CHAPTER : SHADOW AND NAMES
The next morning, Juno stood outside the towering glass structure of Liora Groupe's Exhibition Suite, dressed in a fitted black shirt and jeans. He stared up at the polished signage like someone reading their fate. The air felt different here less chaotic, more intentional. He stepped inside.
The receptionist greeted him warmly, directing him to the upper floor. He was told someone from HR would give him a brief orientation. But when the elevator doors opened… she was already waiting.
She looked like a vision from a dream or a warning. Dark brown skin with silver-white eyes that shimmered like crystal under sunlight. Her hair was in long, elegant braids, tied back neatly. She wore a deep green pantsuit with gold embroidery at the cuffs, and heels that clicked with authority.
"You're early," she said coolly, glancing at her watch.
"And you're not HR," Juno replied.
"I'm not," she confirmed. "But I requested to handle your orientation. I'm Zeyna Roman."
That name.
"Roman?" Juno repeated, stiffening slightly.
She noticed the flicker in his expression and tilted her head. "That a problem?"
"Should it be?" he countered.
Zeyna smiled, faint and unreadable. "That depends. The Roman family is interested in many things. Including... anomalies."
She handed him a slim file. Inside were photos—one of them was 'him'. Or who he used to be. Long hair. Simpler face. Pre-resurrection.
"Let's get one thing clear," she said softly. "You might be hired here, but I know what you are. And I'm watching."
Juno chuckled under his breath, flipping the folder shut. "Good. It's been a while since someone tried to keep up."
Zeyna turned, walking ahead with practiced poise. "Try not to disappear mid-shift. You're not the only one with secrets, Juno."
Behind her back, he smirked. 'This is going to be interesting.'
Zeyna led Juno through polished marble corridors, each hallway whispering stories of legacy and wealth. Every wall bore portraits of the elite — heirs, CEOs, inventors, and game-changers. It wasn't just an exhibition suite; it was a shrine to influence.
She tapped on a holographic panel, and a large digital screen glowed to life. Names and faces flickered across the display like constellations.
"These are the top-tier investors and families we serve," Zeyna began, her voice steady and sharp. "The Voultranes _tech magnates. Delacroix Holdings _old money, with more political pull than the French Senate. Maison Arlette _fashion empire with deep media ties. And of course, the Roman Syndicate _my family."
Juno studied each profile carefully. There was power in their eyes, the kind that didn't ask twice. His gaze lingered on a particular woman icy-eyed with a glass of wine raised.
"Who's that?" he asked.
"Madame Elise Voultrane," Zeyna answered. "She doesn't like being told no."
Myles smirked. "Sounds like someone I could learn from."
Zeyna didn't react. She flicked the panel again, revealing a new screen: Employee Conduct & Building Protocols.
"No lateness. No gossip. No leaking internal affairs. Keep confidentiality like your life depends on it because it might. Absolutely no personal business with clients unless cleared through executive channels."
"And what happens if I break the rules?" he asked, half-teasing.
"You won't," Zeyna replied, deadly calm. "Because I'll make sure you don't."
She led him through the executive lounges, the underground vault showroom, and the sky garden every corner polished with opulence. As they entered a final room, she paused.
"One more thing," she added. "This job isn't just about work. It's a test."
"A test?"
"To see if you belong in their world… or if you're just another curiosity the wind dragged in."
Myles looked at the skyline from the glass wall ahead. "Then let's make it one hell of a test."
And Zeyna, for the first time, smiled.
Juno had barely settled into his new office a corner suite with floor-to-ceiling glass, a minimalist desk, and a view worth more than most people's yearly income when Zeyna's voice buzzed through the comm panel.
"Incoming: Elite-tier guest. You're to welcome him personally. His name is Kael Armande, heir to Armande Biotech."
Before Myles could ask questions, the elevator doors at the far end of the hall opened with a muted chime.
Out stepped Kael tall, flawlessly dressed in a tailored navy suit, hair slicked back with calculated ease, and the kind of confidence that came from being born into money. His piercing green eyes scanned the lobby like he owned it.
Juno stepped forward with a cool nod. "Welcome to the Suite, Mr. Armande. I'm Juno—"
Kael didn't slow his stride. "You're the one Zeyna vouched for, right? The 'mystery hire'?"
Juno smirked. "Mystery's good for business."
Kael turned with the trace of a smirk. "I like knowing exactly who I'm working with. Background checks. Family trees. Financial records. You've got none of those."
"Maybe you're not looking in the right places," Juno replied.
Kael paused. There was silence the kind that hummed with tension just beneath the surface..
"Fair enough," Kael said at last. "Let's see if you're worth the curiosity."
He handed Juno a tablet. "That's a proposal from Maison Arlette. They want Armande to front their next product line with an AI-driven biotech endorsement. I want you to filter through the contracts and tell me what they're hiding. You have two hours."
"No pressure?" Juno asked.
Kael raised an eyebrow. "Pressure separates the useful from the ornamental. Let's find out which you are."
Then he turned and vanished into the lounge, where champagne waited.
Juno stared at the tablet. Contracts. Loopholes. Power moves disguised as collaborations. He cracked his knuckles.
Let the game begin.
The corridors of the exhibition suite were wrapped in late-evening stillness. Most of the guests had retired, the music had dulled to a hum, and the air held that peculiar calm that follows grandeur.
The evening had quieted, the buzz of voices and clinking glasses fading into the velvet hush of twilight over Paris. Juno stood alone in one of the lesser-used corridors of the exhibition suite, waiting for Kael's contract to finish processing. Juno had always preferred these quiet hours. In them, the air felt less artificial, less burdened by conversation and status.
He wandered, more out of habit than purpose, fingers skimming the polished walls. Each wing of the building held its own personality curated and intentional but there was a stretch on the west end, dimly lit and oddly quiet, where modernity gave way to something older. It felt untouched. His eyes wandered, scanning the walls, until something peculiar caught his attention.
That was where he found the drawing.
It was hung at an awkward angle near a marble column. Forgotten. Dust had settled along its frame. Something about the way it was tucked into the shadow, uncelebrated, stirred curiosity in him. As he stepped closer, the hairs on the back of his neck stood.
It wasn't a painting.
It was an old 'sketch', framed in black glass and tucked into a corner where no one would usually notice a forgotten relic. The drawing depicted a swirling portal of stars and light, and standing at the center… a figure with glowing blue eyes.
Juno stepped closer.
Something in the lines. The way the ink curled into infinity. It was familiar. Deeply, hauntingly familiar.
Suddenly, a sharp jolt pierced his temple. He gasped, gripping the frame. His eyes flared with blazing blue light, momentarily lighting up the corridor.
The world around him shifted.
He stumbled back, breathing hard and saw through the wall. Not metaphorically.
Literally.
His gaze pierced the concrete and glass like it was mist. Beyond it, he saw two guests flirting near the wine rack. Further still, a manager sneaking a drink he wasn't allowed to touch. Juno blinked, startled and the vision faded, only to return stronger a second later.
A faint hum buzzed in his ear, and with a small tilt of his head, he could hear everything footsteps, whispers, phone calls in rooms far away. His senses had exploded.
Heart pounding, he staggered to the nearby mirror.
Blue eyes. Glowing. Bright, fierce… alive.
"No way," he muttered. "This... I thought I lost it all."
A memory flashed a much younger version of himself, battling against stronger foes he thought was all a dream. The powers that once coursed through him on his home world. The ones he believed had vanished when he crossed into Earth.
But they weren't gone.
They were asleep.
Until now.
This… was just the beginning.