The city was a labyrinth of light and shadow beneath my glass tower, endless veins of traffic and data pulsing through its core like a living organism. From up here, thirty-seven floors above the chaos, everything looked orderly—predictable even. And that was exactly how I liked it. Controlled. Calculated. Measured.
For years, I had built GeneKey on that principle. The perfect formula for love, or at least the illusion of it. Genetic compatibility distilled into an algorithm so precise it promised to end heartbreak, betrayal, loneliness—replace messy human emotions with scientific certainty.
Until today.
Until Lyra Voss.
That name alone was enough to unsettle the rigid architecture of my mind.
Match found.
Lyra Voss.
Ninety-nine point nine eight percent compatibility.
My phone vibrated against the polished wood of my desk as I stared at the screen with a mixture of disgust and disbelief.
She was the ghost in my machine. The woman who'd nearly shattered my empire two years ago when she exposed the dark underbelly of GeneKey—our dirty secrets, suppressed trial data, the deaths we had buried. She was the reason my company's reputation was dangling by a thread.
And now, the algorithm insisted she was my soulmate.
The absurdity of it burned.
I crushed my phone in my fist before the assistant's voice crackled through the intercom.
"Sir, the news leak is spreading fast. Your match with Lyra Voss is front page everywhere. The press is calling it destiny."
I said nothing. I didn't want to dignify that nonsense with a response.
Destiny.
I was a man of data, not fairy tales.
The boardroom was cold and sterile, much like my own thoughts as I entered with calculated precision. The shareholders were jittery—stock prices dipped with every rumor about the "GeneKey match scandal."
Marianne Cross, my razor-sharp lawyer, sat with an unreadable expression.
"We must control this narrative. A public fake relationship between you and Lyra is the only way to salvage trust," I declared, voice calm and authoritative.
A murmur swept through the room.
"We'll present it as a redemption story," I added. "A second chance. Love conquers all."
None of them believed it. Least of all me.
Marianne slid a contract across the table.
"Terms bind her to cooperate fully—access to company data, exclusivity, confidentiality. If she refuses, we have leverage."
I looked around the table. Everyone nodded, eager to avoid disaster.
But the truth was simple: this was a power play. I needed Lyra inside the fold, whether she liked it or not.
Later, in my office, I paced with a glass of whiskey in hand, the amber liquid reflecting the harsh city lights.
She was more than a threat.
She was a challenge.
And as much as I hated it, I was curious.
What secrets had she uncovered? What truth lurked beneath her crusade?
My phone buzzed again—a message from Aiden, my closest ally and head of security.
"We've detected encrypted messages in the system—possible hacking attempts from unknown sources. Also, anomalies in the suppressed data. It's worse than we thought."
My fingers clenched around the glass.
"Prepare the team. Full lockdown. I want every byte traced."
Aiden's reply was swift: "On it. Alex is assembling a cyber task force now."
A part of me wondered if this was just the beginning of something far bigger than Lyra and me.
The nights grew colder, the city quieter, when I decided to visit the old observatory on the edge of town. It was a relic, abandoned and forgotten by most—a place where stars were once charted, secrets whispered among the constellations.
A notification had come through anonymously on my phone: Midnight. Observatory. Alone.
No sender.
No explanation.
I had a sinking feeling I knew who it was from.
The observatory was a hollow shell, dust motes dancing in moonlight spilling through cracked windows. The air smelled of rust and memories.
"Caspian Vale," a voice cut through the silence.
I drew my concealed pistol, heart pounding.
From the shadows, a figure stepped forward, coat drawn tight, hood shadowing their face.
"Who are you?" I demanded.
The figure smiled faintly.
"Someone who knows the truth behind the GeneKey façade. Someone who is tired of lies."
I lowered the gun slightly but remained wary.
"What do you want?"
"To stop the game. Before it's too late."
They reached into their coat and produced a small data chip.
"Everything you need to know—the true purpose of the soulmate system, the control mechanisms embedded deep in the code."
I hesitated.
"Why should I trust you?"
"Trust no one," they said. "But listen closely. This fake relationship you're about to enter? It's more dangerous than you think."
Before I could respond, they melted back into the darkness.
I was left alone with the chip and a growing sense of dread.
Back at the tower, I fed the chip into my secure terminal. Hours slipped by as encrypted files unfolded on my screen—layers upon layers of hidden code and twisted agendas.
The soulmate system was not what the public believed.
It wasn't just about matching love interests.
It was a social control tool, a manipulation weapon designed to influence loyalty, population behavior, and even political dynamics.
A perfect experiment in engineered obedience.
I sat back, stunned.
Who had designed this secret code?
Who was this third party Aiden warned about?
The algorithm was no longer mine to command.
My thoughts were interrupted by a call from my assistant.
"Sir, Lyra Voss has accepted the terms. She'll arrive for the press briefing tomorrow morning."
The news should have been a relief.
Instead, it tightened the knot in my gut.
This wasn't going to be easy.
Lyra was no puppet.
She was a storm.
And I was about to be caught in the eye.
That night, as the city lights flickered below, I stared out the window, feeling the weight of everything crashing down.
The perfect equation was unraveling.
Control was slipping through my fingers.
And the woman I was supposed to fake love might be the only person who could save me—or destroy me.
------------------
The next morning arrived with the sterile buzz of media crews and flashing cameras in the GeneKey atrium. The press briefing was a spectacle—carefully scripted smiles, rehearsed lines, and the illusion of a new beginning.
Lyra entered with quiet defiance, her eyes locking with mine for a heartbeat that lasted an eternity.
The world watched.
Our fake love story was about to begin.
But behind the cameras, behind the smiles—
The code was broken.
And the experiment was just beginning.