Unveiling
849 Words
Chapter Eight: The Unveiling
Tamryn stared at the email on her work tablet for the hundredth time. Report to the top floor conference room at 9:00 AM. The CEO will be addressing all staff. The sender was anonymous, but the instructions bore weight. Whitemore Labs didn’t do casual meetings...at least not in the few weeks she’d been there.
She adjusted her blazer, smoothing the fabric as nerves coiled in her stomach. She still hadn’t seen the real boss. Silas had always been the face of operations, a man with effortless authority and disarming charm. But today… today something felt different.
The conference room buzzed with murmurs and shifting feet. Staff huddled in small cliques, whispering theories. Security had been ramped up. Keycards had been reissued. Something was happening.
Then the door opened, and silence cracked through the room like lightning.
A man walked in, tall, cold, and far too familiar.
Tamryn’s breath caught in her throat.
She recognised the man.
It was him.
The man from the café.
The one she’d spilled coffee on. The one who had looked at her like she was dirt under his boots.
He strode forward like he owned the world, his eyes scanning the room with a predator’s calm. His perfectly tailored suit didn’t need the flash of a name tag. Every fiber of the room reacted to his presence.
Lucien.
The CEO.
Her boss.
Her actual boss...not the one she had unconsciously assumed.
Tamryn froze, pulse drumming. You have to be kidding me. She shrank back instinctively, her body reacting before her mind could catch up.
Lucien’s gaze swept across the employees, and when it landed on her, the corner of his mouth lifted...not in kindness. In recognition.
In amusement.
“Effective immediately,” his voice was low but commanding, “we are initiating new internal protocols. Someone from the Alchemic Accord has infiltrated our organization.”
Gasps rippled.
“Security will be tightened, and divisions will be monitored. You are to report suspicious activity. Trust no one.”
Then, just as he turned to leave, his eyes flicked back to Tamryn.
“Miss Rhidian,” he said, voice sharp as glass. “A moment.”
No no no. Her legs moved before she could will them not to.
In his office, she stood stiffly in front of his obsidian desk. She avoided eye contact, fists clenched by her sides.
“I-I’m sorry for what happened at the café,” she blurted, voice small. “I didn’t know— I mean, I wasn’t aware—” she stammered.
“I gathered as much,” Lucien said dryly, not looking up from the file in his hands. Her file. “Though I admit the panic was… entertaining.”
She flushed. “I meant no disrespect, sir.”
“Then you should work on your balance,” he said coolly, closing the folder with a snap.
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Her thoughts scrambled like marbles on tile.
“Why—why did you call me here?”
Lucien leaned back, regarding her like a curious lab rat. “I had questions. I thought speaking with you directly might clarify a few things.”
She nodded rapidly. “Of course.”
“I no longer have those questions.”
What?
“But I expect you to be more careful next time, Miss Rhidian. Our lab does not operate like a high school cafeteria.”
He dismissed her with a flick of his fingers. “That’s all.”
Flushed and mortified, Tamryn turned and scurried out.
She barely made it down the hall when she bumped into Silas.
“Whoa there,” he chuckled, steadying her. “Someone looks like they walked out of a lion’s den.”
Tamryn managed a weak smile. “uhm...sorry sir"
Silas gave her a look. “Don’t worry. He growls more than he bites.”
She doubted that. Lucien had the energy of someone who enjoyed biting.
"See you around then" Silas said as they parted ways, Silas heading toward the executive wing while she moved back down to her level. As she neared the reception area, she noticed the familiar sleek ponytail of the woman seated at the front.
Nessa.
The same woman who had directed her to Room 9A during her interview.
Tamryn slowed her pace, half-hidden behind a support column. Nessa was on a secure call, her voice lowered but intense.
“…security’s already been upgraded. You shouldn’t risk another move now.”
Pause.
“No, not with him back. It’s too dangerous.”
Tamryn frowned. Was she talking about Silas or the CEO ?
Nessa’s tone shifted. “I told you, the Accord needs patience. One mistake and everything unravels.”
Tamryn froze.
The Accord?
But she shook the thought. It could be a coincidence. Maybe it was something else. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Still, her gut twisted uncomfortably.
As she turned to leave, she made a mental note: something wasn’t right. She’d keep her eyes open.
Whatever was happening at Whitemore Labs… it ran deeper than she thought.
- Writer
