"What's going on?" Riven asked as he and Eli stepped into the Nexus Tower. They hadn't even passed the main doors, yet already a crowd of employees had gathered in the lobby, whispering and craning their necks as though an idol had appeared in their midst.
Eli didn't answer. He only gave a small shrug, though Nyxen, beneath the mask, felt irritation spike through him. His employees looked like starstruck teenagers, and he couldn't fathom what ridiculous spectacle was holding their attention.
Together, he and Riven pushed through the entrance—only to freeze as the reason for the commotion revealed himself.
The young man stood at the center of it all.
Tall, broad-shouldered, his black hair tousled in a way that seemed both unruly and deliberate, like shadows flickering around a flame. His skin was pale, almost luminous, the sharp lines of his face carved with striking precision. The contrast of fair complexion against dark hair gave him the kind of presence that pulled every eye in the room.
His jacket—an elegant gradient of midnight blue fading to black—hung open at the chest, sleek and modern, just provocative enough to hint at confidence without arrogance. Around his neck rested a silver crescent moon pendant, subtle but intimate, an emblem of secrets and cycles. His eyes, cool gray-blue with hints of silver, reflected the pendant's glow like moonlight skimming water. They weren't just beautiful—they were unsettling, quiet, and deep, as though holding tides beneath their surface.
He moved forward with a smile, the lobby turning into his runway. Employees parted instinctively, their chatter falling to a hush.
Nyxen's brow furrowed. Of all people, this was the last man he expected to appear here, in his building. What storm had carried him into Nexus Tower?
The stranger stopped before them. His smile lingered, deliberate, almost intimate.
"Hi," he said smoothly. "I've been waiting for you."
Riven blinked, startled, and glanced behind him just to make sure the man was speaking to him. But the stranger's eyes never wavered, locked only on him.
"I'm talking to you, CEO Riven Virellian."
The man spoke with a laugh, clearly amused by Riven's reaction.
"You might not remember me. But I was one of the guests during Nexus's anniversary—Thalor Veyne, Controller of Helix Corp."
He extended his hand toward Riven. The CEO hesitated for a brief moment before accepting it. Behind him, Nyxen—currently disguised as Eli—watched the handshake with narrowed eyes. If he weren't pretending to be someone else, he would never have allowed that stranger to touch Riven.
This crazy bastard, Nyxen thought darkly.
Then Thalor released a wave of pheromones. The air thickened instantly. Riven flinched, pulling his hand away and stepping back.
A targeted, oppressive pheromone.
Nyxen's eyes snapped to the man. He recognized that scent. So you're the bastard who caused chaos during the Nexus anniversary. The audacity to show up here—and release that filthy pheromone.
"Is that how you introduce yourself now, Mr. Veyne? Rein in your pheromones. There are Omegas around," Riven said, recovering his composure. The scent was familiar—the same one that had triggered panic at the Nexus event.
"You're not affected?" Thalor smirked. "Just as I expected from a Virellian. An S-Class Alpha indeed."
"Did you come here just to flaunt your pheromones?" Riven asked sharply. He wasn't truly affected; he knew Thalor was an Alpha like him—most likely another S-Class. The only reason he'd reacted during that past incident was because of the Omegas' pheromones. As an unbonded Alpha, he was naturally more sensitive to them.
"Mr. Veyne, you just said I'm an S-Class—"
Riven's words cut off as the air grew heavier. Thalor had intensified his release—a targeted luring pheromone. Even as an S-Class, Riven felt it press against him, pulling at something primal inside. He stepped back instinctively. Fortunately, Eli was right behind him, steady and unaffected.
"D-don't you think it's rude to spread your pheromones like that?" Eli said calmly, meeting Thalor's gaze.
"And who might you be?" Thalor turned to him, eyes glinting with disdain. "A Beta? Do you really think you can challenge me?"
Eli's voice remained even. "Maybe not. But still—stop using your pheromones. It's unprofessional. You're frightening the employees. An alpha shouldn't behave this way."
Nyxen forced himself to stay composed, though his hands itched to strike. Now he had a face to match the man he'd been hunting—and an enemy in business as well. What he couldn't yet understand was why Thalor seemed so fixated on Riven.
"I don't intend to scare anyone," Thalor replied, his tone almost casual. "I only want to speak with the CEO of Nexus."
"Then rein in your pheromones, Mr. Veyne, and we can talk," Riven said firmly, meeting his gaze. Even as he said it, his Alpha instincts flared—he was not affected, not dominated, only caught off guard by the sudden, targeted release earlier.
"Sure," Thalor replied, and slowly, the oppressive aura in the room began to fade.
"Let's talk in my office," Riven said, stepping forward. But he stopped when Eli's hand caught his wrist, holding him back. Riven turned, surprised.
"It's okay," Eli said quietly, then released him.
"This way," Riven said, leading Thalor toward the elevator. Thalor followed with a knowing smile.
Eli's unease deepened. From the very first moment, this man had asserted dominance through pheromones—an Alpha's silent challenge. And Eli would never forget the havoc this same man had caused during the Nexus anniversary.
"Seren," Eli whispered.
"Yes, Emperor," replied a voice in his ear—Nexus's AI system, linked directly through his neural device.
"Did you capture that man's pheromone signature?"
"Affirmative, Emperor."
"I need a full classification. Register his scent in our database. Activate advanced-level suppression."
"Pheromone signature registered. Advanced suppression engaged."
"Good," Eli muttered, stepping into the elevator.