📣 In this chapter and the next chapters, we are seven years in the past compared to the main story. Alexei is Taren, just with a seven-year time difference.

It was still morning when Eric left the taxi at London Paddington. One hour ago, he had left behind his brother and his past at the family mansion in which he could never set foot again. 

At the station, trains departed in a million different directions, each leading to a different future. But Eric remained motionless; he neither deserved nor wanted a future—his only desire was to forget who he was and where he came from.

Like a nobody, he wanted to blend in with the crowd and disappear within it until there was nothing left of him. Perhaps, if nothingness permitted, he would hold on to the memory of his little brother whose smile was the source of his life energy.  

The sky was grey and hopeless, just like the faces of the people around him. In the midst of morning rush hour, commuters, soulless marionettes, hurried past him; they were dead inside, only their funerals had been postponed.  

As Eric’s eyes, used to shine and glamour, adjusted to the dullness of his new reality, a lone guy caught his eyes. Leisurely sitting on a bench, he smiled at the sky as if he was looking at an entirely different world, a world in which colours existed and life was still pure and raw.  

Eric wanted to know what the stranger’s eyes saw that were so vividly alive and bluer than a cloudless sky. No, he needed to know to stay anchored amongst the living. 

Carefully approaching the mythical creature in human disguise, he was taken aback by his beauty. Ebony black hair and a flawless face—an angel. Eric would have loved to invite him into his bedroom... if he still had one. 

“I was wondering if you could tell me,” he said with a lopsided smile—fake but sexy, “If you’re here, who’s running Heaven?”

However, the being didn’t seem to understand; he just rolled his stunning eyes in a manner that betrayed his appearance. “Fuck off, weirdo.” The stranger quickly looked around before getting up and walking away. 

Eric scratched his head; his pickup lines usually worked and he knew that his carefully practised grin was irresistible. “Hey wait!” he called out to the person who, by now, had turned into a side road; Eric had to run to catch up to him. “Playing hard to get? How about I buy you breakfast? I mean you buy me breakfast?” he corrected himself, realising his pockets were empty after paying the taxi fare.

The alley was darker than the main road—as was the stranger’s facial expression. There was no trace of the heavenly smile, only a scowl that seemed to originate from the depths of Hell. “What do you fucking want?”

“I hit on you because you’re hot.” Eric furrowed his brows. Was the guy that dense? “Don’t you know who I am? My name is Eric N—” He stopped. Having just run away from home, disclosing his surname might not be that wise. Was he even allowed to still use that name after he had disgraced the family? 

“Let’s go somewhere more private, or do you like getting to know each other here?” The street was grey and dirty, and the air smelled of car exhaust from the roaring rush-hour traffic. It wasn’t a place for an angel like him. “How about we get a room? I know some good hotels around here.”

The stranger didn’t reply, his gaze was fixed on Eric’s arm. More precisely, his watch, a Christmas present, made with 18 carats rose gold and alligator leather for the strap. 

“Hand it over.” His voice wasn’t angel-like but firm and commanding. 

Like he would be fun in bed, Eric thought as he compiled. The watch didn’t mean anything to him: there were countless others in his collection of loveless Christmas and birthday presents. If anything, he was glad to get rid of it so it would no longer remind him of what he needed to forget.  

As the guy reached out, Eric got hold of his hand; it was cold and slim, almost like that of a girl. Suddenly, the desire to get into the guy’s pants vanished, just holding his hand was enough to cure the loneliness he hid inside. “What’s your name, Lovely? How about—” Eric asked when a sudden pain in his abdomen rendered him unable to speak.

In agony, his view turned black and Eric crouched, not understanding what had happened for some moments. Then, he realised the guy had punched him with his free hand. 

It took a moment until his vision returned and the pain ebbed away—the hours in the gym had paid off, his abdominal muscles were not only sexy but had also weakened the impact of the punch. Not wasting a second, Eric spotted the guy walking away and hurried to catch up again. “I already gave you the watch, was that really necessary?”

There was no reaction and Eric was at his wit’s end. All he knew was that he didn’t want to let go of this person, even if the cost was his pride. “You know... I- I really like you.”

The answer came promptly and harshly. “I’m not into guys.”

As the heir of the Nightingale Corporation, a rejection was as alien to him as a party ending at midnight. It turned his innards into an empty hole, making him painfully aware of his despair. “I- I have nowhere to go. There is nothing left inside me... except for my feelings for you.” 

At least now the stranger stopped walking and looked at him properly. Eric felt his cheeks redden under his gaze like he was a girl. ‘Like what you see?’ was what he wanted to say but no words came over his lips. 

“Your family must be quite wealthy.” 

Eric rubbed the back of his head with his hand. “You can tell?”

“Alexei. That's my name. Come with me.” 

Eric smiled. He knew his charm would turn the stranger around. He only wondered if it had been his well-trained body or his fashionable attire that had persuaded his angel.