing.

For now, I've managed to stay under the radar. No one's asked about the letter, and Hughes hasn't been breathing down my neck about anything. Yet. But I'll have to go back to the office tomorrow, and that means facing Leon again. I hate it, but I can't keep hiding.

I close my laptop and lean back, staring up at the ceiling. Tomorrow, I think. Back to the grind, back to pretending everything's fine, while knowing there's a crucial piece of the puzzle missing. All I can do now is hope it doesn't come back to bite me.

As I sit there, staring blankly at my ceiling, a sudden realization hits me. Leon. He was the last person in my apartment before I realized the letter was missing. My stomach tightens, and the pieces start falling into place. I've always been suspicious of him—his entire presence at Umbrella feels off, like he's constantly keeping something hidden. This just amplifies those suspicions.

He's probably an undercover spy from Stratcom. It makes perfect sense now. The way he's always trying to charm his way into conversations, asking questions that seem innocent but digging for information. His calm, collected demeanor, always hovering, pretending to be another cog in the machine while keeping a close eye on everything. It's been gnawing at me from the beginning, and now this... the missing letter.

Fuck, I think, feeling a rush of frustration and panic. He must have taken it. It's the only explanation that fits. He came into my apartment that night, probably saw an opportunity, and swiped the letter when I wasn't looking. He's playing a dangerous game, and I've been underestimating just how far he's willing to go.

If he really is working for Stratcom, then everything he's been doing is a lie. All that small talk, the annoying remarks, the pretending to be someone who's just trying to fit in—none of it is real. He's here for something bigger, and I've just been another piece of his puzzle.

I clench my fists, trying to calm myself. If he's really taken that letter, then he's a bigger threat than I thought. Tomorrow, when I'm back in the office, I'll have to keep a close eye on him. No more letting him get too close. No more slipping up.

That's it. Tomorrow, I'm sitting Leon down and giving him a piece of my mind. No more tiptoeing around or pretending that everything's fine. If he took that letter, I need to know, and I'm not about to let him weasel his way out of it.

I can already picture the confrontation. I'll sit him down and ask, no—demand to know if he stole it. I won't let him talk his way around this, not this time. He's been sneaky, always hiding behind that smug attitude of his, but this time I'm going to get answers.

He thinks he can outsmart me? Thinks he can play these little games and walk away with classified information? Not on my watch. If he's working for Stratcom, I'll find out, and if he's taken the letter, there will be hell to pay.

The thought fuels me, steeling my resolve. Tomorrow, I'll confront him. No more pretending, no more games. If Leon thinks he can outsmart me, he's got another thing coming.