Anita_Major_7954

She came to shut it down.
He came to never let it happen.

Alyssa Mervaux, ethical investigator. Precise, tough, relentless. Not afraid to take down the powerful.
Her next target: Velarion Biotech.

Officially, Velarion offers next-generation cognitive therapy for wealthy, influential patients suffering from post-traumatic disorders.
But something is off. The clinic is too perfect.

The company’s CEO, Aslan Vardem, is not just brilliant. He’s unpredictable.
He doesn’t attack. He doesn’t defend. He plays.
And once you look into his eyes, you no longer know who’s in control.

As Alyssa digs deeper, the questions multiply.
The answers don’t fit.
And desire begins to awaken in the shadow of the biggest lie.

Velarion doesn’t heal.
It rewrites.
And maybe not just the patients.

One thing is certain: someone, somewhere is playing a game.
It may not be Aslan.
But if it is, he’s the best player of all.

The Edge Of The Mind

The black folder was still under my fingers. I could feel the cool, embossed gold letters.

I was fed up with waiting; this kind of reception wasn't a sign they were glad to see me — but that's not why I was here anyway.

I adjusted my jacket, grabbed my notes, and started walking.

My heels clicked rhythmically on the floor. The building was silent, but not in a good way. More like a hospital ward where someone's holding their breath.

I stopped by the coffee machine, but didn't feel like drinking. I pressed the button out of routine, as if the scent could fix something inside me that had long since slipped out of balance. This place gave me chills.

– Irem? – I called out to the woman at the reception desk.

– Yes? – she answered, a bit confused.

– I haven't met the CEO yet, even though it's been an hour. They haven't told me anything about the orientation. I don't know exactly what they expect from me – I said, looking her straight in the eye. – But please, show me around the building. I don't want to waste the day.

I deliberately glanced at my watch.

Irem hesitated. She seemed like someone looking for permission in her mind, but not getting a clear answer.

– Usually… there's a meeting first… with the CEO… the usual… – she started.

– The 'usual' doesn't apply to me – I cut in quietly but firmly. – Show me.

We started walking. Cool lights ran along the ceilings of the corridors. Every step echoed. The place worked too well. Too organized. And I knew exactly this wasn't about order — it was about control.

Just past the next corner, a sudden noise hit my ears. A woman's voice. Shouting, crying. The tension hidden in the noise cut through me like a cold blade.

As we got closer, I saw the source. A middle-aged woman, her coat crumpled under her arm, tear-streaked face, trembling body. Two doctors were trying to hold her down. Her eyes desperately scanned the room, as if searching for an escape. When she looked at me, her gaze froze for a moment.

She didn't say it aloud, but her eyes screamed it.

– What's going on here? – I stepped closer.

One of the men, maybe a doctor or a nurse, tried to stay calm:

– The patient is confused, she must be taken back to the ward immediately.

– Confused? – I looked at the woman, then back at them. – More like desperate. Is she alright?

The woman nodded with a trembling voice:

– I just… need fresh air… please…

– Irem – I turned to the assistant – open the windows. Now.

– We… can't here – she replied tensely. – The windows don't open. Security protocol.

– So this whole place is a glass cage? Why have windows at all? God… – I asked sharply.

– There's an inner courtyard – Irem finally muttered. – In the east wing. We can take her there.

The Glass Cage