Married to a billionaire stranger

The Retrieval

The world blinked in pulses of emergency light, every flash slicing through darkness like a heartbeat I couldn’t slow. The hum was still there—lower now, heavier, vibrating in the floor.

My head ached. The last thing I remembered was the door opening, Akin shouting my name, a surge of light—and then nothing.

Now I was lying on cold metal. Not the bed. A corridor. The sterile scent was gone, replaced by smoke and ozone.

Somewhere down the hall, a siren wailed once, then died.

---

“Akin?” My voice cracked.

No answer.

I pushed myself up, palms slipping on the floor. The corridor stretched in both directions—one end sealed by a heavy door, the other open to flickering light.

I staggered toward the open end. Panels along the wall sparked, their screens looping fragments of text:

> CONTAINMENT BREACH // SUBJECT 07 RELEASED

> RETRIEVAL PROTOCOL IN PROGRESS

> VERA ACTIVE

The last word sent a chill through me. Active.

---

My reflection flashed in a broken glass panel. My eyes glowed gold for an instant—then dimmed. I touched my cheek, shaking. “What did you do to me, Akin?”

A faint sound answered—a voice, distant but real.

“…Zara… run…”

I spun around. The voice had come from an intercom embedded in the ceiling, static-filled and fading.

“Akin? Where are you?”

More static, then: “Control… level three… they’re coming…”

The line went dead.

---

I found a stairwell and half-stumbled, half-ran down. Each level was worse—doors forced open, lights shattered, the scent of burnt wires thick in the air.

On the wall near the landing, a smeared handprint trailed across white paint. Dark, half-dried.

I swallowed hard and kept moving.

At level three the corridor opened into a larger chamber. Screens lined the walls, most shattered, one still alive. It flickered with surveillance footage—hallways, cells, laboratories—and in the lower corner, a small feed of Akin restrained in a chair, guards moving around him.

My knees went weak.

He was alive.

---

I stepped closer, hand brushing the control panel. The screen reacted instantly—lines of code racing across it.

> USER RECOGNIZED: SUBJECT 07

ACCESS GRANTED.

My breath caught. “What—”

The other feeds switched on, camera after camera blinking awake. Doors began unlocking throughout the facility, one by one.

Somewhere deep inside the building, a synthesized female voice said calmly:

> “Command authority transferred to Zara Cole.”

I froze. “To me?”

---

The speakers crackled again, a new voice—low, commanding.

> “This is Commander Falana. Subject 07 is online. Capture alive. Eliminate Oseni.”

Falana.

He was still running the project.

My hand clenched into a fist. “Not this time,” I whispered.

I turned back to the monitors. A schematic of the building appeared automatically, glowing lines marking exits—and movement. Dots of light closing in from every direction.

They were coming for me.

---

I grabbed a discarded security badge from the floor, swiped it against the door. No response. The panel blinked red.

Then, without thinking, I said aloud, “Open.”

The lock clicked. The door slid aside.

I froze again.

The system had obeyed me.

I took one hesitant step forward. “Lights.”

The corridor lit up in perfect obedience.

My pulse raced. Whatever they had built into me—whatever Vera truly was—it was linked to this place, to its very code.

---

I ran.

The air grew warmer, lights flashing in sequence as if guiding me. I turned corners blindly, following the path the system illuminated. Behind me, shouts echoed—boots striking metal, orders shouted through radios.

“Subject 07 heading east!”

“Intercept corridor D!”

I reached another intersection and saw a glass chamber ahead. Inside: machines humming around a central console, its surface smooth and silver—identical to Akin’s briefcase.

The core.

Maybe that was what they wanted.

Maybe it was what wanted me.

---

I stepped inside. The doors sealed behind me automatically.

The console lit up with my approach.

> Welcome, Zara Cole. Primary sequence stable. Awaiting instruction.

I stared at the words, heartbeat in my throat. “Instruction?”

> Confirm: Transfer or Terminate.

I hesitated. Transfer or terminate what?

The floor vibrated again—footsteps closing in outside. I could see shadows through the glass.

Akin’s voice cut through a nearby intercom, weak but clear. “Zara! Whatever it asks—don’t choose! It’s a trap!”

I turned toward the console. The words began to blink faster.

> Transfer initiating.

“No!” I slammed my hands on the surface.

The lights flared gold, spreading out in veins beneath the glass, racing up the walls. Energy—alive—surged through the air.

For a second, I saw everything—hallways, guards, Akin breaking free, the facility’s entire system folding in around me like a living map.

And at its center… a figure.

Female.

Familiar.

My mother’s face, made of light.

She smiled.

> “Zara, it’s time to finish what I started.”

The glass around me shattered outward.

Then—silence.

---