The city was still wrapped in dawn's silver hush when Cassian Drakov opened his eyes.
Automated curtains slid aside at a silent command, revealing a skyline of glass and steel stretching endlessly below. At the center stood the Drakov Corporation Tower — a monument to ambition, authority, and the man who ruled it gazing with his cold eyes.
Cassian sat up.
He moved with the precision of a well-oiled machine. He took a cold shower wore a tailored black suit with polished shoes. Every detail is Perfect. He is embodiment of perfection and idealisation.
Alone at the top of food chain, he commanded the space. A top-class alpha —inevitable with the top most authority.
In the kitchen, a cup of black coffee awaited, prepared by his butler who is the only one allowed in his private area. No one can even dare to take a glance if they love their precious eyes of being gouge out.
A wall screen flickered to life, showing the morning news.
"Drakov Corporation reports record-breaking growth."
"CEO Cassian Drakov maintains his position as the youngest corporate leader in the country."
He glanced at the headlines, then dismissed them. Numbers and accolades meant nothing to him. He measured his own success differently — by control, by precision, by the fact that no one dare to compete with him.
Minutes later, the private elevator carried him down to the underground garage. A sleek black car waited. The driver bowed as Cassian entered.
The city stirred around them. Pedestrians paused when the car passed. Some recognized the insignia. Some simply felt the pull of authority, a quiet command they could not resist.
Whispers followed in his wake.
"That's him…"
"Drakov's CEO…"
"They say no one has ever seen him lose control… even though he is a class Alpha."
Cassian heard none of it. He was reading documents in his cars.
The car stopped before the Drakov Corporation Tower. Employees parted silently, heads lowered, as he strode toward the private elevator and up to the top floor.
The office awaited — with calm cold environment and blue sky outside the windows. Everything in its place. Every surface is immaculate.
Cassian Drakov settled behind his desk. The city spread below him, a chessboard of opportunities and challenges awaiting to lift his pawns to use them as he pleases.
The soft chime of the office line broke his morning silence.
"Sir," the familiar voice calm, precise, and professional.
It was Elena Voss, his secretary, personally trained by him over the past five years to anticipate every need, every requirement of his schedule.
"Elena," he acknowledged. "Yes?"
"Today is the banquet," she said evenly. "A formal event arranged by your close friend Rick Carlen, Sir. He insists on your presence tonight."
Cassian's gaze flicked to the calendar app on the screen.
He nodded once, frowning "Understood."
Then returned to his documents. Business always came first. Even tonight, the banquet was secondary — though he allowed himself the barest trace of interest.
Evening came.
The banquet hall gleamed with chandeliers, polished floors, and muted gold accents. Guests in formal attire murmured in polite conversation. Usually, Cassian would navigate such events like a predator among prey — alert, precise, every sense on guard.
Tonight, however, was different.
It had been arranged by a close friend. He trusted the host. Trusted the guest list. Trusted the setting. For the first time in months, he allowed himself to relax, easing the tension in his shoulders.
It was a mistake.
Glasses clinked politely. The wine poured. Cassian, ever composed, lifted his glass and sipped. The taste was fine, elegant and subtle. Nothing to raise concern.
Then, moments later, he felt it.
A rush of heat, an unnatural stirring beneath the surface. His body reacted instinctively. Pheromones edging toward uncontrolled release. The world sharpened — every movement of the crowd amplified, every scent heightened.
The dangerous pheromones spread through the room like a wave.
Cassian's eyes narrowed, scanning the room.
He was drugged.
He is not weak — never weak.
Not even tonight can change this fact.
But even the untouchable Cassian Drakov could falter if the right circumstances found him.
Elena stayed at his side, calm, watchful. She had been trained to read him like an open book — to notice even the subtlest shifts. But the subtle poison in his glass had already begun to tip the balance.
Cassian's control was slipping.
This banquet, intended to be safe and elegant, had become a test of his instincts — one he hadn't anticipated.
And it was already dangerous.
The dangerous pheromones spread through the room like a wave. Guests who were weak-willed faltered first, staggering, clutching their heads, then collapsing to the polished marble floor. Others froze, their faces pale, eyes wide, unable to move as the invisible pressure of his alpha presence tightened around them. Whispers of fear and alarm turned into sharp gasps. The elegant chatter of the banquet was gone, replaced by chaos.
Rick, one of Cassian's closest friends, pushed through the stunned crowd, weaving around collapsing guests with a mixture of fear and disbelief on his face. "Cassian! What… what's happening?!" His voice rose above the commotion, tense and demanding.
Cassian stood perfectly still, though every instinct screamed at him. Heat surged in his chest, and the subtle warning in his mind confirmed it — his pheromones were unstable, spreading far beyond what he could normally control. Normally, he could suppress it. Tonight, someone had sabotaged him.
Elena, his secretary, was at his side in a heartbeat. She kept her voice low but urgent. "Someone rigged Master's drink," she said, scanning the hall like a hawk. "Be careful sir, let me handle this matter"
Cassian's gaze swept across the room. Some guests writhed weakly on the floor, their bodies betraying them as his pheromones assaulted their senses. Others backed away, fear clear in their stiff posture. The chandeliers above reflected their wide-eyed panic in shards of light.
Rick stepped closer, glancing nervously at the fallen. "Who… who would do this?!"
Cassian's jaw tightened. "Someone who knows how to test my limits." His voice was deep spitting viciousness but every word carried weight. The room fell quieter at that sound, though the panic had not yet fully subsided among the guests. Most of the omegas fainted, even betas couldn't hold the pressure. Alphas felt like trepassing the territory of a vicious beast.
Cassian took a measured step forward, every movement commanding the space. Even under duress, he exuded authority. Slowly, the crowd began to obey — not because he said anything, but because every alpha instinct around him recognized his dominance. People steadied themselves, though some of the weaker-willed guests remained prone, shaking on the floor.
Elena was quick to move to his other side, guiding him subtly. "Master, should I clear the room?" she asked.
Cassian shook his head slightly, eyes still scanning for threats. "No. Not yet. I want to know who did this."
Rick looked at him, incredulous. "You're… you're standing there while everyone's collapsing? Cassian, this is—"
"I can control it, I will control it." Cassian interrupted, his tone sharp. His pheromones were still dangerous, but he had not yet lost full command. He focused on steadying his mind, calming the heat, suppressing the instinct-driven surge as much as he could. " this… this is a message for them to try to play with fire that can burn them."
From the other side of the hall came a sharp, deliberate clap.
Heads turned, still dazed from the lingering effects of his uncontrolled pheromones.
A boy stepped forward — blonde, with slightly long hair tied back neatly with a simple hair tie. Every movement he made was spitting elegance , there was a natural grace about him, as if he belonged more to a painting than a crowded banquet hall. Majestic and ethereal.
He stopped a few meters from Cassian, gaze unwavering. His expression was steady, almost challenging.
"Mister," he said, voice carrying across the hall, "your problem is not everyone's problem. There are people… like me… who are disturbed by you. Let me pour water on this fire then."
Cassian's eyes narrowed. He locked onto the boy. His aura sharpened further, instinctively alert, every muscle ready to react. Usually, his presence alone would silence anyone daring to speak in such a tone.
But the boy did not flinch. The boy did not shrink.
He glared back. Cassian's jaw tightened. He had never encountered someone who could meet his gaze without faltering, especially not now, in the middle of a banquet thrown into chaos by his own uncontrolled pheromones.
'who is this boy? Is he related to this incident or someone who want to take benefit of this situation' cassian thought. He sized the boy up and down openly with no shame.
Boy "tch, you are not gentleman at all. Should I send a tutor to you have some manner classes?"
Elena and Rick were shocked by the audacity of the boy to talk like that to Cassian. They saw cassian's reaction.
Cassian had a dangerous smile on his face as he was planning to devour this little boy whole in a single bite without leaving crumbs.