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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 gaze was 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.
