Rain hammered against the glass walls of the tiny apartment, blurring the neon lights of the city beyond. Aarohi Sharma sat cross-legged on her bed, her laptop screen casting a pale glow across her face.
Another rejection email blinked in her inbox.Subject: We regret to inform you…
She groaned, dragging a hand over her face."Same story. Every. Single. Time."
Her scholarship barely covered tuition, and her father's failing shop back home couldn't send her a single dollar. Rent was late, her internet bill overdue, and her stomach was empty. She opened her banking app anyway—Balance: $3.87
"Perfect," she muttered. "Absolutely perfect."
Scrolling through her inbox, she almost missed it—Subject: URGENT – Beta Testers Wanted ($500 Immediate Payout)
Her brows shot up. Scam? Definitely. But her finger hovered. Hunger, debt, and desperation blurred her better judgment.
Click.
A sleek, black-and-gold webpage filled her screen.Congratulations, candidate. You've been selected to participate in a closed beta for VirtuDate: CEO Edition.
Requirements:
Minimum 30 minutes daily login.
Confidentiality agreement (NDA).
Guaranteed $500 within 48 hours.
Her eyes widened. Five hundred dollars… That was rent, food, and a ticket out of this mess.
She clicked Accept.
The First Login
By midnight, a strange new icon glowed on her desktop: VL:CE.
The loading screen was cinematic, like a Hollywood film—tall skyscrapers under a stormy sky, a jet flying over a glittering city, and then—dark eyes opening.
Welcome, Participant 1042.
Aarohi smirked. At least they know I'm just a number.
But the moment the screen shifted, her smirk vanished.
She stood—not sat—in a marble-floored boardroom, the glass walls overlooking a night city that looked like New York, not her dusty Indian town. The simulation felt real, too real.
At the far end of the room, a man in a perfectly tailored black suit leaned against the conference table. His silver cufflinks gleamed, his tie was flawless, and his storm-gray eyes locked onto her as though he had been waiting.
"You're late."
Aarohi blinked. "Excuse me?"
He pushed off the table, walking toward her with a slow, measured grace. Every step echoed like thunder in her ears.
"I don't like being kept waiting," he said. His voice was deep, commanding, unsettlingly real. "Tell me your name."
Her throat went dry. She hadn't typed anything yet. How could he ask her directly?
"…Aarohi," she whispered before realizing she'd answered instinctively.
The man's lips curved. Not a smile—something sharper, more dangerous.
"Aarohi Sharma," he repeated, as if tasting her name. "Beautiful. Perfect. From this moment on, you belong to me."
She took a step back. "Whoa, relax. You're just… a game character."
He tilted his head, amusement glinting in his eyes. "A game character?" His tone was silk and steel. "If I were just code, could I do this?"
The screen flickered—no, the room flickered. For a split second, she saw her real apartment flash across the glass walls. Her peeling wallpaper. Her crooked fan. Her messy bed.
And then his whisper, close to her ear though he hadn't moved an inch:"I'll see you tomorrow, Aarohi."
The simulation shut down.
The Roses
Her laptop screen went black. She sat frozen, her pulse racing.
It was just a program. Just a job. Just money.
So why did it feel like the man inside her laptop had actually seen her?
Shaking, Aarohi closed the lid and forced herself to sleep.
But the next morning, when she opened her apartment door, her breath caught.
On the floor lay a bouquet of blood-red roses, fresh and glistening with dew. No note. No delivery slip.
Except—tucked between the petals—a silver card gleamed.
"For Aarohi – from Adrian Knight."
Her hands trembled. That was his name. The CEO from the game.