Opening Kylian's office door, I walk in to see him resting his elbows on the desk with his hands in his hair.

"What's up with you?" I ask, plopping onto the couch.

Did I annoy him that much last night? I am pretty annoying. But it's me, so it's fine.

"Get out," he mumbles, not bothering to look up at me. Ouch, my feelings.

"What's up your ass today?" I ask, "Because it's not this di-"

"Ivory," he warns. What? I thought that was funny. He just doesn't have amazing humour like me.

"Kylian," I copy his tone. It's not like I said anything wrong. I don't even have a dick but it's still fun to say.

He finally lifts his head and my eyebrows furrow when I see his red and puffy eyes as if he hasn't slept in days.

"You look like shit," I mutter. His collar is undone and his sleeves are rolled up. Seriously, what's up with him?

"Thanks for stating the obvious," he scoffs, pouring whisky into a glass but before he can drink it, I grab the cup and bottle.

Maybe it isn't my business, but he looks stressed out and alcohol isn't going to help him.

"Give it," he demands. Does he think I'm stupid? "No," I reply bluntly, placing the drink on the table as I sit back down.

"There's a mission tomorrow," he says, catching my attention. He said that yesterday but that soon? Damn.

"Shit," I mumble under my breath, standings up, "let me go tell Isiah."

"He's not going with us," I hear Kylian say just as I'm about to leave. You've got to be kidding me. He has to be joking.

"Isiah is my partner," I remind him, "if I'm going on a mission, he's going with me."

"Kylo, Bella, Riley, all of them aren't going. Isiah isn't as well," he shrugs and stands up.

"Why?" I huff. "They're going to Italy," he utters. Okay? That doesn't help.

"We're going as well but instead of going on the same plane as them, we're sneaking onto a Russian plane."

Is he being serious? Sneaking on a plane? Not to mention, in a Russian plane full of armed Russians. I'm honestly questioning his sanity.

"I'm not doing that shit without Isiah." He's been with me ever since I was seventeen. Every mission I have, he's there with me. He's like a brother to me.

"You are," he shrugs as he walks past me and out the room. Uh, no. No. No. No. Does it look like I'm an Avenger? I am not going.

And he doesn't seem like an Avenger to me. He can't just say "Avengers Assemble," then expect me to go onto a plain outnumbered.

"Sometimes I wish I had killed you," I murmur under my breath. I had multiple chances. Stupid Ivory.

"Too bad, too-" he stops himself and turns to me, "go do some stupid shit, Ivory, just fuck off."

Did he just tell me to fuck off? Yes. Yes, he did. The disrespect. How? I'm great. And didn't he ask for my help?

"What is your bloody problem?" Some girl probably rejected him. I'm not even surprised, to be honest.

"None of your business," he shrugs. None of your business. Pfft- I definitely didn't just internally mimic him.

"Do you speak Spanish?" I ask randomly. "No- why does that matter?" he huffs.

"Eres un pedazo de mierda de perro."

"The fuck did you say about me?" he scoffs. I said you're a piece of dog shit, duh.

"I said I like your hair," I shrug. I'm such a good liar.

His gaze turns into a glare. Okay, maybe I'm not a good liar.

"Mi hai fatto male al cervello," he mumbles under his breath. (You hurt my brain.)

Now, what is that supposed to mean? That I'm cool? I already know that. That I'm funny as fuck? I know that as well. I mean, what can I say? I am pretty amazing.

"Go talk to Kylo or some shit. Isiah, Riley, and Bella are out somewhere," he mutters as he walks away.

They're out? Without me? I'm shocked. And hurt. Very hurt, in fact.

They should know not to do that. But it's fine. When they come back I'll throw knives at them.

I turn around and suddenly bump into someone. "Careful, Ivory," Kylo chuckles, taking a step back.

"Kylo," I grin. Ah, just the person I wanted to annoy with questions. "Do you know what's up with Señor Mbappé?"

As soon as he hears my words, his face drops. "Uh, I'm going to go now," he laughs nervously and quickly walks away. Wait- what?

"Kylo," I warn, catching up with him, "tell me." So what if a girl rejected him? Boohoo.

"I don't think I should tell you," he shrugs. "Okay, now you have to tell me." He's just making me more curious.

"No," he bluntly replies. "I won't talk about the vampire diaries with you," I feign a sigh.

He suddenly stops walking and turns to me, "You can't say that, Ivy," he groans. Is he that easy?

I cross my arms and simply shrug. "Okay, fine. But I swear to God, I'm risking my life to tell you this," he grumbles.

"Spit it out." It can't be that bad, right? I'm sure he gets rejected a lot so he shouldn't worry.

"The only lead that'll help him find out who killed his family, this French guy, was murdered. He found out this morning," he mumbles. Oh.

"Okay, now I'm going to go," I send him a smile before turning around and walking away.

"What?" he chuckles, trailing behind me. "I'm going to help find out who killed his family," I shrug.

It can't be that hard? I'll call Isiah first, he'll find out who killed the French guy by hacking into the camera system. Then, we interrogate the killer, find out why he murdered poor French guy.

"Well, I'm helping," he states rather than asks. "Well, I'm the boss," I tell him. I'm obviously the lead detective of this investigation.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he sighs dramatically. He's in denial. It's fine.

***

"He's calling," I practically yell before answering the phone. "Yes, dear Isiah?"

"The person who killed Kylian's only lead is Charlotte Ivanova," he says. That girl? You've got to be kidding me. And to think we couldn't have been friends.

"Madeleines right hand," I mutter under my breath. "I'll call you later, Isiah," with that, I end the call.

These Russians are really starting to piss me off. I really wanted to visit Moscow but I guess not. I still like vodka though.

"Ivanova?" kylo questions. "As in Morozov's right hand?"

"Ding, ding, ding," I groan, throwing my head in frustration. I'm tired of this bullshit.

"Kill me," he begs, "please just fucking kill me." Yeah, no. "Kill me first," I grumble, resting my head in my hands.

"I can't wait to kill them," he mutters. I can't wait either. Like so what if I killed someone in their mafia. I only kill vile people so they must have been vile. Too bad, too sad.

I glance at the clock to see it's one in the morning. "I'm going to sleep," I mumble and toss a pillow on the table before resting my head on it.

I'm too tired to walk all the way to my room and I don't have my personal De Luca transportation. This house is so big.

"Me fucking too," he murmurs before doing the same as me.

You know what? I can't wait for the mission because that brings me one step closer to taking down the Russians and that's what I want.

They're a pain in the behind. But it's okay, considering I'm going to steal their mafia and everything



sorry for not updating 😱 im in a reading and writing slump

i think that means when u don't read or write but wtvr 🤪🤪

also my bad if this has mistakes, i haven't edited it

word count | 1349