LOGINBy the time the introductory session ended, two whole hours had passed. Yet, judging by the schedule displayed in the waiting room, this was far from over. Before there was even a moment to catch a breath, instructions were given to move to another room—this one designed like a conference space. White walls. Minimalist designs. Plush seating. A massive screen stretching across the front. A seat was indicated. It was taken. Barely a second later, Rita’s voice filled the room. “What you are about to watch is a compilation of the Whitlock business’ ventures, growth, and expansion over the years,” she announced, her tone smooth and matter-of-fact. “This will help you fully grasp the weight of the responsibility on your shoulders.” Oh, great. No pressure. The screen flickered to life, leaving no time to brace for the history lesson that began instantly. Dramatic music swelled as images of towering skyscrapers, high-stakes business meetings, and lavish galas filled the sc
Nina hesitated, but Rita didn’t have to tell her twice. With a reluctant sigh, she stepped forward. “As you can see from the notice board,” the AI began, her voice smooth and clinical, “this is where you will find a display of all your daily activities, important announcements, calendar updates, and more…” As Rita droned on, her eyes flicked over the neatly pinned papers. Her stomach dropped. Her entire week was packed. Each note detailed a rigid schedule—what she’d be doing, what she was expected to accomplish, and probably what she’d be scolded for not doing well enough. A lot of virtual lectures, a ton of personal study time. So that’s what all those books were for. Great. Just great. Then, she noticed something else. Presentations. What kind? Was she supposed to stand in front of some panel and convince them she was Adelaide? But none of that—none of it—horrified her as much as the next thing her eyes fell upon. Daily morning workouts. She blinked. Excuse me? “Yo
The sound hit her like an alarm—one of those obnoxious, blaring ones that made people want to throw their clock out the window. But this? This was worse. Wait. What? Was she in danger? Her sluggish mind scrambled to piece together reality as she shot up from bed, instincts screaming at her to prepare for battle. Heart pounding, she tried to figure out where the sound had come from. No immediate threats. No flashing red lights. So what the hell— A voice cut through the haze. “Miss Adelaide. Welcome back from sleep. You slept like you were struggling. Did I make things difficult for you?” Rita. Damn it. She had forgotten about her. Narrowing her eyes at the camera tucked in the corner of the room, Nina fixed it with a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “What are you now? A creep? Can’t I even get a moment of sleep in peace? And what the hell was that noise just now?” “Oh, that?” Rita’s voice carried an unmistakable note of smug satisfaction. “That was your alarm.” She bli
Nina screamed, thrashing against their grip as two burly men dragged her toward a black van parked across the street. She kicked, twisted, did everything she could to shake them off, but it was like trying to break free from a steel trap. Just moments ago, she had been running for her life. The second she realized her so-called coworkers had thrown her under the bus—turning their backs as if she had never existed—she bolted. She had slipped out through the café’s back door, sprinting down alleyways, ducking behind dumpsters, weaving through the streets like a hunted animal. She had even managed to shake off the men tailing her by leading them down the wrong route. By the time she made it home, she was breathless, her legs aching with exhaustion. But there was no relief. Right there, parked in front of her building, was that van. She stopped dead in her tracks, heart hammering. They were waiting for her. Two men sat in the front, their eyes scanning the street like hawks,
After what felt like hours of sitting on the floor, drowning in the eerie silence of her newfound prison, the AI’s voice rang out again—still cold, still emotionless, but at least this time, it wasn’t telling her to rest. "Now is the time for your lunch. You will be having a steamed salmon fillet with quinoa and a side of sautéed greens. Please make your way to the dining room, Miss Adelaide." She didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t even acknowledge it. She just sat there, arms wrapped around her knees, staring at nothing. Maybe if she ignored it, it would go away. Maybe if she stayed there long enough, the system would glitch and let her starve just out of sheer inconvenience. But, of course, she wasn’t that lucky. "You have thirty minutes to have your lunch, after which your next meal will be dinner at eight." A pause. Then, with unnerving patience, the voice added, "Please indicate if you would like your lunch turned into dinner. Otherwise, move to the dining room now."
The moment Nina stepped into the room, she felt like she had walked straight into a modern-day fairytale. It was nothing short of magical—like the kind of room a princess with a black card and impeccable taste would have. Whoever had designed it? Absolute genius. Since there was nothing better to do, she decided to explore, and within minutes, she understood exactly why Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock had insisted she didn’t need to bring anything with her. This place had everything. The wardrobe alone looked like it belonged to a celebrity—high-end clothes, designer shoes, and accessories that she could never exhaust, even if she changed outfits three times a day for a year. Every corner of the room was stocked with luxury items, beauty essentials, and all the little indulgences a girl could ever dream of. But her favorite part? The balcony. Stepping onto it, she took in the view—crystal-clear waters stretching endlessly, the salty breeze brushing against her skin. It was breathtaking
“okay breathe" Nina said to herself as she took a deep breath It was becoming painfully clear just how much effort had gone into burying the secrets between Adelaide and Nathan. Every thread she tried to pull unraveled into nothing, carefully stitched back to keep her in the dark. But she wasn’t
Adele’s smile didn’t falter, but her response remained robotic. “I’m sorry, but I cannot answer that. However, I can provide information about Miss Adelaide.” Nina groaned, tossing the wipe onto the table with a pout. “Of course you can’t,” she muttered at the unhelpful response. “Fine. Just lock
Thankfully, Nina didn’t have to force herself to say anything because the sound of soft footsteps behind her broke the silence. Turning her head, she saw who it was, and relief poured through her like a tidal wave. “Master Graves, I was told to inform you that the party is over. And Miss Adelaide
The conversation should have started immediately. The weight of their halted discussion pressed down on her like an unseen force, heavy and suffocating. But instead, Mrs. Whitlock reached for a serving spoon, her movements graceful and deliberate. “I know what you’re thinking,” she said, a knowi







