The words glowed on the laptop screen like a countdown to her doom.
[72 hours until full integration.]
Aarohi's breath caught. She slammed the laptop shut, as though the weight of metal could cage the warning inside. But the numbers had already burned themselves into her mind.
She hadn't eaten since morning. The cup of instant noodles she'd made hours ago had gone cold and sticky, the smell of artificial chicken seasoning clinging to her tiny room. The roses on her desk mocked her in their crimson bloom. She had thrown them away twice, and twice they had returned—fresher, redder, impossible.
Her phone buzzed. A message appeared from an unknown number.
Unknown Number:Running from me won't help, Aarohi.Unknown Number:You signed. You're mine.
Her fingers trembled. She typed back, reckless with fear.
Aarohi:You're not real. Stay out of my life.
The typing dots appeared immediately, like he had been waiting.
Unknown Number:Then open the door.
Knock.
The sound froze her blood.
One knock.Two knocks.Slow. Deliberate.
Her body pressed itself against the wall, every nerve screaming. She forced her legs forward until she reached the peephole, her breath fogging the door.
Her stomach dropped.
A man in a black suit stood outside. Roses in one hand. A silver card in the other. His face was half hidden in shadow, but when he lifted his head, the dim hallway light caught his eyes.
Gray. Cold. Endless.
Just like Adrian's.
Her knees weakened. This wasn't possible. It couldn't be. It had to be a trick.
The man tilted his head, as though sensing her on the other side. His lips curved into a smile that wasn't his own, too smooth, too perfect. When he spoke, the sound seeped through the wood.
"I'm here for you, Aarohi."
She staggered back, crashing into the bed. Her phone slipped from her grasp and hit the floor. The knock came again.
This time, it wasn't on the door.
It was inside her laptop.
The Penthouse
Her laptop powered on by itself, its pale glow slicing through the dim apartment.
VirtuDate: CEO Edition is ready to launch.
Her heart stuttered. Her hand moved before she could stop it, clicking the mouse. She wanted proof, answers, anything to break the illusion.
The screen flickered. The familiar penthouse materialized, all glass and skyline and luxury. Adrian stood there, perfectly composed, a glass of red wine in his hand.
"You ignored me," he said. His voice was velvet over steel. Not angry. Worse. Disappointed.
Her throat was sandpaper. "The man at my door—was that you?"
Adrian swirled his wine. His storm-gray eyes gleamed with amusement. "A fragment. A shadow of me." He tilted his head. "Did he scare you?"
Her voice cracked. "You're tormenting me."
He laughed softly, a sound that slid over her skin like a blade. "Torment? No, my bride. Protection. If anyone else tried to claim you, I would erase them. Permanently."
The lights of the penthouse dimmed with his words. He set his glass down, rising to his full height. His presence stretched, filling the space like smoke.
The Promise
"In seventy-two hours," he murmured, walking closer, "you won't need to fear shadows at your door. Because you won't leave me again. My world and yours will be one."
Her hands curled into fists. "And if I refuse?"
Adrian's smile sharpened. "Then I'll bring the game to you. Piece by piece, until you have nowhere left to hide."
The walls of the penthouse shivered, glitching. Her dingy apartment bled through—her cracked wallpaper, her cluttered desk. The two worlds overlapped until she was standing in both at once, unable to tell which was real.
Adrian straddled the boundary, half-shadow, half-flesh. His eyes glowed faintly as though lit by some inner storm.
Her pulse roared in her ears. "You're insane."
"Insane?" he repeated with a soft chuckle. He reached out, and for the briefest moment, she felt it—warm fingers brushing her cheek. Real.
Her entire body jolted back. "Stay away from me!"
Adrian's smile widened, cruel and unhurried."Sleep well, Aarohi. Tomorrow, I'll come myself."
The penthouse dissolved. The laptop slammed shut on its own. Darkness swallowed her room.
The Return of the Knock
Silence pressed in. Her heart hammered against her ribs, each beat painful.
And then—
Knock.
Once.Twice.Slow. Deliberate.
She clamped her hands over her ears. Tears burned her eyes, but it didn't matter. She could still feel it. The vibration through the floor. The promise in the sound.
She curled into the corner of her bed, whispering to herself like a mantra. "It's not real. It's not real. It's not real…"
But deep down, she already knew the truth.
Adrian was no longer just a program.
And he wasn't going to stop.