"After that mess with their security system last week—during a global summit, no less—and now they're opening Nexus to the public?" Rowen muttered, leaning back in his chair, fingers drumming against the desk.
His office at Veltrix Dynamics was all glass and steel, sharp lines and colder intentions. Even the air felt engineered—sterile, laced with Alpha-coded pheromones that kept everyone else just a little off balance.
Veltrix wasn't built to soothe. It was built to dominate.
"Nexus executives must be losing it," he added, voice low, almost amused. "What exactly are they trying to prove?"
His secretary shifted, tablet in hand. "Mr. Virellian, they've appointed a new CEO. And it looks like they're planning to—"
Rowen's head snapped toward her. "CEO?"
For the first time, his rhythm broke. Nexus had thrived in shadow for years—faceless, untouchable. A phantom reputation of myth and innovation.
"The statement after the breach," the secretary said carefully, eyes flicking down. "It came directly from the CEO. Personal. Direct. It's… gotten attention."
Rowen rose, pacing to the window. The skyline glared back at him—his empire, his legacy. Yet something about this new move from Nexus made his pulse tick faster.
"After all these years," he murmured, "they finally decide to show their hand?" His jaw tightened. "One speech doesn't make them trustworthy."
The secretary hesitated, weight shifting, as if caught between duty and nerves. "It seems they want to prove why they're still leading in cyber defense. To turn the breach into…"
"A redemption arc," Rowen snapped. He pressed a palm flat against the glass.
But his irritation was fraying. Beneath it, something flickered. Curiosity. Challenge. A pull he couldn't ignore.
Whoever this CEO was… they hadn't just survived the breach. They had weaponized it.
Rowen's fingers curled against the window.
Bold. Reckless. Dangerous.
Exactly the kind of opponent he wanted.
"They're trying to prove they're untouchable," a voice said, cool and edged with something keener than mockery.
Rowen lifted his eyes from the desk, the faintest narrowing. "Robin," he said, name slipping out like a sigh that carried warning.
His younger brother stepped inside—same Alpha blood, same legacy, but his energy was rawer, less polished. Robin moved like he wasn't afraid to break things. Or people.
Rowen flicked his hand toward the secretary. "Go. Prep for Nexus's open exhibition. I want us there."
The secretary hesitated at Robin's presence but nodded quickly. "Yes, sir." A stiff bow, and the man was gone.
Silence lingered between the brothers. Then Robin leaned against the glass wall, arms crossed, eyes gleaming. "Didn't expect to catch you drinking alone before noon."
Rowen rose, slow and deliberate, and poured two glasses of wine. "I wasn't drinking," he said smoothly. "I was savoring." He handed one over. Robin took it, but didn't sip.
"One of your engineers told me the breach was triggered by an old Nexus protocol," Robin said, voice flat. "And half that team is on your payroll now. If Nexus connects the dots—"
Rowen's laugh was quiet, humorless. "If they wanted to pin this on me, they'd have done it the second they went public. Instead, they claimed it. They bled in front of the world. Which tells me one thing."
He sipped, then let the silence sharpen the air. "Their system isn't as bulletproof as they pretend."
Robin tilted his head. "Maybe. But three years later, you still haven't beaten them. Even with their people working for you."
That drew a flicker. Rowen's jaw clenched, then smoothed into a thin smile. "But I haven't fallen behind. And unlike them, I don't need sentiment to sell brilliance."
Robin gave a short laugh, no warmth in it. "That's where you're blind, brother. You think emotion's weakness. But it makes people dangerous. And Nexus just crowned someone who knows exactly how to wield it."
Rowen's grip tightened on his glass—so tight the crystal creaked. For a heartbeat, his composure cracked, a spark of something harsher flashing across his face. Then it was gone, replaced with the same cold smile.
Robin watched him, shaking his head with a faint sigh. He knew that look too well. Rowen didn't forgive being outmaneuvered. Not five years ago. Not now. Not ever.
Nexus had come out of nowhere. Within a month, it crushed Paragon Technologies—the Virellian crown jewel. Operations shuttered. Clients defected overnight. And Nexus rose from the wreckage, burning across the industry like wildfire.
In two years, it wasn't just dominant. It was untouchable—the global name in cybersecurity.
And Rowen? He'd been handed Paragon's throne the moment Riven was exiled.
He had smiled through it. Gripped it like a prize. Because no matter how powerful Riven had been—S-Class Alpha, heir apparent—he was still, in Rowen's eyes, the son of a dirty Omega.
Exile had opened the door. Rowen walked through it proud, young, hungry to prove he could outshine the brother their family had cast out.
But then Nexus happened. And everything Rowen built turned to ash.
For two years, he dissected the company that humiliated him. He poached their engineers. Bought out their developers. Built Veltrix from the rubble.
Not to innovate. To destroy.
Robin sat across from him, wine glass untouched, eyes sharp.
"You've been chasing ghosts," he said softly, each word deliberate.
Rowen didn't answer. He stood at the window, jaw flexing, fingers white against the glass.
"Any news on Riven?" Robin asked, voice low but cutting.
Rowen turned, eyes narrowing at the name. Even after all this time, it still landed like a bruise.
"Nothing," he said. "Five years. Not a trace."
After the scandal—after the pregnancy—Riven had vanished. The family had condemned him, demanded he terminate. A disgrace, they'd called him. An S-Class Alpha, pregnant like some gutter Omega? Unthinkable.
They buried him in shame. And he disappeared.
Not even Veltrix's surveillance could find him.
"He just… vanished," Robin murmured.
Rowen's grip tightened around his glass until it nearly cracked. "He ran."
"Or maybe," Robin said, holding his gaze, "he rebuilt."
Rowen didn't reply. But something flickered in his eyes—a memory, a scent, a storm he thought he'd buried.
And for the first time in years, Robin saw it clearly: his brother wasn't just chasing ghosts. He was waiting for one to come back.