UNDERCOVER ARRANGEMENT
1270 Words
Arcadia Dynamics looked normal on the surface the next morning—too normal.
People rushed to meetings with overpriced coffees, printers hissed angrily at innocent employees, and the air-conditioning blasted its usual “arctic tundra” temperature.
But Seraphina Vale knew better.
Someone had tried to trap her.
Someone had spoken through a hacked elevator system.
Someone wanted her intimidated.
Instead, she arrived at work wearing her brightest blazer and the calmest expression she could manage just to be petty.
Juniper met her outside the analytics floor, gripping a clipboard like it was a sword.
“You survived the night,” she whispered dramatically.
“I wasn’t in the wilderness,” Seraphina sighed.
“Same thing. Arcadia is a jungle.”
Before Seraphina could reply, Caelum appeared behind her—quietly, the way he always did, like he materialized from shadows and controlled atmospheres.
“Vale,” he called.
Juniper jumped. “Director! Could you maybe wear bells? Or a warning sign? Or stomp louder? Something?”
Caelum ignored the comment.
“Meeting. Now.”
Seraphina blinked. “What kind of meeting?”
“The kind where you don’t get to argue.”
Juniper mouthed, he’s terrifyingly attractive when he’s annoyed.
Seraphina mouthed back, focus.
She followed Caelum across the floor and into a restricted conference room she’d never used before. The glass walls frosted automatically as soon as the door shut.
Caelum placed a folder on the table.
“We’re going undercover.”
Seraphina blinked. “Come again?”
He opened the folder to reveal a printed schedule and two ID passes with unfamiliar names.
“One of the leaks occurred through Arcadia’s off-site innovation lab,” Caelum explained. “Someone used the employee shuttle yesterday evening without authorization. We reviewed the logs.”
“And?” Seraphina leaned forward.
He pointed to the printed times.
“They used a fake identity. One that belongs to no one in the company.”
She frowned. “Someone impersonated an employee. Again.”
Caelum nodded.
“Which means,” Seraphina said slowly, “they’re comfortable moving in and out of restricted spaces.”
“Comfortable,” Caelum repeated, “but not careful enough. They left a trail.”
He tapped the ID badge with her assigned undercover name: Elara Quinn.
Seraphina raised a brow. “Quinn?”
“You want something else?” Caelum asked.
“No… it’s fine. It sounds… sharp.”
“And your role,” Caelum continued, “is an internal auditor doing surprise inspections at the off-site lab.”
Seraphina smirked. “Please tell me I get to flash a badge dramatically.”
“You absolutely do not.”
She ignored him.
“And what about your disguise?” she asked.
He slid over his own badge: Dorian Hale, Systems Engineer.
Seraphina stared at the picture.
Caelum wasn’t smiling, but his hair in the ID photo was slightly out of place, and she didn’t know why that made him look almost approachable.
“Dorian Hale, huh?” she said. “Any relation to Juniper?”
“Coincidence.”
She scoffed. “Sure.”
He leaned forward. “The shuttle leaves in thirty minutes. And once we’re there, we act like colleagues. Not investigators.”
Seraphina raised her hands. “I can pretend to like you.”
Caelum gave her a flat look. “Please behave.”
“No promises.”
---
THE SHUTTLE RIDE
The corporate shuttle looked like a futuristic bus designed by someone who loved steel and hated comfort. The seats were stiff, the windows tinted so dark it felt like night inside, and the overhead lights flickered faintly.
Seraphina and Caelum sat beside each other—too close for her liking, mostly because she was aware of every detail: the crisp line of his suit sleeve, the quiet confidence in the angle of his posture, the faint scent of cedar she refused to admit she liked.
“You’re staring,” he said without looking at her.
“No, I’m thinking,” she replied.
“You stare when you think.”
She gripped the seat. “Maybe you’re imagining things.”
“Am I?”
She refused to answer.
The shuttle rumbled as it exited the main building, passing Arcadia’s reflective exterior and heading toward the off-site facility near the edge of the city.
Seraphina leaned slightly closer. “There’s something I still don’t understand.”
“What?”
“You said the saboteur was wealthy and powerful. But what if they’re not working alone? What if this is a group?”
Caelum’s eyes darkened. “That’s what I’m beginning to suspect.”
A chill slid down her spine.
“Then why target me?” she whispered.
“You weren’t the target,” Caelum said quietly. “Your department was. You were just the one sharp enough to notice first.”
Seraphina looked out the window.
“That’s comforting.”
“You want comfort,” Caelum said, “or honesty?”
She exhaled. “I want the truth.”
He nodded slowly. “Good. Then stay close today. And follow my cues.”
She opened her mouth to respond—but the shuttle lurched suddenly, brakes screeching as it jerked to a stop.
The driver shouted, “What in the—?”
Everyone stood up to look.
The shuttle had been blocked.
By a vehicle Seraphina recognized instantly.
A matte-black car with tinted windows.
No plates.
Parked diagonally like a deliberate obstacle.
Caelum was already up, hand on the emergency lever. “Stay here.”
Seraphina stood. “Not happening.”
“Vale—”
But she pushed past him and peered out the windshield.
A person stepped out of the black car.
A woman.
Tall. Confident. Wearing a crimson coat that moved like liquid fire when she walked.
Kiera Solane.
Head of Media Relations.
Professional troublemaker.
And someone with enough ego to start a fight in front of a building full of cameras.
She stopped a few meters from the shuttle and smiled up at Seraphina—slow, deliberate, like a cat that caught something interesting.
“Well,” Kiera called, her voice clear even through the glass, “isn’t this a fun coincidence?”
Caelum muttered, “It’s not a coincidence.”
The shuttle driver whispered, “Should I… reverse?”
“No,” Caelum said. “That’s what she wants.”
Seraphina’s pulse quickened. “Why is she here?”
“Because,” Caelum said quietly, “our saboteur sent a messenger.”
Kiera lifted a single sheet of paper.
Then she let it float to the ground.
On its surface, printed in red ink:
TURN BACK.
Seraphina’s jaw clenched. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy proving her wrong.”
Caelum put a hand on her shoulder—firm, grounding.
“This is a warning. Not an invitation.”
“Too bad,” Seraphina said. “I don’t take warnings from people in dramatic coats.”
Caelum couldn’t hide the ghost of a smile.
But his eyes remained serious.
“This changes things,” he said. “Kiera wouldn’t show up unless she wanted to intimidate you.”
“She failed,” Seraphina muttered.
“She failed,” Caelum agreed, “but she won’t stop.”
The shuttle slowly reversed as Kiera stepped back into her car, watching Seraphina with a smirk that promised more trouble ahead.
And Seraphina watched her right back.
“I hope she’s ready,” Seraphina said under her breath.
“Because I’m done playing their game.”
Caelum nodded. “Good.”
Then he said something she didn’t expect.
“Because now… we play mine.”
- Writer
