After the boardroom success, Mel was called back into Rhys's office. He was standing, looking out over the city, a triumphant, almost dangerous stillness about him.
"Leila Vaughn is contained," Rhys stated, turning to her. "You performed your function perfectly. You understood that loyalty in this business is not to people, but to the objective."
He gestured to her desk, where a small, high-security tablet lay. "Your reward is access. This tablet contains the full data logs for the Argos Initiative's digital security audit—the real one, not the board presentation. It includes details on all digital contracts, server locations, and proprietary security architecture."
Mel's heart quickened. This wasn't just corporate data; this was the network Project Chimera was hidden within.
"Why give me this, sir?"
"Because you are now my lead analyst on internal threats," Rhys replied, his gaze intense. "The leak who gave you the codename Chimera is still out there. Leila was a target of opportunity, not the source. Your next assignment is to use this data to find who is manipulating the Kallen Capital Group systems, the real mole. You have the access, Mel. Use it to protect the company."
He was giving her the power to find the truth, but framing it as a hunt for his enemy. This was the only way to find Leila's original source and dismantle the corruption from the inside.
The tension between them escalated immediately. As Mel reached for the tablet, Rhys moved, effortlessly bridging the space between them. He didn't touch her, but the air was charged, suffocatingly close.
"One more thing, Mel," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, intimate register.
"You're working round the clock for me. You are now officially indispensable. That requires a certain level of... presentation."
He paused, letting his eyes sweep over her tired form.
"I have a mandatory corporate dinner tomorrow night with several global partners to celebrate the Argos vote. I need an intelligent, articulate analyst present. You will be my date."
Mel stared at him, speechless. "Your... date, sir? With all due respect, I'm your analyst."
"Precisely," Rhys countered, a dangerous smirk touching his lips. "You've proven you understand my strategy better than anyone. It's part of the job now, Mel. You're no longer lurking in a cubicle; you're an extension of my command. This is not a request; it's a mandatory appearance. The 70th floor has a wardrobe allowance. Use it."
The sudden mandate was the ultimate power play, demanding not just her loyalty but her presence by his side. It was the final test of her commitment to his world.
Mel returned to the dorm late that night, the secure tablet burning a hole in her bag. She found Tia sitting at her desk, studying.
"You look like you just survived a crash landing," Tia said, shutting her book. "What did he make you do now?"
Mel recounted the impossible day: the betrayal of Leila, the secret data access, and the final, shocking demand.
"He wants me to go to a corporate dinner as his date," Mel whispered, feeling overwhelmed. "He's making me use the company's money to buy a dress and pretend to be... something I'm not. It feels like he's trying to own me."
Tia sat beside her, her expression serious. "Listen, Mel. Rhys Kallen is trying to isolate you. He wants you to believe that the only safety, the only truth, is with him."
Tia held Mel's gaze, her voice firm. "But you see this differently. You wear the dress. You go to the dinner. You charm his partners. You become the extension of his command, because that is where the real power is. You use the night to observe the men he trusts, the partners who benefit from the corruption. You go to that dinner as a spy, Mel, not a date. And while you're there, you gather information that the tablet can't give you."
Mel looked down at the tablet in her hand. The night was no longer a personal drama; it was the next phase of her dangerous mission. She was Rhys Kallen's spy, and her next target wasn't a file—it was his inner circle.