6. Jaxon

Jaxon easedhis car to a halt outside Brewed Dreams. His morning ritual had settled into a comfortable pattern over the past week, the daily stop at the café became a pulse point in his routine. On the days his schedule brimmed with meetings and demands, he"d order coffee delivered to Sterling Enterprises—one for himself and one for Colton, a silent message of brotherly solidarity.

Today, however, Jaxon had time to spare. He strolled into Brewed Dreams with an ease that belied his anticipation. His gaze swept across the space, hoping for a glimpse of Delcy. On the days she graced him with her presence, he felt a surge of satisfaction, a quiet contentment that softened the edges of his otherwise rigorous life.

On days like today, when Delcy was nowhere to be seen, a shadow would pass over his mood. The coffee cups from Brewed Dreams had accumulated in his penthouse, lined up like soldiers on a shelf in his bedroom, a tangible connection to those brief encounters that started his day on a brighter note.

As he waited for his order, Jaxon"s fingers slipped into his pocket, finding the pen that had become his talisman. He"d toyed with it often, rolling it between his fingers in moments of contemplation or boredom but never allowing it to touch paper.

The week trudged on, unremarkable but for these small rituals, until Saturday arrived. In front of the full-length mirror in his penthouse, Jaxon adjusted the cuffs of his sleek suit. It clung to him like a second skin, cut to enhance every line and angle of his tall, athletic frame. He scrutinized himself critically, a formidable image reflected back at him, powerful and polished. He was ready for the Alpha Gold Club event.

Though these exclusive gatherings had lost their allure over the years, Jaxon knew appearances must be kept. He slid on an expensive watch to complete the look, then grabbed his keys and headed next door to his brother"s penthouse.

He found Colton looking every bit as impeccable as himself—hair styled to casual perfection, suit tailored flawlessly—but wearing an expression that spoke volumes of his reluctance.

"You look like you"re heading to a funeral," he quipped as he leaned against the doorframe.

Colton grunted.

"Tell you what. If it"s truly terrible, we"ll ditch early," he suggested casually. "We"ll check out Café Serenity where Delcy works on Saturday night. Maybe we"ll catch her at the end of her shift." They had learned the café's name where Delcy was employed on Fridays and Saturdays through Anna, Delcy"s junior coworker at Brewed Dreams.

At the mention of Delcy"s name, Colton"s demeanor shifted almost imperceptibly, a hint of light in otherwise stormy eyes. Jaxon felt a little spark of excitement himself at the thought of seeing her again.

"Yeah," Colton said after a moment. "We could do that."

With an air of slightly lifted spirits, they left Colton"s penthouse side by side. The city unfolded before them as they descended into its heartbeat, the streets pulsing with life and secrets waiting in shadowed corners.

Tonight, they would tread familiar ground among their peers—wealthy alphas accustomed to power plays and social maneuvering.

The crisp night air clung to Jaxon"s skin as he stepped out of the car, Colton following close behind. The grandeur of the gallery loomed before them, its fa?ade bathed in a cascade of white light that set the stage for the evening"s opulence. They joined the throng of guests outside the gallery, all adorned in their finery, their laughter and chatter forming a symphony of high society.

Jaxon felt the weight of eyes on him as he and Colton ascended the steps, their impeccable suits a testament to their status. Whispers threaded through the air like silk, and gazes glinted with unspoken invitations.

Once inside, they were immediately greeted with smiles and not-so-subtle overtures. Jaxon accepted a flute of champagne from a server, nodding politely as wealthy businessmen and politicians came to pay their respects. Beside him, Colton"s mood darkened perceptibly amidst the fawning and flattery.

Their status as the heirs of Sterling Enterprises elevated them to the apex of high society. For many here tonight, securing their interest, be it personal or professional, would be a major coup.

Jaxon couldn"t help but note the calculated beauty of it all, the choreographed grace with which each person moved through the space, their smiles practiced and predatory. They were all players in a game of wealth and desire, where everyone had something to gain and something to lose.

He also noted the coy glances and not-so-subtle attempts to catch his eye, invitations etched into the curves of red lips and plunging necklines. These were the club"s treasures, groomed and polished for the pleasure of those who could afford such luxuries. Or the elite patrons who sponsored them, draped in diamonds that caught the light like stilettos on marble floors.

Jaxon had seen it all before. As a dominant alpha from an influential family, he was accustomed to being fawned over. Once it had stroked his ego, but now it only stoked the restless boredom coiling within.

Beside him, Colton looked equally unimpressed, sipping champagne with an air of detachment.

A portly man, the head organizer of the Alpha Gold Club, bustled toward them with a gait that balanced eagerness and deference.

"Mr. Sterling, Mr. Sterling! We"re honored to have you with us this evening." He shook their hands vigorously, beaming with self-importance at hosting such prestigious guests. "We hope you find everything to your satisfaction."

As he prattled on about the club"s offerings, Jaxon"s thoughts drifted.

The Alpha Gold Club catered to the proclivities of wealthy alphas through exclusive auctions. Beautiful omegas and betas—known as treasures—were presented to vie for the attentions of elite patrons.

It was an open secret, spoken of in hushed tones to preserve a veneer of propriety. In truth, it was a playground for the rich and powerful, another arena where influence could be leveraged and social alliances forged.

Jaxon nodded absently as the organizer described the third floor"s luxury amenities. Up there, alpha elites mingled and schemed, selecting submissive beauties to enjoy for the night, or more.

They ascended to the third floor where luxury unfurled like a red carpet. A large room awaited them, teeming with wealthy alphas engaged in conversation over glasses of aged scotch and plates of gourmet food. The atmosphere was thick with power and wealth, a den where lions came to roar softly into each other"s ears.

While Colton withdrew to a corner, embracing solitude over sycophancy, Jaxon found himself surrounded by eager faces. Business cards fluttered into his hands like doves seeking shelter, promises of partnerships and profits dancing from their lips.

After sufficient mingling, Jaxon joined Colton, accepting a tumbler of whiskey as he sank into an armchair.

"Well, this is..." Jaxon trailed off, at a loss for words.

"Repugnant," Colton supplied crisply.

Jaxon huffed a laugh. "I was trying to be diplomatic, but yes."

They sat in pensive silence until the lights dimmed, signaling the main event"s commencement.

The hum of conversation lulled to a hush as the head organizer cleared his throat, stepping up to the dais with an air of importance. Jaxon, whiskey in hand, observed him with a detached curiosity. The man"s practiced smile stretched across his jowly face, and he gestured grandly to the gathering.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his voice booming with false bonhomie, "I am Marcus Trenton, your host for this splendid evening. On behalf of the Alpha Gold Club, I extend a warm welcome to our esteemed members and our honored guests."

Jaxon noted the emphasis on honored guests, a not-so-subtle nod to the newcomers whose wallets they hoped to charm open. The club was known for its opulence and exclusivity, and the fact that they were courting new blood suggested whispers of financial strain might not be just idle gossip.

"We trust that you will find our club"s offerings most... intriguing," Trenton continued. "And perhaps you will choose to join us more permanently in the near future."

From the periphery of Jaxon"s vision, he caught snippets of hushed conversation between two men standing nearby.

"They"re desperate for fresh funds," one murmured to the other. "Why else invite potential members like this?"

Jaxon suppressed a smirk. So the rumors were true. The club was seeking new patrons to maintain its lavish lifestyle.

Trenton raised his arms as if embracing the entire room. "Now, without further ado, let us introduce our treasures—the evening"s pièce de résistance!"

The walls came alive with motion as paintings were replaced by screens showcasing live footage from the open gallery below. Beautiful men and women milled about, their laughter light and their movements fluid as they interacted with art pieces.

Jaxon allowed himself a moment of indulgence, his gaze flitting from one screen to another, some treasures adorned in fine dresses, others in sharp suits that clung to toned bodies. They moved with easy grace, smiling under bright lights and the scrutiny of hidden cameras.

As the camera panned across the gallery space, Jaxon found his thoughts drifting to Delcy. What would she make of this spectacle, of people put on display like art to be claimed? No doubt she"d be appalled.

He leaned back in his chair, enjoying the view with a languid ease that came from knowing he could have any of them should he desire it. But none held his attention for long. They were beautiful distractions, nothing more.

Beside him, Colton shifted in his seat, a bored lion surveying his domain with disinterest. His eyes flickered from screen to screen with a detachment that bordered on disdain. However, when a slender figure with dark hair flashed across one of the monitors, Colton"s posture straightened ever so slightly.

Jaxon caught the subtle change and followed his brother"s gaze. They both knew Delcy wouldn"t be among these treasures. She was too busy making ends meet in her own world.

A world away from this gilded cage where everything had its price and everyone played their part.

"See something you like, brother?" he asked lightly.

Colton made a noncommittal sound, though his eyes never left the screen. Amused, Jaxon returned to his own perusal, intrigued by this rare spark of interest from his normally aloof twin.

Truth be told, Jaxon"s own attention was split, his thoughts returning again and again to Delcy. At this very moment, she was bustling about Café Serenity, trading smiles with patrons instead of parading for leering cameras.

Jaxon could perfectly envision her in that space, small but warm, smelling of roasted coffee beans instead of elite pretention. Her smile would be real, not cultivated to entice or seduce.

Trenton"s voice interrupted his thoughts. "Please take your time to observe our lovely treasures before making your selections. We aim to provide an array of choices to satisfy even the most discerning of tastes."

Jaxon grimaced. He"d forgotten how clinical the club could be, reducing living beings to products on offer. Colton looked equally disgusted.

Around them, alpha elites leaned forward in their chairs to better view the screens. Some pointed and commented to each other about possible choices. Jaxon swirled his whiskey, feigning interest while feeling only growing disdain.

This outing had been a mistake. The petty intrigues and transactions conducted here now seemed hollow and unappealing. He and Colton had outgrown these games.

Jaxon drained his whiskey glass in one smooth motion, placing it on the table with an audible clink that mirrored his growing disinterest.

"I think we"ve seen enough," he said to Colton. "Ready to escape this circus?"

Colton nodded without a word, pushing himself up from his seat with an elegance that belied his impatience to leave. They were done.

Together they navigated through clusters of alphas vying for attention or attempting stealthy negotiations, each interaction steeped in underlying agendas. They were at the door when a familiar figure on one of the screens caught their eyes.

* * *

Jaxon"s gazewas locked on the screen, disbelief etching every line of his face, every muscle in his body tensing. He leaned closer, as if proximity could dispel the illusion. But there she was—Delcy—moving with hesitant grace through the gallery, her presence an anomaly amidst the curated beauty of the club"s treasures.

Even from this distant view, her beauty was unmistakable. Gone was the coffee-stained uniform, in its place, an elegant gown that clung to her lithe figure, its deep hue accentuating smooth sun-kissed skin. Her hair was swept up in an elegant style, exposing the graceful curve of her neck and shoulders.

Jaxon"s breath caught in his throat. Beside him, Colton had gone equally still, his eyes laser-focused on Delcy's image. Shock rippled through them both, immediately followed by a swell of possessiveness so intense it stole their breaths.

Ours, every cell in their bodies seemed to roar.

As she paused to adjust a strap on her shoe, every curve of her figure spoke of an elegance that was innate rather than imposed, a stark contrast to the practiced poise of the other treasures. Her agent, a young woman Jaxon recognized as Lydia of the Hamill family, spoke to her with a hand resting proprietarily on Delcy"s arm.

Jaxon felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Lydia Hamill? He knew of her, a woman in high society known for her vanity and the subtle cruelty she cloaked in kindness. What game was she playing by bringing Delcy here?

His hands balled into fists at his sides as he watched two men taking an interest in Delcy. The sight sparked a fierce protectiveness within him, and without thinking, he shot them a look so cold it could have frozen the champagne they held.

Colton mirrored his action, his stance broadening in a silent challenge that left no room for misunderstanding. The men backed off, muttering to themselves but wisely choosing not to engage further.

Delcy moved through the gallery, her discomfort evident as she held herself slightly apart, posture stiff compared to her laughing companions. Her smile looked strained, not reaching worried eyes that flickered around the opulent space and toward the exit.

Jaxon"s hands curled into tight fists, nails biting into his palms. Rage simmered beneath his skin at the thought of Delcy being forced into this gilded cage against her will.

As Delcy"s companions peeled off to mingle, she lingered alone by a sculpture, her posture shrinking into itself. Jaxon ached to sweep her into his arms and spirit her away from prying eyes and scheming elites.

A low growl rumbled in Colton"s throat as a man approached Delcy, leaning in close to whisper in her ear. She recoiled, shrinking away from his touch, and the man laughed.

Jaxon moved on instinct, muscles coiling, ready to vault over the balcony railing and tear the smirk from the man"s face. A firm hand on his arm stopped him short—Colton, eyes blazing but grip steady with warning. Jaxon forced himself to take a deep breath, tamping down the primal urge to protect what was his.

On-screen, Delcy extricated herself from the man"s grasp, slipping into the crowd in search of escape. Jaxon"s eyes tracked her hungrily, refusing to lose sight of her again.

Without tearing his eyes away from Delcy, Colton called out to Trenton. "We want to speak with her," he stated firmly, his voice cutting through the low murmur of conversation around them.

Trenton turned toward them, his face lighting up with relief so palpable it nearly filled the room. "Of course, Mr. Sterling," he said eagerly as he approached, tablet in hand.

He scrolled through the information before him. "Her name is Delcy Charlton," he began to explain. "Her agent is Lydia Hamill of the prominent alpha family—"

"I don"t care about that," Colton interrupted sharply. "Bring her up here."

Trenton bobbed his head in a nod so vigorous it sent his jowls quivering. He scurried off to arrange for Delcy"s appearance, leaving Colton and Jaxon to process what they"d just seen.

As Trenton paused at the threshold and turned back tentatively, Jaxon anticipated his question. "No," he said before Trenton could speak. "We"re not interested in anyone else."

With that dismissal hanging in the air like smoke from an extinguished flame, the brothers were ushered into the meeting gallery next door, a space where luxury wasn"t just an accent but the very language spoken.

Exclusive paintings adorned the walls, vivid splashes of color and texture that demanded attention and admiration. A string quartet played softly in a corner, their music weaving through conversations that held undertones of deals and desires being bartered.

Servers glided between clusters of alphas and their chosen companions, offering glasses of wine from vineyards whose names carried weight and history. Plates piled high with gourmet food circulated among them, plentitude for those accustomed to feasting every day.

Jaxon ignored it all, tension coiling through him as he waited for Delcy, each tick of his watch marking a moment too long without her presence. Beside him, Colton was statue-still, radiating a palpable fury that had patrons giving him a wide berth.

Then she appeared at the doorway—an ethereal figure momentarily caught between worlds—the opulent realm of alphas and her own reality that lay beyond these walls.

For Jaxon, everything else faded into insignificance—the chatter around them dulling into silence, the paintings losing their vibrancy, even his own heartbeat seeming to echo hers as he approached.

There she was, standing before him as real as any dream dared materialize, the woman who had unwittingly captured both Sterling brothers" fascination like no other ever had.

Jaxon"s stride carried a newfound purpose, his heart thrumming a rhythm that matched the quickening pace of his steps. She was a vision, ethereal and unassuming amidst the grandeur that framed her. The sight of her here, in this sanctum of privilege and pretense, sparked an anticipation within him he hadn"t known he was capable of feeling.

"Leaving already?" he said. He watched her turn, her gaze lifting to meet his. The connection was immediate, an electric charge that danced through the air.

Her proximity was intoxicating, the subtle scent of her omega pheromones wrapping around him like the finest silk. It beckoned him closer, promising sweetness and fire in equal measure. Jaxon found himself surrounded by the essence of Delcy—gentle yet compelling, an allure that whispered directly to his alpha senses.

"Why don"t you join us for a few drinks?" The invitation flowed from him with ease, even as his pulse quickened at the sight of her lips parting—a small, unconscious gesture that sent his thoughts spiraling.

She licked her lip, and Jaxon"s attention was ensnared by the simple act. A primal part of him longed to explore that plump flesh with his own mouth, to claim what he suddenly realized he wanted with a fervor that bordered on possession.

"I'm actually here looking for my friends," she said, her voice threading through the haze of his desire.

"Your friends?" He needed to keep her talking, keep her here with him. The notion of her leaving felt unacceptable—intolerable even. "Hmm…" He tilted his head, feigning curiosity. "Were they invited?"

She nodded with an innocent certainty that tugged at something deep within him. "Yes, Lydia said we were invited to this private viewing room?" Her voice lilted upward in confusion. "This is a private viewing room, right? It said Private Gallery outside."

His smile was instinctive, a response to her confusion and to the surge of protectiveness he felt for her. "Yes, this is a private viewing room. Lydia, did you say?"

"Yes, Lydia," she confirmed. "Lydia Hamill."

"And you are?" He already knew her name. It had been etched into his mind since seven years ago when he first laid eyes on her. But hearing it from her lips would be another piece of her given freely to him.

She licked her lip again, a gesture that seemed as natural as breathing to her but was unbearably sensual to Jaxon"s heightened senses. His inner alpha purred in contentment at the thought of those lips whispering his name in the quiet moments yet to come.

"Delcy… Delcy Charlton."

"Delcy," he repeated softly, rolling the syllables around his tongue like a caress. "That's a beautiful name."

Her fingers brushed strands of hair behind her ear, an action laden with vulnerability and grace, and Jaxon found himself enchanted by every nuance of her behavior.

"Thanks, I guess?"

He extended his hand toward her, a silent offer laced with hope and an undercurrent of need. She hesitated for a heartbeat before stepping back, a silent denial that should have stung but instead only fueled his resolve.

"Delcy," he continued smoothly as if unfazed by the rebuff while internally grappling with an unfamiliar urgency. "It seems I have forgotten my manners. My apologies." He bowed slightly, the gesture both respectful and laden with intent. "The name's Jaxon Sterling. Would you care to join me and my brother for a drink? Then I will aid you in finding your friend Lydia."

Her refusal was polite but firm, a testament to the strength beneath her soft exterior. Yet before she could leave, before she could slip through his fingers, fate intervened.

"Delcy!" Lydia"s voice sliced through the moment like a blade through silk.

Jaxon observed as Lydia swept into their midst with familiarity born from long association, her embrace one part affectionate greeting and two parts ownership.

Lydia appraised him openly, a look Jaxon returned without falter even as distaste curled within him at what lay behind those calculating eyes.

"Oh, hello." Lydia feigned ignorance well but not well enough for someone accustomed to reading beneath surfaces as Jaxon was.

He offered a chuckle, light but edged with certainty, as he took Lydia"s hand in greeting. Her palm felt cool against his warmth. She sought control in this game they were playing, unaware she had already lost.

"Jaxon Sterling," he introduced himself once more before shifting focus back to Delcy, an unspoken claim passing between them under Lydia"s watchful gaze.

Lydia's coaxing tone directed at Delcy brought forth another round of nervous hair-tucking, a telltale sign Jaxon found endearing beyond reason.

Reluctantly yielding to peer pressure, and perhaps curiosity, Delcy agreed to join them for drinks.

Jaxon savored this victory, however small it might be, extending his hand once again and watching Delcy deliberate before accepting it. His thumb grazed over delicate knuckles before he lifted their joined hands, his lips brushing over soft skin while holding her captive gaze, an assertion wrapped in chivalry that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

As they approached where Colton waited, the twin mirror image of power and desire, he introduced them with pride swelling in his chest like a battle hymn.

"Ladies, meet my twin brother, Colton Sterling."

The weight of Colton"s gaze upon Delcy was tangible, an acknowledgment that transcended mere sight, a recognition deep and unspoken between brothers who now shared an uncharted path forward, one they would tread together in pursuit of making Delcy irrevocably theirs.