The photo burned in her mind long after the phone screen went black.
Aiden.
His face half-covered by the oxygen mask. Tubes feeding him life. The stillness of his chest. And in the corner the shadow. Black Swan's reminder that they could touch him anytime they wanted.
She placed the phone face down on the desk. Her fingers curled into fists until her knuckles whitened.
Fear was a luxury. Fear made you sloppy. And she had no room for sloppy.
Kieran Wolfe was the path to Lucent. Lucent was the path to Aiden's survival. And to get there, she had to make him let her in.
The next morning, she came dressed in a shade of confidence no one could question soft blush on her cheeks, hair swept up so the line of her neck showed just enough. Her skirt swayed when she walked, professional yet dangerous.
She wasn't here to chase romance. She was here to seduce him into lowering his guard.
The hours passed in the usual rhythm meetings, analysis reports, guarded small talk. Kieran stayed distant, speaking only to issue instructions.
By eight o'clock, the building was almost empty. The city outside shimmered under night lights, glass towers reflecting in the river like molten steel.
Mei stayed. So did he.
Kieran looked up from his screen. "Still here?"
She didn't look up immediately. Instead, she finished typing, then slowly lifted her gaze to meet his. "I thought I'd get ahead. And… you're still here."
"I own the place." The corner of his mouth almost moved almost.
She leaned back in her chair. "Maybe you could show me more about Lucent. Last time was… a little too quick."
For a moment, he didn't answer. Then he stood. "Come on."
Lucent Room 8:17 p.m.
The moment they stepped inside, the blue glow wrapped around them, soft and otherworldly. The cube pulsed on its pedestal, the light reflecting across his face, catching the edge of his jaw, the curve of his lips.
"It's more than security software," he began, stepping closer to the cube. "It adapts. Learns from human behavior. Not just logic — sentiment. It builds a pattern of emotional responses."
She took a slow step toward him. "You're saying… it can feel?"
His eyes flicked to hers. "Not feelings. The echoes of them. Enough to predict how someone might act. Enough to respond in ways that feel… human."
Her mission whispered in her mind: This is what you're here for. Make him trust you. Make him open the door.
She let her voice drop slightly, softer, warmer. "It's beautiful."
"It's dangerous," he replied, his tone dipping lower too.
Her lips curved. "So am I."
The air shifted. Not abruptly just enough for her to feel the pull.
She moved closer, her perfume drifting between them. Her fingers grazed the edge of the pedestal, then slid just close enough to brush the fabric of his sleeve.
His jaw tightened.
Her eyes didn't leave his. "If Lucent reacts to sentiment… maybe it needs a stronger test."
She could see the war in his eyes the pull against his own restraint. He didn't move when her fingers lightly traced the inside of his wrist, the slow drag sending heat up her own arm.
His hand came to her waist, the grip firm but hesitant, like he wasn't sure if he'd decided to do it or if she'd made the decision for him.
They were close enough now that her breath mingled with his.
Her heart pounded, but her control stayed sharp. She tilted her head slightly, allowing her lips to hover just around his.
Then his control broke.
The kiss was sudden, no warning, no soft lead-in. It was heat and pressure, the clash of two people both pretending they didn't want this
She matched him, leaning into the urgency, her hands sliding up into his hair. His grip tightened, pulling her closer until their bodies met fully.
The Lucent cube pulsed faster, as if the machine itself was reacting to them.
Her mind split in two part of her sinking into the way his mouth moved against hers, part of her memorizing every detail of his proximity, his voice, his access.
The heat built fast. His breath deepened. She felt the shift in his posture the exact moment his restraint was almost gone.
And that was when she stopped.
Pulling back, she smoothed her skirt, her breathing steady even though her pulse was still racing. "I should get back to my desk."
His expression didn't change, but there was a tension in his jaw now. He didn't speak as they left the Lucent room.
Back at her desk, her phone buzzed.
BLACK SWAN:
You're on schedule. Don't let him take the lead. He's the type to pull away first.
Another message followed:
Tomorrow, you'll touch the outer shell of Lucent. The root key comes after. Don't fail.
The next day, Kieran was colder than ice. No glances. No lingering words. Just clipped commands and silence.
Mei told herself it was good. Distance meant control.
But when the elevator doors closed that night and they were alone, the air between them tightened again. She didn't touch him — she didn't need to.
As the doors opened, his hand brushed hers. Just for a second. Enough to say this wasn't over.
Later, her phone buzzed again.
A video file.
Aiden's hospital bed. The oxygen monitor flashing. A shadowed hand adjusting something on the machine. The numbers dropped once, twice.
Then the video cut.
BLACK SWAN:
We decide how long he breathes. Don't forget it.