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Chapter Five

Alex

“What’s going on, Lorenzo?” he asked, drinking in the sight of his designs greedily.

“Today’s a big day. Mr Tyler wants you in his office at seven a.m. to start work.”

“Work?” Alex queried. “I thought that’s what I did for him here, in this bed, with the stupid saps he makes me fuck.” In the past couple of months he’d slept with several of Tyler’s “guests”. It hadn’t become any easier, but the format had always been the same.

“Well, today it’s something different.” Lorenzo grabbed the duvet and yanked it back, and cool air caressed Alex’s warm, naked body. “Now get in the shower, pronto.” He slapped Alex’s buttocks affectionately. Alex gave a growl of annoyance, tore his gaze away from the designs, and slid out of bed.

After his shower, Lorenzo shaved him, and then styled his hair flat with copious amounts of gel, parting it severely down one side.

“I look like I walked out of one of those ancient movies,” Alex complained. “You know, the ones from the 1940s, where everyone talked like this.” He mimicked the clipped, precise tones from the period.

“It’s a good look on you,” Lorenzo said approvingly. “What am I saying? Everything’s a good look on you.”

Alex stood still as Lorenzo finished dressing him.

He’d learned that the stylist was kind-hearted and good fun, but he also had a core of steel and was not to be messed with.

He allowed Alex to tease him, and they could laugh together at whatever absurdity life as George Tyler’s indies threw up, but at the end of the day Lorenzo had a job to do, and it was one he took very seriously.

Alex could bitch and whine all he liked, but Lorenzo demanded that he hold still while being shaved and having his hair done, and that he allowed himself to be dressed with the minimum of fuss.

Those were the rules, and Alex had found it better to cooperate than to be truculent.

Besides, he liked Lorenzo – the guy was just doing his job, the same as everyone else around here.

Making Lorenzo’s life difficult wasn’t going to hurt Tyler in the slightest.

It felt absurd, as a grown man, to be helped into clothes as if he was a child, but Alex obediently stepped into the plain white boxer shorts Lorenzo held out for him.

They were made of expensive cotton, and felt cool and crisp against his skin.

“Nothing but the best for Mr Tyler’s protégé,” Lorenzo said approvingly.

“Protégé!” Alex snorted. “I’m his prize whore. It’s not like he’s training me to take over his company.”

“If we’re given a part, we play it. That’s part of your learning process, darling.” Lorenzo gave him a peck on the cheek. “You must play the roles Mr Tyler gives to you.”

“And what is this role?” Alex asked as Lorenzo held out an exquisitely tailored pale blue shirt.

“I don’t know, I’m afraid. Sorry, sweetie.

” Lorenzo eased him into an elegant navy-blue suit, complete with waistcoat, and then knotted a cerulean tie around his collar.

A pair of fine navy-blue silk socks and shining black shoes completed the ensemble.

“Perfect.” The stylist smoothed his fingers over Alex’s suit jacket and then took hold of his shoulders and positioned him in front of the mirror.

Alex was barely able to recognise the beautifully turned-out apparition in front of him. He looked like a businessman, but not remotely like the one he’d actually been. His appearance was more like that of an ambitious account exec at some posh New London bank.

The wet-look hair and closely shaven face gave him a sharp look, while the beautiful suit screamed ambition.

He’d always hated corporate schemers like this.

He rolled his eyes at his reflection, and there it was – that glimmer of his true self.

Tyler could dress him any way he liked, but the real Alex Lytton was still there underneath. He hoped he’d never lose sight of him.

“So, where am I going?” he asked as Lorenzo opened the door. His guard fell into place behind him, as usual, as Lorenzo led the way down the corridor towards the lift.

“Why, Croydon, darling.” Lorenzo grinned. “Where else?”

Instead of being taken down in the lift and escorted into a duck as he’d expected, Alex was taken to the very top of the building.

He paused in the doorway as the lift doors opened onto the world; it was the first time he’d been outside in months.

Ever since his arrival, his entire universe had consisted of the suite of rooms below, and his only companions, aside from Tyler’s guests, had been Solange, Lorenzo, Mason, Chef, and his guards.

It was a cool morning with a light breeze that fluttered across his face, failing to make any impression on his tightly slicked-down hair.

A helicopter was waiting on the rooftop helipad.

“This is where we part company,” Lorenzo said, adjusting Alex’s tie minutely. “Now, darling – be good, and I’m sure it’ll be over soon.”

“What’s waiting for me, Lorenzo? What does he want from me this time?” Alex beseeched, feeling anxious about the change of scene.

“I don’t know any details, my love. I only know he wanted you looking sharp and business-like.” Lorenzo patted him down. “Don’t worry – you look amazing.”

He didn’t care how he looked, but he supposed that from Lorenzo’s point of view it was the most important thing.

“I didn’t bring any of the pills you gave me,” he said.

“Well, hopefully you won’t need them,” Lorenzo said. “In future, remember to put them in your pocket wherever you go, just in case. Off you go now.”

Scarface directed him into the helicopter, then climbed in beside him. The blades whirred, and they were whisked up into the air.

“Why are we going to Croydon?” Alex demanded. “What’s there?”

“Tyler Tech HQ,” Scarface replied.

Alex had never been to Tyler’s business headquarters before. Any work he’d done with Tyler had been in houses, workshops, and restaurants. The helicopter quickly ate up the short distance to the fringes of New London.

Croydon had once been a downmarket commercial centre on the outskirts of London, a poor relation to Canary Wharf’s gleaming towers.

Now, that financial and business powerhouse lay mostly under water, and Croydon had taken over as its unlikely successor, transforming over the past decade as money from the new prosperity had come pouring in.

Alex viewed its imposing skyscrapers from a distance, the dark water lapping up high against the flood barriers showing just how close the place had come to being lost in the Rising.

From this high in the air, he could see how virtually all of Old London was underwater; Croydon marked where that stopped, and suddenly there were large areas of land stretching out in front of them to the south.

Tyler’s HQ was, unsurprisingly, the tallest tower in a cluster that dominated Croydon’s centre. It soared high above the others, and at its very top was a massive sign: TYLER TECH .

Alex was excited. Outside of his work entertaining Tyler’s clients, all his days for the past couple of months had been the same: tedious exercise routines in the gym, and hanging out in the living room, reading and watching movies on the smartwall.

He’d spent the rest of his time chatting to Solange and Scarface.

He liked it when Lorenzo dropped by, as it livened the place up, even though he was bored witless by the constant fittings and style sessions that Lorenzo insisted upon.

He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed being out in the world. Maybe this would be the start of a new chapter of his life as an IS. Maybe, just maybe, Tyler had a purpose for him other than serving as his corporate whore.

The helicopter landed on the roof of the building. Alex was escorted off and taken to a lift, which travelled down a couple of floors before opening into the heart of Tyler’s business empire.

He looked around in awe at the sight that greeted him.

The building hummed with industrious activity, smartwalls showed rolling news updates and views over the city outside, and everywhere he looked Tyler’s staff were busy working on state-of-the-art holopads.

Compared to this, Lytton AV was small fry, a little company that hadn’t grown or developed in years.

He was ushered into a waiting room that was as big as his father’s entire office. Scarface gestured that he should sit on a black leather sofa, then stationed himself beside it, between Alex and the nearest exit. The smartwall display told him the time was exactly 7a.m.

George Tyler suddenly appeared in the doorway. He looked smart and business-like, in a tailored black suit, crisp black shirt, and scarlet tie. “Ah, you’re here on time – good. I’m glad you’re not late for your first day in the office.”

“I’m going to be working here?”

“Yes, you are. Don’t look so surprised. Did you think I’d spend a fortune on you just to leave you mouldering away in some penthouse tower forever? I’ve got big plans for you, Alexander. Come with me.”

He followed Tyler into his office, which was immense and beautifully furnished. There was an entire wall of glass, with stunning views over Croydon.

“Nice view, isn’t it?” Tyler grinned.

“Yeah. You seem to be addicted to big windows,” Alex commented. “You’ve got them everywhere.”

“I like natural light and wide vistas. I’m a man of vision, Alexander; it’s important to me. ”

“I bet you also like owning the tallest, fanciest building in sight, so everyone can see how important you are,” he returned snidely.

Tyler laughed. “You’re right. I do. Part of running a business empire like Tyler Tech is impressing on people that I’m a man of power and influence – someone they should want to do business with.

People might distrust the company, or me individually, or even my staff or my projects, but they always trust impressive surroundings. ”

“Maybe they see this and want a little piece of it for themselves,” Alex said.