The chime of the private elevator was the only warning Julian got before the air in the foyer was poisoned by a scent that didn't belong. It was a synthetic, cloying musk—something designed to mimic an Omega in heat but failing miserably. It was the scent of a distraction who was trying too hard.
Julian didn't move. He sat at the black marble island in the kitchen, his fingers wrapped around a glass of ice-cold water. He was still wearing the black tailored trousers from the gallery, but he had discarded the red silk shirt. Now, he wore only a white t-shirt that stretched over his shoulders, the platinum ring on his left hand mocking the sterile perfection of the room.
Kaelen walked into the living area first. He'd shed his blazer and loosened his tie, his Alpha pheromones thick with a restless, jagged edge. Behind him trailed Leo. The model was dressed in silk trousers that were practically transparent and a sheer shirt that left nothing to the imagination. He looked like a high-end toy, a gilded bird brought into the cage for the predator's amusement.
Leo stopped when he saw Julian. His eyes flicked to the ring, then to the lethal, golden beauty of the man sitting at the counter. A small, nasty smile touched his lips.
"I thought you said the staff went home at midnight, Kaelen," Leo purred, his voice pitching high and sweet.
Kaelen stopped at the bar, not looking at Julian. He reached for a crystal decanter of bourbon, his knuckles white as he gripped the glass. "He's not staff, Leo. He's... furniture. I told him to stay in the guest wing, but it seems he has a problem with following directions."
Julian turned the stool slowly, his amber eyes raking over Leo with a clinical, devastating indifference. He didn't look angry; he looked bored.
"I'm the head of security for this penthouse, Leo," Julian said, his voice a low, melodic hum that made the model's smile falter. "And as the legal husband of the man paying you for your time, I have a vested interest in who enters this space. Kaelen has a habit of bringing in assets that haven't been properly vetted."
"Kaelen!" Leo huffed, stepping closer to the Alpha and pressing his chest against Kaelen's arm. "Is he always this... intense? It's ruining the mood."
Kaelen finally turned his head. His blue eyes were like shards of glass as they landed on Julian. The Alpha was in full control now, his mouth curled into a cruel, dismissive sneer.
"The mood is whatever I decide it is," Kaelen rasped. He reached out and grabbed Leo by the waist, pulling him flush against his side. It was a vulgar, possessive move—one designed to elicit a scream of jealousy from Julian. "Leo, why don't you go into the master suite? The bed is far more comfortable than this kitchen."
Leo giggled, casting a triumphant look over his shoulder at Julian before disappearing down the hallway toward Kaelen's wing.
The silence that followed was a physical weight. Kaelen downed his bourbon in one swallow, the liquid burning a path down his throat. He set the glass on the counter with a sharp clack and started to follow Leo.
"You really are pathetic, Kaelen," Julian's voice cut through the air, cool and sharp as a blade.
Kaelen stopped. He turned, his Alpha presence flaring in a violent wave of cedar-wood and storms. He marched toward Julian, stopping only when he was inches away, his shadow looming over the Omega.
"Watch your mouth, St. Claire," Kaelen hissed. "You're living on my charity. If I want to fuck someone else while you listen from the hallway, that is my prerogative. You agreed to the contract. You agreed to the status. You didn't agree to my loyalty."
Julian stood up, refusing to be towered over. He was shorter than Kaelen, but his energy was concentrated, a sun-fire that wouldn't be eclipsed.
"Loyalty? I don't give a damn about your loyalty, Kaelen. I care about your dignity. You brought that... thing... into my home to try and hurt me? To see if I'd cry?" Julian let out a short, dry laugh, stepping into Kaelen's personal space. "You're so desperate to break me that you're willing to settle for a cheap imitation. It's embarrassing."
Kaelen's hand shot out, his fingers gripping Julian's chin, forcing him to look up. The tension was a ghost in the room, ignored by the raw, biological friction between them.
"You think you're so much better than him?" Kaelen whispered, his voice a low, terrifying growl. "You're just as much of a tool as he is. I bought you both. The only difference is, I actually enjoy his company. I look at you and I see a debt. I see a mistake my father made that I'm forced to clean up."
Julian didn't flinch. He reached up, his hand covering Kaelen's on his chin. He didn't pull the hand away; he squeezed it, his amber eyes burning with a golden light.
"Then go to him, Kaelen," Julian whispered back, his breath warm against Kaelen's lips. "Go fuck him. Try to drown out the scent of clementines with his cheap perfume. Try to pretend that he's the one who makes your blood boil. But we both know the truth."
"And what truth is that?"
"That you're terrified of me," Julian purred, his thumb brushing over Kaelen's knuckles. "You're terrified that if you actually touched me—really touched me—you wouldn't be the 'the alpha' anymore. You'd just be a man. And you've spent your whole life being a monster, Kaelen. You don't know how to be anything else."
Kaelen's pupils blown wide, his gaze dropping to Julian's mouth. For a second, the hatred was eclipsed by a raw, vulgar hunger. He wanted to claim that mouth. He wanted to bite the defiance right out of him.
The sound of Leo's voice calling Kaelen's name from the master suite shattered the moment.
Kaelen shoved Julian back, his chest heaving. He looked at Julian like he was an infection he couldn't purge.
"Stay in your wing, St. Claire," Kaelen ground out, his voice thick with a dark, uncontrolled heat. "If I see your face again tonight, I'll make sure you regret every word that just came out of your mouth."
Kaelen turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall.
Julian didn't go to his wing.
He sat in the living room, the lights dimmed to a low, amber glow. He could hear the muffled sounds of breaths —the laughter, the heavy thud of a headboard against the wall, the rhythmic sounds of Kaelen's forced enthusiasm.
Each sound was a needle under Julian's skin. The jealousy was a cold, bitter poison, but he refused to let it show. He sat with a glass of Scotch, his eyes fixed on the city skyline, a silent, golden statue of defiance.
He thinks this hurts me, Julian thought, his fingers tightening around the glass. He thinks he's winning.
He waited. One hour. Two.
Finally, the elevator chimed again. Leo emerged from the hallway, looking ruffled and satisfied, a smug grin on his face as he spotted Julian still in the living room.
"He's asleep," Leo whispered, pausing by the sofa. He leaned down, his scent clashing horribly with the room's elegance. "He's a bit rough, isn't he? But I suppose you wouldn't know. He mentioned you were... strictly for show."
Julian didn't look up from his glass. "Get out, Leo. Before I decide that your security clearance is a threat to the Thorne estate. And tell your agency to send the bill to the office. I'm sure Kaelen's accountants will enjoy the entertainment expense."