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Lucian glanced at Xavier, who seemed unusually buoyant as they ran side by side on the treadmills. A knowing smile played across the brother's lips, the kind that hinted at a delicious secret he was barely containing. Lucian arched an inquisitive brow, his curiosity piqued.
“What's got you smiling like you've hacked into the mainframe of happiness?” Lucian asked, his voice steady despite the exertion. “All right, out with it.”
Xavier glanced over. “I received a text from Asa. She mentioned she'll be performing at The Velvet Melody,” he said, his voice a low rumble that barely carried over the rhythmic pounding of their feet, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.
Dominic's strides on the treadmill faltered for a fraction of a second before he regained his rhythm. His head whipped toward them, his brow furrowing as he drank in Xavier's words. “She's texting you about her performance schedule?” There was an unmistakable edge to his tone, a possessive undercurrent that Lucian recognized all too well.
Lucian chuckled, his gaze dancing between his two brothers. “Sounds like someone's jealous,” he teased, unable to resist needling their eldest sibling.
Dominic's jaw tightened, but he didn't rise to the bait. “I'm not,” he stated, his voice a low growl. “I'm merely considering how we can use this information to our advantage in getting closer to Asa.” His eyes narrowed at Xavier. “I take it you intend to go?”
“Of course,” Xavier replied without hesitation. “Though I suspect it's a private party. Invitation only.”
Lucian pondered this for a moment, his mind rapidly processing the implications. A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as realization dawned. “The Velvet Melody… Ah! It's a masquerade party,” he said, his voice laced with certainty. “We received an invitation months ago, but declined due to our schedules.”
Dominic switched off his treadmill and stepped down, wiping sweat from his brow with a towel draped over his shoulders. He fixed Lucian with an expectant look. “Luc, phone them and tell them we're coming to the party.”
A laugh escaped Lucian as he slowed his own treadmill to a stop. “Of course, brother.” His fingers were already itching to make the necessary arrangements, his mind spinning with possibilities for how this night could unfold.
For the next hour, the brothers continued with their workout, transitioning from one exercise to another—dumbbell presses, deadlifts, and rows—forging their bodies into even more formidable versions of themselves. Lucian reveled in the burn of exertion; it grounded him, honed his resolve for the negotiations and diplomacy that filled his days.
Dominic's powerful frame glistened with sweat, his biceps straining against the resistance with each controlled movement, the weights clanking in rhythm with his measured breaths. Across the room, Xavier's lean physique cut an equally impressive figure as he flowed through a series of yoga poses. His muscles flexed and released with fluid grace, a stark contrast to Dominic's brute force approach. Yet, beneath Xavier's serene exterior, Lucian recognized the steely focus that matched his brothers' intensity.
As their session drew to a close, Lucian felt the familiar rush of endorphins coursing through his veins. He relished the burn in his muscles, a tangible reminder of the dedication required to maintain their dominance. With a final series of cooldown stretches, the brothers brought their workout to a close, their bodies glistening with the hard-earned spoils of their labor.
Lucian retreated to his private quarters, peeling off his sweat-soaked clothes as he made his way to the en suite bathroom. The spacious marble oasis beckoned, offering respite from the rigors of their morning ritual. He stepped under the cascading stream of hot water, allowing the tension to melt away as rivulets traced the contours of his toned physique.
As the steam enveloped him, Lucian's thoughts drifted to the evening's masquerade party and the tantalizing prospect of encountering Asa. A grin played across his lips as he toweled off, already envisioning the delicious possibilities that awaited them.
Clad in a sleek charcoal suit that hugged his lean frame, Lucian retrieved the ornate invitation from his desk drawer. He ran his fingers over the embossed lettering, savoring the weight of the card and the promise it held. With a few taps on his phone, he dialed the number listed for the event organizers.
A polished voice answered, and Lucian wasted no time in asserting his presence. “This is Lucian Davenport,” he stated, his tone smooth yet commanding.
The organizer's voice perked up instantly at the mention of his name. “Mr. Davenport! What an unexpected pleasure,” came the enthusiastic reply.
Lucian could practically hear the smile in the man's voice as he continued. “I know it's short notice, but my brothers and I have changed our minds. We would like to attend your masquerade party tonight.”
There was a momentary pause on the other end, followed by a flurry of excitement. “Mr. Davenport, it's an honor! We're absolutely thrilled to have you and your esteemed brothers in attendance. Your presence will make this evening truly unforgettable.”
Lucian couldn't help but chuckle at the effusive response, reveling in the power their name wielded. “Of course. We'll require masks befitting our status. Have them delivered to the penthouse by three o'clock.”
“Absolutely, sir. The finest masquerade masks will be hand-delivered promptly. We're honored to host you and your family.”
With a curt nod, Lucian ended the call, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. He strolled out of his bedroom, the lingering scent of his cologne trailing behind him like an invisible tether. His steps carried him toward the bustling energy of the dining room, where the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sizzle of a hot pan greeted him. The spacious room, with its long oak table and high-backed chairs, served as the morning gathering place for the brothers.
Dominic and Xavier were already seated at the table, their eyes focused on the tablets in front of them as they consumed their morning meal. Dominic's brow was furrowed in concentration, while Xavier sported a pensive expression, his fingers gliding across the screen.
A chef moved with practiced ease around the kitchen island, flipping omelets and toasting bread. Mrs. Eldridge bustled around the table, ensuring their plates were filled with a sumptuous array of breakfast delicacies. Harris hovered nearby, ready to refill their coffee cups at a moment's notice.
As Lucian approached, both brothers glanced up, their expressions shifting subtly at his arrival.
“Good morning, Master Lucian,” Mrs. Eldridge greeted, her voice carrying the familiar lilt that always seemed to brighten the room.
Lucian nodded in acknowledgment, his lips curving into a warm smile. “Morning, Mrs. Eldridge,” he replied as he took his usual seat across from his brothers.
Harris poured the dark liquid into Lucian's cup with a precise tilt, the rich aroma wafting up to greet him. “Will there be anything else, Master Lucian?” he inquired.
Lucian shook his head as he picked up his cup. “This is perfect, thank you.”
