Will you help me?

  Harper’s words rang in my ears like a song slightly out of tune, replaying each time I tried to close my eyes. I turned to my side, then my stomach, then my back again, sheets twisted around my ankles like restraints. My body begged for sleep, but my mind kept circling.

  I remembered nodding automatically in the affirmative to Harper’s question, but she’d left so worked up she didn’t wait for an answer. Helping Harper expose the truth of this facility was also a commitment to jeopardizing my place in the trial. I was still trying to figure out if that mattered to me.

  Is Dr. Stevens telling the truth about my progress? Did she mislead Ryan and Ben too?

  I hadn’t seen Ben’s room, but I could picture how they described it: the overturned chair, the desk drawer yanked out, clothes scattered as if someone had searched frantically.

  What were they looking for? Where are Ryan and Ben?

  A deep sigh escaped me. Ruminating wasn’t helping.

  I summoned Derek to my mind, imagining him beside me in bed and recalling our summer together at the apartment I shared with Lina. I pictured him in his thin black T-shirt clinging to the musculature of his chest and biceps, and his ridiculous boxers covered in llamas wearing hats, the only whimsy he ever allowed himself.

  “What should I do?” I whispered to the shadow.

  He laughed, low and familiar. “Since when do you listen to me?”

  “I came here, didn’t I?”

  “True. But you were under duress.”

  “Fair.”

  He tilted his head, studying me like he always had. “Do you remember what I told you when we first met?”

  I thought back. I remembered the crowded conference room. Mom was standing at the podium presenting on tissue regeneration. My paper cup of coffee was hot between my palms. Derek slipped into the seat beside me on the aisle, just late enough to annoy.

  At the end of Mom’s speech, the oaf on my other side jumped to his feet, clapping wildly, and smacked my hand so hard the coffee splashed across my lap and the cup landed in Derek’s. We both leapt up, hissing from the burn as the hot liquid seeped through fabric onto our thighs and more delicate places.

  The oaf apologized profusely. I saw Derek’s expression of outrage twist into something absurd, and I couldn’t help but laugh. That caught Derek off guard, and he laughed too. Of course, this has to happen the one time I wear white.

  Derek took off his suit jacket and tried to pat down my ruined pencil skirt, then froze, realizing exactly where his hands were. He stepped back awkwardly, slightly horrified.

  “Oh my God, I’m sorry—”

  “No worries,” I said, still laughing.

  “I feel like I should buy you dinner now,” he said, recovering with a crooked smile.

  “I could eat.”

  We ditched the conference center and walked into the city. Mom didn’t seem to mind when I told her we were leaving together, though she did warn me to tread carefully with her boss’s son.

  Derek led me to his favorite Irish pub. I asked for a Guinness, explaining I liked bitter flavors. He smiled, amused, and ordered us both a pint of the house bitter instead.

  “You’ve got to try my favorite,” he said, his tone casual, but there was a quiet insistence in the way he reached for the glasses.

  I raised an eyebrow but shrugged. Curiosity won over.

  I took a tentative sip, acknowledging the lightly hopped, slightly malty flavor tickling my taste buds. “It’s pretty good!”

  “So you like bitter drinks... tell me more,” he said, leaning slightly closer.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything.” His voice was playful, but there was seriousness underneath, a genuine curiosity in his eyes.

  I cautiously told him about my law school aspirations and how that shattered my mom and dad’s expectations that I’d choose a scientific path.

  “You don’t have to explain,” he said, relaxing. “I’ve never made my father proud. Whenever I think I’ve accomplished something great, he says, ‘That’ll do for now.’”

  “Brutal,” I murmured.

  He shrugged, leaning closer, blue eyes flecked with gold fixed on mine. Lowering his voice, he said, “Sometimes I think about leaving ViraRx.”

  “Really? To do what?” I asked quietly. He looked down, sheepish, and interlaced his fingers with mine, sending a flutter through my belly.

  “I studied mechanical engineering, concentrating in robotics. I figured the robots will need someone to build them until they learn how to build themselves.”

  We chuckled.

  “So, being a trillionaire’s son isn’t all fancy jets and private parties?” I teased.

  His grin faltered briefly, but he didn’t let go of my hand. “My father tells me where I can go, who I can be with, and what I’m allowed to do. I don’t think he trusts me to think for myself. He says I have a lot to learn about how the world really works and what it means to be the one who steers society.”

  “Ah. No pressure, then,” I said lightly.

  “No, none at all.” He smiled, releasing my hand to sip his drink.

  Drinks became dinner, followed by a walk along the illuminated path through Boston Common, the city’s central park. Six hours later, we were still talking, our breath visible in the cooling evening air. I had never gotten to know someone so fully so quickly. We spiraled through every forbidden first-date topic: God, politics, marriage, kids. When he pushed back on my ideas it only strengthened my confidence, and I loved every moment of our easy banter.

  When it was time to part, he walked me down to Park Street Station and we exchanged numbers while waiting for the train. The approaching train’s horn blared, forcing us to pause.

  “Well, I guess this is me. See you later?” I said, waving.

  He nodded, smiling, and I reluctantly turned toward the platform. Just as the doors opened and the crowd surged around me, his hand grabbed mine, tugging me off balance. I stumbled into him, heart racing, and braced against his shoulders. His firm grip steadied me at the waist, a strength both reassuring and commanding, eyes gleaming with mischief and something darker. A current of anticipation ran low in my belly as he leaned in, daring me to reciprocate.

  We shared a soft, lingering kiss, hidden among the crowd, then drew apart just enough for our foreheads to touch, our breaths matching pace as if preparing to run some distance together. A bump to my shoulder from the crowd jolted me back to reality.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “I have to go!” I panicked, realizing I might miss the train. I stepped back, and his grip reluctantly let me slip away. I ran across the platform and boarded just in time.

  “I’ll call you!” I heard him shout, but the noise around us swallowed the sound.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss—or how much I wanted it again.

  From there, we quickly became inseparable. He was the first person I thought of when I woke up and the last voice I heard before I slept. Even Lina remarked at how much time he was spending with us at our apartment. She questioned his motives, but I assured her we weren’t rushing into physical intimacy. Our connection was mostly emotional.

  He told me about his younger sister, Aria. He was three when she was born and insisted to his mom that Aria was “his baby,” spoiling her shamelessly. By twelve, between scaring off nannies, he had learned to cook to feed himself and his sister while their parents traveled for ViraRx, leaving them in the care of part-time tutors and household staff.

  That story stirred memories of Sophie. Tears welled in my eyes as I nervously told him what had happened. Derek only listened. He held me close without speaking, letting me unravel without trying to fix it. It wasn’t the same understanding Will and I shared, but a different kind of comfort, as if he were far enough removed from it to be strong for me. He wasn’t walking the steps of grief with me; he was the rock I clung to until the wave passed.

  But a couple of years later, he got his Thynkchip and things began to change.

  “Why would you do this? Why wouldn’t you tell me before getting chipped?” I demanded when he picked me up after work from GBLS. I hadn’t seen him in a few days, and I had the sinking feeling something was wrong.

  “It wasn’t my choice,” he replied flatly. “You know my father.”

  “Derek, you have to help me understand. This goes against everything we talked about,” I pleaded.

  “He didn’t ask me if I wanted this—he decided I would have it.” He hissed through gritted teeth, knuckles whitening on the steering wheel, eyes locked on the road avoiding mine.

  “He did this to you without your consent?” My stomach recoiled at the thought of him drugged and dragged from his bed, waking up integrated to experimental tech with unforeseeable consequences. I could only imagine the terror he must have felt. Hot anger boiled my blood, a rage I hadn’t felt since they took Sophie away.

  “Don’t be dramatic. I’m lucky to have this opportunity. Most people won’t be able to afford it for another decade. All the executives are chipped. This is a good thing. I promise,” his voice cracked on the last word as he patted my thigh in hollow reassurance. I squeezed his hand. We drove the rest of the way to my night class in silence where he dropped me off. I was out of words.

  In the following months, I noticed his eyes glazing mid-conversation and the beat before he answered a question stretched too long. He often pressed his fingers to his temple like he had a perpetual headache.

  He became more guarded. Less present. Irritable. I felt like I was constantly competing for his attention against voices only he could hear. His father’s influence over him weighed heavily, bleeding into our life together. My frustration reached a breaking point while he stirred sauce at my stove and casually mentioned he’d miss my law school graduation.

  “You promised you’d be there for my speech!” I snapped, my voice rising despite myself.

  “I meant to,” he said. “But my father is sending me to S?o Paulo to present to Terrnova.”

  “Which has to be this weekend? He’s known about my graduation for months.”

  “Yeah, well, you could have graduated sooner if you’d joined ViraRx when he asked. But the schedule is what it is. Mia, you know this is my first big assignment too. I couldn’t say no. This acquisition could save billions of lives down the road.”

  “For those that can afford it,” I said, crossing my arms.

  “Everyone will have access.”

  “Access won’t be equal!”

  “But it will be FAIR,” his volume rose, matching mine.

  “How can a system built to privilege some and oppress others EVER BE FAIR?!” I shouted, leaning closer, hands trembling.

  “I don’t expect you to understand all the nuance, Mia!” he said, voice still rising and tightening with frustration. His free hand clenched into a fist. “And I’m sorry I’m missing your big day—but you’re not the only one working toward something that matters.”

  “Is this how it’s going to be from now on? Your father will always come between us? HELLO JULIUS! DEREK’S MAKING PASTA!” I leaned in, pressing my hands to his shoulders and standing on tiptoe to shout into his ear.

  “Ow, Mia! STOP—” He shoved me with one arm, harder than he meant, pain flaring in my back as I stumbled against the counter’s edge.

  “Oh, Mia—I’m so sorry.” He dropped the spoon and stepped toward me, but I raised my hand to stop him. I didn’t want to be touched.

  “I wasn’t trying to be rough,” he said, face flickering with remorse. I believed him but didn’t let it soften me.

  “I’m fine,” I said quietly, the fire inside me reduced to embers, rubbing my back and wondering if it would bruise. “But I’m disappointed. You broke your promise... And I’m not hungry anymore.”

  I bit back my tears and turned for the bedroom, craving distance.

  “Mia, don’t. Don’t push me away. It was one mistake.”

  "I’m not the one doing the pushing, Derek,” I said, firm but hurt.

  After that argument, I felt a wedge grow between us. Derek’s feelings for me hadn’t changed, but his world demanded so much that he expected me to fit into it seamlessly. I overheard him on more classified calls. We stopped talking about our secret plan to move to a New England coastal village so we could sit on our porch and watch the waves crash against the barrier. He was still Derek, but I watched him slide under Julius’s shadow, tethered to something he couldn’t unplug from.

  I shook the memories loose and tried to remember a happy one. I pictured us at the rooftop beach Derek had taken me to after I took the bar exam. Most natural beaches had been devoured by the ocean, replaced by artificial ones like playgrounds for the rich, scattered across the city’s rooftops. For the first time in a long while, it seemed I had him entirely to myself.

  Derek stretched out on his back beside me on the blanket in blue-and-black ombre board shorts, a book on energy efficiency open across his bare chest. I lay on my stomach in my red two-piece, trying to read my spicy romantasy while his hand wandered down my back to the curve of exposed skin.

  “Not distracting in the slightest,” I remarked.

  “Do you mind?”

  “Not particularly,” I said, angling my body toward him.

  He smiled, turning toward me, sliding his hand down my lower back, cupping the curves around my bikini bottom and holding them firmly for a moment as he leaned over to kiss me gently before rolling back to his book. We stayed like that for a long time, soaking in the sun and drifting in our respective worlds. We came back to each other when red and orange painted the darkening sky.

  “Should we pack up?” I asked.

  He hesitated. “Mia, I want to talk to you about ViraRx.”

  The drop in my stomach was instant, but I paused. Let me try not to hate this for one minute.

  “Okay,” I said finally. “What about ViraRx?”

  “My father wants to bring you in now. You’ve graduated, and I’d bet crypto you passed the bar. We can’t put this off forever.”

  “You know how I feel about ViraRx, and how much I love GBLS.”

  “I thought you understood that was temporary. You didn’t want to take the credits from my father to pay for law school. That’s cute. I respected that. But now we have to start thinking about our future.”

  “And a future with you means giving up what I love?” I strained to keep my voice steady, aware of our public surroundings.

  “I thought you loved me more than work,” he said quietly, his words cutting sharp as he glared at me, though his bottom lip trembled.

  “And I thought you loved me most,” I said, matching his tone and giving him the side-eye. “You could leave ViraRx.”

  “And do what?”

  “I think the robots are still waiting for a Master. Or... I can support us.”

  He laughed, but I knew it wasn’t about the robots.

  “Be serious, Mia. I’ve been preparing to take over ViraRx my whole life. ViraRx will give us and our future family security. Just like we’ve talked about. Your little law firm won’t even exist in five years.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “I don’t know...” he backtracked, “It’s a hunch. Technology is moving forward fast and corporations like ViraRx can fill gaps that states can’t.”

  “And who is protecting the people? Our rights? We’re just supposed to sign away our autonomy for the promise of food and shelter?”

  “And water.”

  “I’m not joking.”

  “Neither am I.” He snapped, then softened. “Look, democracy is dying. We can either join the new world order now or get buried under it. I know you’re not that na?ve.”

  He sounded exactly like Julius in that moment. I recoiled, horror and disgust hot in my throat. Regret washed his face and the sneer he held vanished, replaced with something desperate, “Mia, wait—I, please...”

  But I was already pulling my cover-up over my shoulders, sandals scraping the sand. I left him with the blanket and the sunset and took the train home. Alone.

  Sleep took me in restless waves. Phantom Derek shifted closer in my bed, ”I did say sorry for that evening. If memory serves, we made up... amicably.”

  “If that was ‘amicable,’ I’d like to know what hostile feels like.” I smirked, biting my lower lip as his mouth curved into his familiar cheeky grin.

  "Have you remembered what I told you when we met?”

  “Was it the robots?” I asked. He chuckled.

  “No, beloved. What did I tell you about my father?”

  “He always gets what he wants, no matter the cost?”

  He nodded. “Right. Interfering now is suicide.”

  “But—”

  “You’ll have to face yourself in the mirror. You don’t need me to tell you what to do—you just needed a push to reaffirm what you already believe.”

  Bleh. He was insufferably right even in my imagination.

  I opened my eyes. Morning light pooled across the ceiling and spilled down the walls. The sheets still clung heavy to my legs. I swung them off and let my bare feet meet the cold floor. My body moved before my doubts could catch up.

  ViraRx didn’t own my allegiance through blood or marriage—yet.

  I was ready to give Harper my answer.