Chapter 5: Displayed

The boardroom was on the ninety-eighth floor.

Glass walls.

Twenty executives.

One enormous table that could seat thirty if necessary.

And me, hidden beneath it.

8:59 a.m.

I knelt beneath the conference table, concealed by the floor-length cloth.

The carpet was soft beneath my knees. The air smelled faintly of lemon polish and expensive cologne.

At the head of the table sat Ignis Heliox.

Calm.

Immaculate.

Completely unreadable.

He was preparing to lead the Q3 review as though I wasn't there.

Rule one.

No sound.

No movement.

No reaction.

My black dress from the previous evening clung to me, deliberately chosen to make me feel exposed.

Before we'd left his office, he'd inspected it carefully.

“Be ready,” he'd told me.

I hadn't understood what he meant then.

I did now.

My earpiece clicked.

“Opaline.”

Ignis's voice was barely audible.

“Stay still.”

I lowered my eyes.

The meeting began at exactly nine.

Gareth appeared on the enormous wall display.

Fyorra, the Head of Ethics, sat three seats away from Ignis.

She was different from the other executives.

She didn't look nervous.

She watched.

Her pen moved slowly across her notebook as she studied the financial reports.

Every few seconds, her gaze shifted around the room.

I had the unsettling feeling that she noticed everything.

“Let's begin with marketing projections,” Ignis said.

His shoe brushed lightly against mine beneath the table.

A warning.

Stay still.

Fyorra began her presentation.

“The current compliance figures show—”

Ignis interrupted her.

“Your numbers don't match Finance.”

Fyorra didn't blink.

“There was a discrepancy in reporting, Mr. Heliox. It's been corrected.”

“Corrected after the fact.”

His voice remained calm.

“That isn't compliance.”

His eyes narrowed.

“That's a cover-up.”

Fyorra closed her folder.

“I take responsibility. It won't happen again.”

“It better not.”

The room went silent.

I held my breath.

Then Fyorra spoke again.

“There's another matter.”

Ignis leaned back.

“Go on.”

“Access logs for the executive floor.”

Something changed in the room.

Barely.

But I felt it.

Ignis's expression became completely still.

“Denied.”

Fyorra's eyebrows lifted.

“Security access falls under Ethics.”

“Not this security matter.”

“Why?”

Ignis looked directly at her.

“Because I said so.”

The silence that followed was heavier than before.

Fyorra didn't back down.

“I'll need a formal explanation for the record.”

“You'll get one.”

“When?”

“When I decide you need it.”

Her jaw tightened.

I realized then that this wasn't a meeting.

It was a battlefield.

And somehow, I'd been placed in the middle of it.

“Gareth,” Ignis said, turning toward the screen, “your thoughts on the marketing plan?”

Gareth cleared his throat.

“I think the projected—”

A tiny sound escaped me.

My entire body froze.

Ignis's eyes moved toward the edge of the table for half a second.

Then back to Gareth.

“Continue.”

I pressed my lips together.

I couldn't afford another mistake.

Not here.

Not with twenty executives sitting above me.

Fyorra's gaze shifted toward the table.

For one terrifying second, I thought she was going to look underneath.

Then Ignis spoke.

“The meeting is adjourned.”

Everyone stopped.

“Fyorra, stay.”

He looked at the screen.

“Gareth, we'll speak later.”

The display went black.

Chairs scraped against the floor.

Executives gathered their folders and left.

One by one.

Until the massive boardroom became silent.

The door closed.

I finally released the breath I'd been holding.

Ignis looked beneath the table.

“Come out.”

I crawled out carefully.

My legs were numb.

I tried to stand.

They nearly gave way.

Ignis caught my arm.

“Did you break Rule One?”

“No, sir.”

“You almost did.”

“I know.”

He released me.

Then Fyorra spoke.

I had forgotten she was still there.

“You can stop pretending this is normal.”

I turned.

She was standing beside the table, watching me.

There was no disgust in her expression.

Only calculation.

“You can't keep doing this,” she said quietly.

I swallowed.

“You don't know what you're talking about.”

“I know enough.”

Her gaze moved toward Ignis.

Then back to me.

“Whatever he's paying you, it's not worth it.”

I laughed bitterly.

“You don't know what he's paying me.”

“I know what power looks like when it's being abused.”

Ignis's expression hardened.

“Fyorra.”

She didn't look at him.

“I’m opening an investigation.”

My stomach dropped.

“If you cooperate,” she continued, “I may be able to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?”

Her eyes finally met mine.

“From him.”

I looked at Ignis.

He said nothing.

That silence told me more than words could have.

I walked out.

The hallway felt colder than before.

When I reached my desk, I found a sticky note waiting for me.

Three words.

Stop pretending you don't like it.

At the bottom was a single initial.

—F

My fingers tightened around the paper.

Fyorra?

Or someone else?

My phone vibrated.

Unknown number.

I opened the message.

Under the table. 9:17 a.m. You were close. Tell me I'm wrong.

There was an attachment.

A photograph.

I opened it.

My blood ran cold.

It was me.

Under the table.

Kneeling.

The photograph had been taken from above, through a narrow gap in the cloth.

Someone had been close enough to see everything.

Close enough to photograph me.

Close enough to get caught.

I stared at the image.

My heart hammered.

If that picture leaked, I wasn't just losing my job.

I would be destroyed.

I deleted the message.

Then I deleted the photograph.

At least, I thought I did.

Across the room, one of the assistants glanced at me.

Then quickly looked away.

My stomach tightened.

Was it her?

Had she taken the photograph?

Or had someone else been standing inside that boardroom?

At 11:30, the intercom crackled.

“Opaline. My office.”

I stood.

My legs still felt weak.

As I passed the assistants, I heard one whisper.

“You're going to get us all fired.”

I kept walking.

Ignis's office door was open.

He stood beside the windows, his back toward me.

“Close the door.”

I did.

He turned.

His eyes immediately settled on my face.

“You look different.”

“Someone sent me a photograph.”

His expression didn't change.

“From this morning.”

I pulled out my phone.

“Under the table.”

“Show me.”

I handed it to him.

He studied the screen for several seconds.

Then placed the phone on his desk.

“Delete it.”

“I already did.”

“Good.”

He walked toward me.

“Did you tell anyone?”

“No.”

His expression softened by the smallest fraction.

“Good.”

He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Rule One applies to this too.”

I looked at him.

“You don't speak about it.”

He paused.

“You don't react to it.”

Another step closer.

“And you don't let anyone see you afraid.”

“What if it leaks?”

“It won't.”

“How can you be sure?”

His eyes held mine.

“Because I control who has access to that feed.”

The words chilled me.

He wasn't denying the photograph existed.

He was telling me something much worse.

He knew exactly where it came from.

“You know who took it.”

A faint smile appeared.

“That isn't your concern.”

I hated that answer.

But I nodded.

“Go back to work.”

I turned toward the door.

“Opaline.”

I stopped.

“Wear something else tomorrow.”

I looked back.

“That dress is mine now.”

My heart skipped.

I left.

Back at my desk, I noticed the sticky note still lying on the floor.

I picked it up.

Stop pretending you don't like it. —F

I stared at those words for a long time.

Then I turned the paper over.

With a black pen, I wrote beneath the message:

I don't like it.

I paused.

Then added:

I love it.

I stared at the sentence.

I didn't know whether it was true.

But for the first time since I entered Heliox Global, I felt like I'd made a choice that belonged entirely to me.

Then my phone vibrated.

Unknown number.

One new message.

Good. Now we can talk.

My blood went cold.

Because this time, there was no photograph attached.

Only an address.

And it was somewhere I had never been.

Heliox Global — Basement Level 3.

Midnight.

Come alone.