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colton
Colton Sterling sat in his sprawling office, a temple of dark wood and leather that seemed to echo with the weight of decisions made within its walls. The view from the floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a city pulsating with life, a stark contrast to the solitude he felt amidst his empire.
His assistant, a middle-aged beta named Emma with an impeccable sense of time and priority, hovered nearby, tapping away on a tablet. Colton barely glanced at her as he signed documents, each one an affirmation of his power and responsibility.
“That's the last of them, sir,” Emma said as she collected the papers.
Colton nodded, dismissing her with a wave.
Once the door clicked shut behind Emma, Colton leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting over the cityscape as he contemplated the monotony that had become his life—endless work with fleeting moments of satisfaction.
His life had become a never-ending cycle of work and responsibility, and he longed for something, anything, to break that monotony. He needed to let loose again, to indulge in that reckless behavior with Jaxon, as they often did when they felt the need to escape their respective duties.
He shifted his attention and frowned at the pile of files needing his review. He sighed, massaging his forehead as he felt the tension escalating. The pristine glass tumbler of scotch sitting on his desk beckoned him. Colton reached for it, downing it in one go, hoping it would help alleviate some of his fatigue. It did, and he continued working, losing himself in the endless tasks that consumed the day.
As CEO of Sterling Enterprises, there was always more to do—proposals to review, contracts to approve, and meetings to prepare for. The work never ended.
Two hours later, he finally leaned back, rubbing his eyes. He loosened his tie and stared blankly out the window.
He needed a good fucking, preferably with a gorgeous alpha or beta. Not omega. Never an omega. Their pheromone was just too intoxicating for him during sex, leading him to lose all reasoning and control, and Colton liked to be in control.
Noticing how dark it had gotten, he checked his watch—seven o'clock. His employees had long gone home to their families and lives outside the office. Here he remained, alone again.
He stood and walked to the bar cart in the corner, pouring himself another glass of Scotch. He swirled the amber liquid as he gazed out at the city lights twinkling below.
What he wouldn't give to break free from the daily grind. To escape the tedium and responsibilities that chained him to his desk, the same obligations that had been thrust upon him and his siblings and cousins when they were just youngsters, binding them to the Sterling Dynasty. He craved excitement, a departure from the ceaseless conventions and dull tasks, a shift in rhythm, even if fleeting. Naturally, the kind of thrill he and Jaxon craved was always unconventional and unhinged, not what the average person would deem suitable. It was the type that the exceedingly affluent wouldn't think twice about upon hearing.
The door swung open, and Jaxon sauntered in with his characteristic swagger.
“Holy shit!” the younger twin said, flashing a grin that seemed to light up the room. “You look like you need rescuing from your own life.”
Colton raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Jaxon collapsed into one of the leather chairs across from Colton’s desk, casual in his intrusion. “Here once again, you work late into the evening. What a hardworking brother you are.”
Colton sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You're looking excited. What's up?”
Jaxon's smile broadened, his gaze sparkling with mirth. As he casually draped one leg over the other, he said, “I've been busting my tail, being the COO of this godforsaken Sterling Enterprises, because letting down my boss isn't an option.” His eyes locked meaningfully with Colton's.
Colton arched an eyebrow. Strictly speaking, he wasn't Jaxon's superior, but his role as CEO placed him above his brother in the hierarchy, prompting Jaxon's playful references to him as the chief. It was a post he had taken over from their grandfather, Matthew Sterling. The old fogy was contentedly retired now, living without a care in his multimillion-dollar abode on his isle in the Caribbean.
“Exhausted and disheartened, I resigned myself to another afternoon toiling away, until Mike waltzed in and surprised me with these.” Jaxon gestured and revealed a pair of opulent-looking cards.
“And they are?” Colton asked.
“Invitations, my dear brother,” Jaxon said. “To an exclusive party.”
“Whose party?”
“Why, Roman's, of course,” Jaxon said. “So, you coming? It's next Saturday.”
“I'll pass,” Colton said. “Like I do every time that pompous ass throws one of his exclusive events.”
Roman was an egotistic alpha who loved flaunting his wealth and status. His parties were flexing contests for the city’s rich and powerful alphas, all preening peacocks showing off. Colton wanted no part of it.
Jaxon gave him an exasperated look. “Come on, it’ll be a good time. Open bar and tons of hot girls. What more could you want?”
“A root canal?” Colton retorted. “I’d rather do anything than spend time with Roman and his cronies.”
