The building didn't have a name.
Just a mirrored facade that reflected the skyline like it was hiding something behind it.
The kind of place you could drive past a hundred times and never know what was inside.
Sera sat in the back of the car, eyes on the building's reflection. One hand rested lightly on her bag. The other held her phone to her ear.
"I'm done with the board review," she said.
"Inform my father all deliverables have been submitted."
A short pause.
"Yes. I'll be unavailable for the next few hours. Personal time."
She ended the call. Slipped the phone back into her coat. Then opened the door.
She stepped out without waiting for the valet.
Her heels clicked once on the stone, then went silent as she walked toward the entrance. Black glass doors opened without sound.
Inside, the air was colder. Cleaner.
The lobby looked more like a gallery than a business. Polished floors. Empty walls. A long, curved reception desk manned by a woman who didn't look up when Sera entered—just tapped something once on her console.
"Miss Shaw," the woman said. "You're expected."
Sera didn't respond.
A soft line of light blinked to life beneath her feet, guiding her across the marble.
She followed it.
The hall was long, quiet, and too perfect. Pale panels. Seamless doors. No signs. No sounds but her own breathing.
She stopped outside Room Seven.
The door opened before she touched it.
Inside: warm lights. Soft chairs. A table with nothing on it.
No branding. No screens. Almost empty. Except for another man in a suit who stood as she entered.
He didn't offer a handshake. Just a nod.
"Miss Shaw," he said.
She sat without being asked.
The door slid shut behind her.
She crossed one leg over the other.
Smoothed the sleeve of her coat. Her fingertips immaculate.
He picked up a tablet. "Let's begin."
_______________________________________
The man tapped once on the tablet. A faint chime sounded.
"Your session parameters were flagged for manual review," he said.
Sera didn't flinch. "And?"
"No issues. We've cleared it for customization."
He swiped the screen again. "Do you consent to proceed with the script submission under the 'Destructive Romance' bracket?"
"I do."
"To clarify, this includes emotional volatility, power imbalance, possessive dynamics, verbal aggression, physical force, and sexual domination. Do you have additional requirements?"
"Yes."
Her tone stayed flat.
"I want escalation. Gradual build. Repetition."
He nodded. "To what threshold?"
Sera met his eyes. "As far as he's allowed to take it."
The handler made no comment. Just continued.
"Actor traits?"
"Cold. Brilliant. Controlling. Possessive.
Athletic. Unpredictable in the right ways."
"Emotional detachment or manipulation?"
"Both."
"Consent structure?"
"Layered. I'll signal if it's too far. He doesn't stop unless I say the safeword."
He nodded once.
"What safeword would you like to register?"
"Mother."
The word sat between them for a moment.
The handler entered it without comment.
Then tapped again, and the table between them lit up.
A thin screen lit up on the surface in front of them, revealing a rotating carousel of profiles.
"Each of our neural-linked actors has been cleared for full emotional simulations. You may review their stats and visuals here."
Sera leaned forward slightly. The display responded to her gaze, scrolling through the lineup one by one.
Attractive. Sharp. Customizable.
Each profile included height, weight, health markers, psychological conditioning, voice samples.
One line below each photo caught her attention: IQ percentile.
She raised a brow, slightly amused. "You test their intelligence?"
The handler gave a short nod. "A newly implemented benchmark. Emotional simulations require adaptability. Higher IQ scores allow more fluid response within scripted unpredictability."
She swiped again. Another. Then stopped.
One profile lingered.
Tall. Lean-muscular frame. Mid twenties.
Eyes dark. Gaze direct. Expression unreadable.
Name: Ryden K.
IQ: 99th percentile
"How many of your actors are in the 99th percentile for IQ?" Sera asked.
"Only one." The handler replied. Almost proudly.
Intrigued, she read on.
Emotional Responsiveness Index: High
Profile Completion: Partial
Age: 25
Background Records: 19 to 24 years Unavailable – Wiped
Sera narrowed her eyes. "Why is his history blank?"
The handler's tone didn't shift. "He entered the program through an alternate onboarding process. Non-civilian contract."
She looked at him. "That's vague."
He didn't elaborate.
"Is he unstable?"
"No," the man said. "He's highly effective. Performance reviews indicate consistent satisfaction across all emotional brackets."
Sera stared at the profile a moment longer.
Then leaned back. "I'll take him."
"Noted," the handler replied. "He is our highest tier talent…"
"I'll take him." Sera repeated without missing a beat.
"Excellent." The handler nodded.
He tapped once more. The screen vanished.
"The contract will be sent to your personal device. Please confirm within the hour."
She stood. Smoothed the front of her coat.
The door slid open.
"Welcome to Dream, Inc.," he said.
She walked out without responding.