Embark The Spark In Us

Chapter 01

Prologue

Harvey's POV

Even the silence was expensive...

The halls echoed with the quiet hum of wealth—polished Italian marble, crystal chandeliers imported from Prague, security guards who looked like they used to work for presidents. Our classrooms weren't just smart—they were smarter than half the faculty. Touchscreen walls, scent diffusers, heated floors. And our seats? Custom velvet from Paris. No one shared anything here. Not books. Not space. Not status.

And me? I was at the top of that glass tower.

Harvey Vellion.
My family owned the biggest business in the city—and in half a dozen other countries. Tech, real estate, luxury goods— we owned a piece of it. The Vellion name opened doors before I even knocked.

My circle—Finch, Mike, and Joshua—weren't just my friends. They were the second-richest boys in our school , which still made them elite in every possible way. Together, we didn't attend school. We owned it. Our classroom? A private suite with a 360° interactive screen, our own assistant for notes and errands, and a mini café stocked with everything from imported espresso to sparkling water from Iceland.

Lunch wasn't served in a canteen. That word alone made us laugh. We dined in what could only be described as a five-star buffet lounge. Gold-trimmed cutlery, chefs on standby, sushi flown in from Tokyo every Wednesday, desserts that sparkled with edible gold. Our lives were planned, polished, and protected.

Until the email came.

Lynwood Hall will be closed temporarily due to severe underground plumbing failure. All students will be transferred to their nearest public school until maintenance is completed.

I blinked. Read it again.

Finch looked up from his espresso, brows furrowed. Mike's fork froze mid-air. Joshua laughed—until he realized we weren't joking.

"Public school?" he muttered. "Is that even real?"

It was.

And just like that, everything we knew—the comfort, the control, the crown—was slipping out of reach. No assistants. No private suites. No nameplates on our seats.

We were about to step into the world we'd only seen from behind tinted windows.

And I had no idea what to expect.

***

The dead don't speak, but sometimes... they whisper.

I still remember the graveyard—the rustle of leaves, the bitter air of October, and the heavy silence that followed my grandmother's funeral. People in black coats moved like shadows around me, but I only stared at the grave. At the woman who raised me. At the home I'd never return to.

That was the day something inside me changed.

Now, years later, I've become everything my family expected—and yet, nothing I truly understand. Harvey Vellion, heir to the Vellion Company. Rich, charming, untouchable. At least, that's what they see.

But beneath the designer suits and diamond cufflinks, there's a scar that never quite faded. And on my skin—etched in black ink, hidden beneath my shirt—is a shape and number . A secret. A reminder that I belong to no one.

"Harvey, wake up!" The maid's voice snapped me back to reality.

I groaned, dragging a hand across my face. The sun hadn't even fully risen, but my schedule was already full. The field at our school was under renovation, so our football team was heading to Wexford College to practice. A public college.