15. Jaxon

The eveningwith Lou had been a welcome distraction, her energy infectious and her wit sharp enough to slice through any lingering unease. But now, as the door of the penthouse closed behind him with a soft thud, the weight of his thoughts returned like uninvited guests.

Jaxon made his way to the bedroom, tossed his jacket onto a chair, and loosened his tie with a flick of his wrist. Collapsing onto the bed, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through the messages until he found Delcy"s text reply from Sunday—a simple string of words that had been looping in his mind ever since.

Jaxon"s thumb hovered over the keypad, itching to craft a goodnight message that would somehow encapsulate everything he felt. Yet he hesitated, fear gripping him with an irrational strength. He didn"t want to push her away, not when every moment with her felt like discovering something precious and rare.

He locked his phone and tossed it aside, lying back against the pillows as memories of their last date washed over him.

Delcy had been stunning that Saturday night, the fabric of her dress clinging to her curves in a way that made it difficult for him to focus on anything else. But it was her legs—those long, graceful limbs accentuated by a pair of elegant stilettos—that had truly captivated him. There was something about Delcy in stilettos that stirred a heat within him he hadn"t anticipated.

As Jaxon closed his eyes, images danced behind his lids—Delcy"s laughter filling the air between them, the subtle sway of her hips as she moved. It was more than physical attraction; it was an awakening of desire he couldn"t shake.

But intertwined with those warm recollections was something darker—the shadow of Colton"s presence that evening. Jaxon couldn"t ignore how intense Colton had been around Delcy, how the brother"s gaze seemed to drink her in with an insatiable thirst.

That darkness in Colton wasn"t new to Jaxon; it was an undercurrent he"d felt before. It brought back memories from seven years ago—an incident that had left an indelible mark on their family fabric.

The details emerged from the depths of his mind unbidden—the clash of voices, Colton"s fists clenched so tight they shook, Grandfather Matt"s stern face etched with disappointment. It had been one of those rare moments when their perfect world showed its cracks.

And now here was Delcy—a spark in Colton"s otherwise shadowed eyes—a potential kindling for something Jaxon wasn"t sure they were ready to handle.

He rolled onto his side, willing sleep to come and wrap its forgetful arms around him. But it eluded him, chased away by thoughts too persistent to ignore.

Jaxon reached for his phone again and powered up the screen. Delcy"s message sat there, unassuming yet powerful. He typed out a response before deleting it all—once, twice, three times—each iteration never quite capturing what he wanted to say without saying too much.

Finally, he set the phone down with resolve. He would give it time, let things unfold naturally. If there was one thing Jaxon knew about building relationships—or empires—it was that patience often yielded the greatest rewards.

* * *

Seven Years Ago

Twenty-five-year-old Jaxon Sterlingstrode through the halls of The Luminous Regency with the confidence of a man who had the world at his fingertips. Muscles flexed beneath the fine fabric of his tailored suit as he moved with purpose, his sharp eyes scanning the opulent surroundings. The hotel buzzed with the hum of diligent work and high expectations, a living entity under his keen watch.

Staff members trailed him, their faces etched with focus as they hung on his every word. He doled out orders with an easy authority that belied his age, every directive clear and concise. The day"s schedule was tight, but Jaxon thrived on the challenge, weaving through tasks like a maestro conducting a symphony.

Returning to his office after making his rounds, Jaxon paused at the threshold. A sweet pheromone scent caressed his senses, unfamiliar yet strangely comforting. He inhaled deeply, the fragrance tickling a part of him that remained untouched by boardroom dealings and strategic maneuvers.

Later that evening, when he ascended to the penthouse he shared with Colton atop the hotel, that same intoxicating aroma greeted him again. He furrowed his brow in curiosity as he removed his jacket.

"Mrs. Smith," he called out to their housekeeper, "do we have a new maid?"

The kindly woman smiled. "Not exactly, sir. One of our maids got sick, so I called one of the girls from downstairs for help. She"s new. Her name's Delcy. Sweet as an angel, that girl. She"s diligent and hard-working. She didn"t happen to misplace one of your items, I hope. I told her to be careful when cleaning yours and Master Colton"s rooms."

"No, nothing has been misplaced," Jaxon said, rolling the name Delcy in his thoughts.

The following day unfolded like any other—appointments met, decisions made—until a waft of that sweet scent caught Jaxon"s attention in the lobby. His head turned instinctively toward its source: Delcy.

There she was, a young woman of eighteen years, her figure petite yet poised as she cleaned the floor with diligence. When she lifted her gaze momentarily, Jaxon"s breath hitched in his chest. Her eyes sparkled with an innocence and vitality that pierced straight through him—a beauty untarnished by the harshness of their world.

He felt an urge to approach her, to speak and know her name from her own lips rather than secondhand from Mrs. Smith. But he hesitated. His alpha presence could be overwhelming for an omega like her—especially one so young and seemingly delicate.

Days passed in a blur for Jaxon after that momentous encounter. Between meetings and managing operations, he found himself stealing moments to catch glimpses of Delcy going about her tasks. Each sighting brought an unbidden smile to his lips.

Colton noticed these shifts in mood during their shared meals or late-night conversations over whiskey glasses.

"Been catching yourself smiling quite a bit these days," Colton said one evening, eyeing him with curiosity over the rim of his glass. "Anything intriguing you care to divulge?"

Jaxon merely shrugged it off with a nonchalant smile. "Just enjoying the fruits of our labor."

But deep down, Jaxon knew it was more than that; it was Delcy"s laughter echoing down hallways or her friendly exchanges with fellow employees that lifted his spirits—a stark contrast to their usual corporate solemnity.

Despite this growing affection for Delcy, Jaxon committed to patience. He vowed to wait until she matured—until time seasoned her youthfulness into womanhood—before revealing the depth of his interest. After all, there were lines one did not cross hastily, boundaries respected out of propriety and consideration for another"s well-being.

So he watched from afar as days turned into weeks and weeks into months. He admired how she carried herself with grace despite being an omega among alphas—a flower blooming resiliently through concrete cracks. He saw how she treated everyone with kindness regardless of their rank within The Luminous Regency hierarchy—a testament to her character and heart. Jaxon"s feelings for Delcy deepened beyond mere attraction, he found himself enchanted by her essence—the lightness she brought into any room she entered. And then that fateful night happened.

The penthouse was alive with revelry, the sound of laughter and music reverberating off the walls as if trying to escape into the night. The monthly party that he and Colton threw had become an anticipated event among their circle, a time to indulge in excess and companionship. Alpha friends gathered, their presence as commanding as the brothers", while omega women weaved through the crowd, their laughter light and inviting.

Jaxon moved through the party with ease, his usual restraint subdued by the atmosphere. He"d taken his suppressant earlier, a precaution that allowed him to enjoy the evening without the full brunt of alpha urges. He found himself entwined with a beta woman, her smile engaging and her conversation light. Her presence was pleasant, a soothing balm against the heightened energy around them.

As the night deepened, pheromones thickened the air, intoxicating and potent. The partygoers paired off, lost in the primal dance of attraction and desire. Jaxon felt a tug of envy for their freedom, but he was content for now with the woman in his arms.

Amidst the chaos, he overheard the staff manager directing servers to bring in additional workers for service and cleanup. It was a fleeting thought, quickly dismissed as he returned his attention to his companion.

Hours passed like minutes until Jaxon"s tranquility was shattered by a familiar scent cutting through the haze—a sweet fragrance that stirred something deep within him despite the suppressant. Delcy.

He caught sight of her moving through the crowd, her face flushed with what he could only assume was discomfort. Concern pricked at him; she seemed out of place amid the fervor of alpha pheromones. He started to rise, intent on ensuring her safety.

But the beta woman"s hands pulled him back into their private world with a gentle insistence that spoke of her own desires. Guilt flickered within him; after all, it wasn"t his place to interfere—Delcy knew how to handle herself. With reluctance born of duty and alpha pride, he allowed himself to be drawn back into their embrace.

Yet Delcy"s image lingered in his mind—her flushed cheeks, her quick steps—and no amount of distraction could fully erase it. When another hour slipped by and her scent only grew stronger in his senses, Jaxon excused himself with a murmured apology that went unnoticed by his now-drowsy companion.

He followed Delcy"s scent through corridors lit by dimmed lights that did little to mask the energy pulsating from behind closed doors. His steps were silent but purposeful. Even with his dulled instincts, he could feel the urgency rising within him, a testament to Delcy"s potent allure.

The trail led him to Colton"s room where muffled sounds seeped out from beneath the door, a symphony of pleasure and need that halted Jaxon"s breath in his throat.

His hand found the doorknob without conscious thought. It turned effortlessly under his grip and he pushed open the door. The sight before him froze time, a tableau etched into memory with brutal clarity.

Colton was there, unmistakably caught in a rut"s merciless grip; and Delcy—sweet Delcy—clung to him as if he were her lifeline amidst a stormy sea. Her eyes were closed tight, lost in heat"s delirium while Colton moved with an intensity that shook Jaxon to his core.

For a moment, Jaxon stood rooted in place by shock and a betrayal so sharp it cut through even suppressant-dulled senses. This wasn"t just another woman from Colton"s endless string of conquests—this was Delcy.

His mind raced with questions. How had she ended up here? Why hadn"t anyone protected her from being thrown into this den of primal urges? But deep down, he knew answers wouldn"t change what unfolded before him.

A low growl rumbled unbidden from Jaxon"s throat as possessiveness flared hotly within him—an alpha instinct triggered by sights and scents too potent to ignore. But no matter how primal his response, no matter how fierce his desire to claim and protect—it was too late.

Delcy had made her choice. Or had it been made for her? The lines blurred between consent and heat-driven necessity. All Jaxon knew was that something precious had been tarnished in this room where power played out its most ancient dance.

Jaxon slowly stepped back, each movement deliberate as he withdrew from the threshold of Colton"s room—the room where Delcy lay enveloped in heat"s embrace—and shut out the scene before him with a soft click of the door closing.

The world outside seemed distant now; party noises faded into insignificance against this new reality—one where lines once clear were smudged beyond recognition. The Sterling name carried weight—a legacy of power—but tonight it felt like an anchor dragging him down into murky depths.

Jaxon leaned against the wall outside Colton"s room for support, his mind grappling with emotions raw and unbidden while inside that closed space, Delcy clung tighter still—and life at The Luminous Regency continued unabated around them all.

* * *

Jaxon woke with a start,his heart racing in the silent darkness of his penthouse. A sheen of cold sweat clung to his skin as the remnants of a nightmare—the first in ages—clawed at the edges of his consciousness. The stormy night from seven years ago played out behind his eyes, haunting him with visions of Delcy"s tear-streaked face and Colton"s disoriented awakening.

He threw back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his head pounding in rhythm with the surge of memories. The image of Mrs. Smith guiding Delcy out of their penthouse and through the corridors of The Luminous Regency was vivid, a reminder of a chapter he wished could be rewritten.

Colton had looked like a man who had seen a monster, his features etched with confusion and darkness—a stark contrast to the cheerful, carefree brother Jaxon once knew. The weight of shame and self-blame had settled over Colton like a shroud, transforming him into a shadow of his former self.

The following days were turbulent, as news of the incident reached their grandfather"s ears. The scolding that followed was severe and unrelenting, and Colton emerged from it forever changed—a man now carrying a dark past that dulled his spirit.

Jaxon remembered how he had tried to find Delcy, driven by concern and an inexplicable pull toward her. But every endeavor was blocked by their grandfather"s stern hand. "It is not your place," he had insisted, declaring that he would handle the situation as the family patriarch.

Feeling hopeless and bound by familial duty, Jaxon ceased his search for Delcy. That was until six months ago when fate intervened as he drove past Brewed Dreams after work. There she was, stepping out of the café and into her car. Her silhouette was unmistakable, even after all these years, and her presence ignited something within him that he thought had been extinguished long ago.

For months, Jaxon would park nearby, ensconced in his car, watching her work through the café windows. The internal debate raged on—should he go in or stay away? Fearful that his presence would only dredge up painful memories for her, he chose to keep his distance.

But the pull toward Delcy grew stronger each day until it became unbearable. In an impulsive moment born from years of suppressed yearning, Jaxon suggested to Colton they grab coffee at Brewed Dreams.

When Jaxon finally saw Delcy up close, it was as if time stood still. Her scent filled his senses, causing his heart to race and rekindling a desire within him that blazed to life with an intensity he couldn"t contain.

What troubled him most was Colton"s lack of recognition—his brother didn"t remember Delcy as the girl from that fateful night. Part of Jaxon felt relieved. It meant no resurgence of guilt or pain for Colton. Yet worry gnawed at him because despite Colton"s ignorance, an attraction simmered between them—an attraction mirrored by Jaxon"s own undeniable pull toward Delcy.

Jaxon could not stop their growing attraction any more than he could quell his own feelings for Delcy. It was a conundrum that left him restless; two brothers entwined with one woman—their pasts colliding with their present in ways none could foresee.

Jaxon shook his head in an attempt to dispel the lingering images of Delcy in Colton"s arms, but they clung stubbornly to the corners of his mind. The darkness outside was just beginning to wane as he pulled on his workout clothes, the fabric hugging his well-muscled frame.

The gym was quiet, the hum of machinery and the clank of weights a comforting soundtrack to his tumultuous thoughts. Each lift and pull was methodical, a channel for the storm brewing within him. Sweat beaded on his brow, tracing paths down his temples as he pushed himself harder, driven by an inner restlessness that refused to abate.

After showering off the vestiges of his exertion, Jaxon slipped into a crisp suit that complemented his commanding stature. He glanced at himself in the mirror—every inch the Sterling alpha—yet it did little to shake off the feeling that something fundamental had shifted within him.

His drive to work was automatic, a route he could navigate with his eyes closed. But today, autopilot failed him as he approached Brewed Dreams. The familiar pang of longing twisted in his chest at the sight of Delcy through the window.

His hand reached for the door handle; he could already taste the bittersweet tang of coffee on his tongue and feel the warmth of Delcy"s presence. But then he paused, fingers tightening around the handle until his knuckles turned white.

The dream, the memory, of that night resurfaced with vivid intensity—Delcy"s eyes filled with tears, Colton"s voice thick with confusion and remorse, Grandfather Matt"s stern reprimands echoing through time.

With a sharp intake of breath, Jaxon withdrew his hand from the door handle as if scorched by flames. He couldn"t walk into Brewed Dreams, not today. With one last glance at Delcy—a snapshot to carry with him—he put his car in gear and continued to Sterling Enterprises.