CHAPTER ONE

HARKER "KERR" LEX

Tenebrae Apartment Complex, Northern District of Angeles City - Monday, May 5th, Year 23XX

Harker Lex could get used to many things in life, she was an adaptable individual with many talents. She had tolerated more than others her age would ever be able to but lateness had always rubbed her the wrong way. She hated arriving at an appointment behind time and hated, even more, when others did it to her, so it was no wonder that her mood was already foul when Valentine Schreave finally appeared from the depths of his room.

The Schreave heir was not the image most citizens of Angeles City had of the powerful Schreaves. The shaggy blonde-gray hair, the bright red eyes, and freckles made him look much more like a beggar than a rich corporate heir, even more so when he made his way to Harker while stumbling, chest bare and trousers barely hanging to his hips. It didn't take a genius to understand that Valentine had, once again, gone on another one of his 'adventures' — ones that were becoming too commonplace for Harker's comfort and sanity. Had she known that she'd turn into a glorified nanny, Harker would've never accepted the position of secretary to such a train wreck of a man. It seemed that in the last two years she had cleaned up more vomit and seen more nude bodies than most did in a lifetime. It truly amazed her that Valentine continued to be able to wake up every day with intact memory and body.

It amazed her that he hadn't flatlined in the years before her employment since she knew the previous secretary had been rather lax with the Schreave heir's security.

"Morning, Kerr," said Valentine as he got closer, his mouth half-open in a yawn, right hand messing his already unkempt hair.

"You are late… Sir," she was sure that the reluctant tone wasn't lost to Valentine, but it mattered little. Harker was never one to make her dislike for the blonde a secret, "I see you had an eventful night," she said, glancing to the doors behind Valentine, where a pink-haired stranger tried to escape notice by tiptoeing out of the room, "Should I send your companion some breakfast?"

Valentine barely glanced at the person he had brought home, shrugging his shoulders, "Do whatever."

Harker didn't know why she still asked, the answer was always the same. Men or women, Valentine was never one to keep partners for more than a night, a fact that Kerr wished she was less than familiar with. For each person, Valentine spent a night with, one more heart Kerr had to break on his behalf — now, breaking hearts had never been a problem for her, but she had been accustomed to other methods for that. And with each heartbroken, she had to work around the clock to keep any gossip from leaking to the hungry hyenas of the press, something directly linked to Valentine's favorite victim types. Corporate, pompous, and spiteful. For a snobbish, privileged prick, Valentine seemed to delight in humiliating his own kind.

Kerr didn't wait for Valentine to enter the bathroom at the end of the hallway, making her way directly to the individual by the golden bedroom doors. It was a woman this time — a transitioning one, but a woman nonetheless —, her pink hair fluffed up because of the activities of the night before. She was tall, taller than Kerr would ever be, with an attractive angular face and her eyes were, clearly, the real thing, something that was rare these days. Green, a color that popped when put in contrast to the tan skin the woman sported. Unlike Valentine, the pink-haired stranger was dressed, or as dressed as one could be with the tattered silver dress; it had seen better days if the fine stitching that was still hung by a thread on the front of it had any story to tell. Heels in hand, purse under her arm… Harker almost sighed in relief the woman knew what routine was coming her way.

"I just need a lift to East Oaks Lux," she said, cheeks reddening with each 'tic tac' of Kerr's stilettos.

"I'll have a car ready for you in five, madam. Would you like the driver to stop by a diner?" The woman's eyes widening, obviously not expecting the polite tone nor the offer for food. Harker had made it a habit to offer some sort of supplements to Valentine's flings; politeness could get one far in the corporate world and the pink-haired woman had some sort of standing if her place of living was anything to go by.

"I… Yes, I would like that."

Kerr nodded, bits of data occupying her vision as a message was sent out to the driver, requesting he accompany their guest to the car and that food be acquired on the way of delivery. With that done, she turned and left the stranger.

It didn't take long to pass by the end of the hallway, taking the stairs down to the penthouse's first floor. Like most things related to Valentine, Harker could only categorize the place as outlandish; Valentine had gone out of his way to fill his home with the most alternative pieces of furniture and tech, not caring for any rules of decoration (or a designer's opinion). Harker hated the place, hated the dark walls and gold accents, hated the red carpets and long sofas, hated the ridiculous amount of colorful and futile things that Valentine had collected over the years. There wasn't any explanation for his obsession with the old music players, television sets, and whatever other pieces. None of them were functional and served only to show how much money the Schreaves had since all the items would've fetched a high price in any auction around Central Bay.

She couldn't help her distaste for the place, Harker had much more simple tastes and the displays around the first floor of the heir's home were an eyesore. She was thankful that she didn't have to look around for long before a message warning appeared through her cyber optics.

You are late. - K1

Harker tried not to roll her eyes at the message. She knew she was late, she had half a mind to drag Valentine from the shower, nude as the day he was born, and just shove him into the car. Maybe attending an important meeting in his birthday suit would teach him something, maybe someone would have pity on her and grant a much-needed vacation.

Whose fault do you think that is? - K2

She didn't receive a response, knowing well that her meaning was thoroughly conveyed who the real culprit was.

She didn't mean Valentine Schreave.

Had her brother listened to her pleas the night before, Valentine would've been woken up bright and early, eager to see Harker's blue-haired sibling. Ambrose "Kirk" Lex, was very much an unattainable desire of Valentine's and Harker used that when she could. Why put herself through hours of waiting and scolding from her higher-ups if her brother could make the Schreave heir jump from his bed at any time of the day? She wondered why she was the one stuck as the nanny.

"Talking to your clone?" Valentine's smooth and low voice snapped her out of her thoughts, his reference to Kirk making her glare at him with narrowed violet eyes.

"If you have finished stalling, the driver is already waiting," said Harker, choosing to not respond to the previous comment, "Your appointments today are already falling behind schedule."

They made their way to the main doors of the penthouse, getting into the elevator and quickly making their way to the garage. Harker had not looked at Valentine since he joined her but she could almost feel the irritating smirk that was surely plastered on his face. He knew her well, knew when she was in a temper, knew the best way to get her there. And he enjoyed it.

Maybe it was his way of getting revenge on her for not falling for his cheap charm.

Illéa Corporation's Angeles HQ, Central District of Angeles City - Monday, May 5th, Year 23XX

Ripping out her eye implants with her nails would've been less painful than hearing Valentine's ridiculous attempts to flirt with her brother.

While Harker was not above using her blue-haired twin as a bargaining chip to get the Schreave up and running, it was always an inconvenience to hear his horrible pick-up lines and compliments about someone Harker was, in a way, identical to. While Kirk was much taller than her, with visible muscles under his black and silver uniform, it would be difficult to miss the resemblance between them. They had shared the same eye color before the implants and had chosen to keep matching, both sporting vivid violet eyes instead of their natural brown ones. Both had sharp features, with the same cat-like shape for their eyes and upturned lips. Even the silver linings running through their bodies corresponded, identical to one another.

Had she been a man and more patient, she'd probably find herself on the receiving end of Valentine's amorous ways more than she was comfortable with.

"I wish I was cross-eyed so I could see you twice."

Could it get any worse? Harker had heard every single one of those lines, ten times over. Valentine didn't hold the most active imagination, he was lucky to have the looks he did if everyone he approached had to hear the nonsense he spouted.

Harker stole small glances at her brother. To Kirk's credit, his expression revealed nothing, his eyes focused on the elevator doors, his posture stiff while his hands were positioned on the front of his body — 'the waiting' position, as Harker called it, a must for every bodyguard. Kirk seemed to be unbothered by Valentine's small comments, had Kerr not being his twin she would have thought the same but the slight crease in between his eyebrows gave everything away. Her brother had many small tells, microexpressions that made it easy for her to read him because she was the same.

"Your first meeting is with Mr. Butler. It seems that Miss Elgard is willing to settle the lawsuit for property damage," started Kerr, the schedule appearing in her camp of vision, "After that, the manager for the Platinum unit of MedBay is coming to make your daily check-up, given last night's…" Debauchery, "Activities."

The elevator opened on the 50th floor of the main tower of the Illéa Corporation headquarters. It wasn't the topmost floor of the tower, it couldn't even be considered a floor of grand importance if you didn't work for Illéa Corp — Harker thought it a smart move, having the most important offices in such a random floor while decoy offices were put up ten floors above made for good security. Going down the main corridors of the floor, Valentine finally went quiet, having given up on getting a reaction out of Kirk for the moment and Harker couldn't have been more thankful.

Opening the door to Valentine's office was much like opening the door of his penthouse. Thankfully, the illumination of the room made up for the garish decoration, sometimes even giving the illusion of it being a pleasant ambient. The sofas were bright red, contrasting tragically with the three yellow walls of the office. The floor-to-ceiling windows behind the metal desk were the only saving grace Harker's eyes had when she was in the room. For all Valentine's money, for all his connections, he liked doing things by himself and the results were, usually, unsatisfactory (to Kerr's eyes). While she and Valentine entered the office, Kirk continued down the hall, in the direction of the last door.

Tell me when the time comes. - K2

The response came soon.

Be done by six. - K1

With her brother's confirmation, Harker turned her attention to Valentine, who was already making himself comfortable on one of the sofas, feet going to the center table — a complete disregard to etiquette, another trait of Harker's employer that drove her to insanity. While Valentine found the best position on the sofa, Harker sat opposite to him and let data flood her field of vision for a few seconds. There were few things that Harker did every time she was on the 50th floor, the checking of all technological apparatus and networking being the most important. The cameras had to always be turned on, focused, and with no blindspots, the security was to be in tight lockdown from the moment someone stepped out of the elevator and the personnel from all ten floors above and below the 50th had to have identity checks in regular intervals. Harker knew she did a little too much, but that was the unspoken agreement between Kerr and Valentine: for all his rebellious bravado, nightly escapes, and unplanned adventures, he was just as afraid of dying in an alley of Angeles City as any other person. Maybe, even more, considering who he was.

By the time the first meeting started, Harker had already checked all her required boxes. The meeting with Mr. Butler was quick and to the point, Valentine let Harker deal with most of the documentation on the property damage lawsuit — a byproduct of his parties — and the lawyer was dispatched with no more ceremonies. The following steps of the day were much the same as every day before. For all the excitement that Valentine Schreave had during the night, his mornings were a carefully crafted routine.

"Will your brother ever take me on those drink offers?" Valentine suddenly asked, seemingly bored with the document on his tablet.

When pigs fly, "My brother is a very busy man, but if he finds the time, I'm sure he would accept the invitation."

"The way you give me hope almost turns me on," joked Valentine, throwing his tablet aside to stand up, "What other boring meetings do you have for me?"

"No meetings until six. But Mr. Lowell from Counterintelligence has sent the reports to be reviewed. And the owner of Nyx House called, she wanted to confirm if you are still interested in holding your birthday there."

"Tell Sandra that I'll call her back," started Valentine, "And send me copies of Lowell's documents… Also, ask him to do another stack for next month."

Harker wanted to ask what Lowell from Counterintelligence had done, but Valentine never needed a reason to single out someone. It wasn't the first time he made strange requests to random employees — in the same way, Harker did background checks, Valentine tested skills. The fact that he liked games of any type was well-known around the Corporation, his strange requests were famous in every department and the number of people fired for failing his expectations was not low. Kerr could appreciate that type of humor, the dark and malicious one; it was the one reason she stuck with Valentine.

In the end, Valentine Schreave was just another one of them.

Illéa Corporation's Angeles HQ, 50th Floor, Central District of Angeles City - Monday, May 5th, Year 23XX

The last meeting of the day was always the most difficult and Harker dreaded it every time. The last was when Valentine was the most fed up, irritated and unwilling, itching to crawl out of the HQs and back to his penthouse or some back alley bar. Maybe it was the allure of the moon, that "pull" that so many poets mention when talking about the satellite — Valentine would be dramatic enough to use that as a reason for his slacking after night fell.

"Do I have to?" His tone indicated displeasure and Harker was sure that, if she turned to look at him, his thin lips would be forming a childish pout. "I'm sure the old man can do whatever it is without my input."

"I'm afraid he specified that your presence is mandatory," said Harker.

"When the fuck is my presence not mandatory? I swear he makes our appointments at six on purpose."

Valentine wasn't wrong about that. Alaric Schreave took pleasure in very few things and spoiling his grandson's plans was one such pleasure. Harker never tried to understand why, Kirk had once said that it was his way of trying to "discipline" the blonde-haired heir but she didn't see it — after all, Valentine just ended up at the bottom of a bottle anyways (or with a new bedmate). No, Harker would never understand, she'd just keep doing the schedule and enduring the five-minute rants that her charge went on as they approached the last door of the main corridor on the 50th floor.

For God's sake, open the door. - K2

Fortunately, it was only five minutes of enduring before Kirk had the door wide open for them.

Unlike the disaster of colors Valentine had, the office of Alaric Schreave was austere, monochromatic, and minimalistic. Both the walls and floor were covered by a grey, marble-like material, blending well with the black and white furniture that occupied the room. Mr. Schreave's desk occupied the center of the room and, like Valentine's office, there was a roll of floor-to-ceiling windows behind it — making it so that Alaric's silhouette became prominent against the city lights. The only piece of decoration that demanded attention was a painting on the right wall of the room: framed in gold, it showed a representation of the Schreave family, with Alaric sitting in the middle. Valentine was young in the painting, standing to the left of his grandfather; that version of him still had the same blonde-grey hair and freckles, but his eyes were still natural-looking and the lack of eye make-up almost made young Valentine look like someone else.

Just behind Alaric stood a couple. Valentine's parents. Harker had never heard much of them.

"Have a seat."

"I'm good, grandfather, how about you? Have a nice day? I'm sure you did and no, I did not break into any bars last night," started Valentine, making no ceremonies as he sat in the chair facing his grandfather.

Harker watched from behind Valentine, not turning when she felt her brother brushing past her to take position next to Alaric. Meetings between the two Schreaves were never a joy, Kerr has seen more arguments between the duo than civil conversations. Alaric was not one to take on disrespect while Valentine wasn't one to give it and that dynamic was the perfect recipe for shouting matches. It was like watching a scene from an old soap opera, different generations squaring up against one another.

Harker had never had that. She and Kirk never fought, they never argued, they barely disagreed. They were partners, always in sync, acting as a unit.

"As you well know," started Alaric, ignoring Valentine's remarks, "Our corporation's anniversary is coming up and, as such, yours is too. I am well aware that you have plans to rent out the Nyx House but those have been put on hold… Permanently."

The silence was deafening, there was no other way for Harker to explain it. Had her auditory implants not been the best, she would have sworn that Valentine had stopped breathing for a moment. She knew he must be surprised. In the almost 30 years of his life, Valentine never had Alaric directly interfere with plans he had already put in motion — the man admonished, showed disappointment, and cursed but he had never put a stop to anything that his grandson did. The meetings at six, right before Valentine's time to go home, were the most "interrupting" that Alaric ever did. Harker had to wonder if it was that kind of freedom that made Valentine as inconsequential as he was.

"Why?" Was the only response the youngest Schreave had, the word coming out in disbelief.

"It will be the 250th birthday of Illéa Corporation. I have expectations for that, both of us should have."

"The commemorations for the Corp has never been a problem for me to have my parties."

"I plan to announce your succession."

There was another pause. More silence. Harker looked to her brother, who had also searched for her eyes. They had been aware of what was coming but it made it all the more real when Alaric Schreave said it out loud. While Valentine was always expected to inherit Illéa Corp., there had never been a defined date. Alaric was as healthy as ever, or he seemed to be, so there was never much urgency to arrange for the official announcement of Valentine as the heir. For all that the blonde-haired man knew, he would only assume power when his grandfather passed and, as Valentine had said many times, 'grandfather seems to escape death more than a cockroach'.

Even Harker and Kirk had thought that Alaric would only pass the mantle to his grandson after lying down on his coffin. That impression of theirs had also been rectified only recently.

"What the fuck? You are retiring?!"

Hello everyone! So, here is Chapter 1! (I mean, the actual chapter one, where you get to meet people and stuff) I'd like to thank all my Discord people for the support and for keeping me hyped, I'm really anxious to see what you all will think of my children.

I'd also like to point out that English is not my first language and, while I do have a beta (the lovely and amazing Logan), there may be things that we missed. So, please, if you see grammatical errors don't be shy and point them to me! That way I can also grow as a writer too.

The form is already up on my profile, as is a bunch of information for the world the story takes place in. If you have any questions, feel free to contact me and I will respond as soon as I am able.

Again, thank you for reading!

PS.: Due dates will come out together with chapter 3, so don't worry about it!