The silence in my apartment was louder than the chaos outside.
My phone buzzed relentlessly on the counter, a persistent heartbeat that I wanted to smash into oblivion. But I didn't. I couldn't. Not yet. I was still trying to breathe, to remind myself that the world had just exploded in my lap and I was the epicenter.
Lyra Voss: Genetic Soulmate of Caspian Vale.Seven words that felt like a sentence.
It was a cruel joke. A glitch in a system I didn't trust, from a company I despised. I'd spent two years dragging GeneKey through the mud — leaks, exposés, anonymous tips — and now, their golden boy was the one I was paired with? The man who'd erased my sister's clinical trial data? The man whose smile on glossy magazine covers made me want to puke?
But here it was, in blinding neon: 99.98% compatibility.
I sat down hard on the cold floor, back pressed against the fridge. The kitchen around me felt too bright, too sterile, like a lab I'd once worked in. The smell of burnt toast hung faintly in the air. My hands trembled as I wrapped them around my knees.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to run.
But mostly, I wanted to disappear.
Outside, the city was a blur of headlights and sirens. Somewhere, cameras were flashing. Somewhere, millions were watching. They weren't just watching a person. They were watching me, the disgraced geneticist turned whistleblower turned viral spectacle.
I didn't answer the messages. Not yet. Not the texts from journalists, the DMs from strangers, or the sudden calls from people I hadn't heard from in years. I needed space. I needed air.
But space was a luxury I couldn't afford anymore.
Three days earlier, I'd received a call that changed everything.
The caller was anonymous, voice distorted, but the message was clear:
"They know what you're planning. They want you to stop."
At first, I thought it was a prank. Another scare tactic from some corporate thug. But then my laptop started glitching, encrypted files vanished, and an untraceable drone hovered outside my window one night.
GeneKey wasn't just watching. They were hunting.
And now, with the match leak, I was trapped.
I tried to tell myself it was just a coincidence. The algorithm was flawed. I was the scapegoat. But even I knew the truth: This wasn't happenstance. It was deliberate.
They had engineered the perfect story — a fake romance to bury the past and spin the future.
I wiped a tear that refused to fall. The phone buzzed again.
It was Caspian.
I didn't answer.
Instead, I opened the email he'd sent me hours ago, the one I'd avoided until now.
"Let's talk. For one year. Fake relationship. Cameras, shareholders, the whole world watching. You get access to GeneKey's archives. I get to save my company."
Your terms or mine. Your move.
My stomach twisted. The offer was poison wrapped in silk. A cage gilded with promises. I knew what agreeing meant. I'd be shackled to the very man I wanted to destroy. And yet, the thought of getting my hands on that suppressed data? That was the only chance I had to find the truth about my sister's death — and maybe bring down the whole damn system.
I stood up, pacing the length of the apartment. The city's glow seeped through the windows, casting long shadows on the walls. Somewhere deep in my chest, a war raged between fury and hope.
What if I said yes?
What if I agreed to play his game?
Would it be the end of me… or the beginning?
My mind spun back to the day my sister, Elara, had died. I'd stood in a sterile hospital room, watching the color drain from her face. The doctors called it a rare genetic complication — something unpredictable, unpreventable. But I knew better. I'd seen the trial data. I'd seen the reports wiped clean, replaced by fabricated results. My sister was collateral damage in a corporate war she never signed up for.
I clenched my fists until my nails bit into my palms. The fight inside me ignited.
If I played along, maybe I could get close enough to unravel the truth.
Maybe I could finally make them pay.
I took a deep breath and walked over to the small bookshelf where I kept the few remnants of my old life — photos of Elara, my lab notebooks, and a faded journal. I pulled out the journal, flipping to a page where I'd scribbled a note months ago:
"The gene map has a hidden sequence. Not love. Control."
I hadn't understood what it meant back then, but now I was starting to see the edges of a larger puzzle. Something so twisted that it made my skin crawl.
I sank onto the couch, clutching the journal like a lifeline. The city lights flickered through the window, and I realized just how alone I felt in this fight.
Then, my phone buzzed again.
This time, it wasn't Caspian. It was a message from an unknown number.
"Meet me. Tonight. Midnight. The old observatory. Come alone."
No signature. No explanation.
A trap? A warning? Or an ally?
I stared at the message, pulse hammering in my ears. My breath caught.
I knew one thing for certain: My life was about to get a hell of a lot more complicated.
Because now, it wasn't just about exposing GeneKey.It was about surviving it.
I debated for a long moment, fingers hovering over the keypad. Was I about to throw myself into another unknown? After everything I'd lost, every step I'd taken to protect myself — was I about to walk straight into the lion's den?
But something inside me stirred. A spark. A whisper of hope.
Maybe this was the break I needed.
Maybe this was the key.
I typed back a single word:
"I'll be there."
The moment I hit send, a chill raced down my spine.
Because I wasn't the only one watching the city that night.
Someone else was waiting.
And they were ready.