Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
The crystal chandeliers of Fairfax Mansion cast pools of honeyed light across the ballroom floor. Penny squeezed my arm as we stepped through the grand entrance, both of us pausing to absorb the transformation of the space.
The ornate decorations we’d crafted alongside Adelaide and the planning committee surpassed expectation.
Burgundy dahlias and golden maple leaves adorned every surface, their rich autumn colors a perfect backdrop for tonight’s fundraiser.
A string quartet played Mozart from the corner, the elegant notes drifting above the buzz of arriving guests.
My fingers traced the intricate brocade of my great-grandfather’s vest. Penny’s alterations had transformed the antique piece to fit my omega frame, though the silk still carried traces of an alpha’s bold confidence.
The matching burgundy tie, once belonging to my other paternal great-grandfather Elijah Sterling, complemented my polished Oxfords perfectly.
“Stop fidgeting,” Penny whispered, his own emerald suit drawing appreciative glances. “You look incredible in that ensemble.”
Adelaide floated toward us in black Dior, the silk rustling with each graceful step.
Her silver bob caught the light, framing those distinctive cat-eye glasses.
Every gesture screamed old money, but her bright eyes sparkled with defiance.
Her brother’s ambivalence to this event appeared to only fuel her determination to make it a success.
“Leo, darling.” She air-kissed my cheeks. “That vest—from the Sterling collection? I believe I recognize it from photos of your great-grandparents’ wedding ceremony.”
I nodded. “Penny worked his magic on it.”
“Isn’t it glorious in Technicolor?” Penny chimed in.
“Speaking of glorious,” Adelaide turned to Penny, whose 1950s bespoke suit emphasized his slim figure. Metallic silver art deco embroidery winked at his wrists. He’d styled his pink hair in classic waves, finishing the ensemble with a pair of sparkling silver stud earrings. “You’re a vision.”
Penny adjusted his lapel with a practiced hand just as Blake Harrington’s smooth baritone sliced through our conversation.
“Well, if it isn’t the darling duo of the Historical District.”
My spine stiffened at the voice. Blake stood there in a pristine navy Armani, his smile a perfect arrangement of white teeth. Dominic towered next to him, expression unreadable.
“Quite the turnout for your little fundraiser.” Blake’s gaze swept over the room, his smirk deepening at the edges.
“I have high hopes that it will be a success,” Adelaide replied, her face tightening as she tilted her head back.
“No doubt about that,” Blake said. His easy grin betrayed none of the guilt I expected from someone whose dastardly plot we’d exposed.
My focus fixed on Dominic. The black Tom Ford suit molded to his powerful frame, his alpha confidence filling the space between us. Warmth spread across my nape as our eyes met.
His eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, the only betrayal of whatever thoughts lurked behind that carefully composed expression. I swallowed hard, trying to maintain my composure while my heart hammered against my ribs.
“I’m so pleased you both could attend tonight’s fundraiser,” Adelaide said, breaking the charged silence. The saccharine quality of her voice barely masked her lack of genuine feeling.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Blake replied smoothly, his grin never faltering.
Dominic shifted beside me, his shoulder nearly brushing mine. “The historical society has done remarkable work,” he said, his rich baritone sending an involuntary shiver through me.
“Yes,” I agreed.
“Those drapes were a pain to pin up,” Penny supplied.
“Quite remarkable,” Adelaide said stiffly.
The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken tension.
I could feel Adelaide’s curious gaze flicking between Dominic and me, no doubt cataloging every microexpression and subtle reaction.
The surrounding conversation and soft string quartet seemed to fade around us, creating a bubble where only we existed.
After what felt like an eternity, I cleared my throat, desperate to break the spell before I did something embarrassing, like blurt out something I’d regret.
“Care for a drink?” Dominic’s deep voice cut through the ambient chatter in the room.
Penny and I both dipped our heads in acceptance. Dominic turned toward the bar. His suit jacket pulled taut against his wide shoulders, drawing my attention like a magnet.
“Allow me to assist.” Blake fell into step beside Dominic.
“Such a considerate alpha.” Penny’s whisper carried a hint of vinegar beneath the sweetness. Then his attention shifted to the far corner where two more alphas had just arrived.
Sebastian and Victor Fairfax cut striking figures in their contrasting suits—Sebastian’s old-money Savile Row versus Victor’s modern designer piece.
“I didn’t know your nephews would be here tonight,” Penny whispered.
“Ah, yes… those two. I suppose you both have already heard about their very public row at Fashion Week?”
Before Penny or I could answer, Adelaide continued.
“They’ve been in a spat ever since Sebastian took control of the family textile business.
Their latest quarrel erupted over Victor’s plans to modernize the company’s image—a change that apparently went over as well as polyester at a silk convention. ”
My gaze drifted toward the table where Adelaide’s nephews sat at a careful distance between them, underlying tension evident in their rigid postures.
I glanced at Adelaide. “Those two used to be inseparable in back in college, didn’t they?”
She adjusted her emerald brooch. “This little cold war between them is new—something about a disputed design credit, I believe.” She lowered her voice. “Victor claims Sebastian took credit for his concept. The industry’s been buzzing about it for weeks.”
“Really? I tuned into their last runway show.” Penny bounced on his toes. “Those velvet smoking jackets with art deco embroidery? I’d sell my firstborn for one… not really, but you know what I mean.”
My observation broke as Dominic approached, his presence drawing every omega instinct to attention. Blake trailed behind, two champagnes in hand and a calculating expression playing on his lips.
“Speaking of fashion,” Adelaide clapped her palms together. “What’s your opinion of these gentlemen? Quite striking, wouldn’t you say?”
“You look wonderful, Penny.” Dominic said as he handed my friend a flute of bubbling champagne.
I watched Penny raise his glass with theatrical flair.
Dominic’s silvery gaze moved deliberately over me. His voice rumbled low as he offered me the second glass of champagne he held. “And you look...”
“Delicious,” Blake supplied helpfully, earning a warning glance from Dominic that made my skin tingle with electric awareness.
Blake laughed. The man lacked any trace of remorse. “Circa 1930s suits you perfectly, Mr. Sterling-Hart. And green is most definitely your color, Mr. Lee.”
“Penny dressed all of tonight’s auction participants.” Adelaide gave Blake a pointed look before turning her warm smile on me. “And both Leo and Penny helped transform Fairfax Mansion into the beautiful spectacle you see. The historical society couldn’t be more pleased with the turnout.”
Penny nodded enthusiastically. “We’ve already raised enough from the silent auction to restore the fountain in the square. Maybe we can finally fix those loose cobblestones on Maple Street too.”
“Pouring money into crumbling buildings and uneven streets,” Blake drawled, swirling his champagne with calculated disinterest. His smile didn’t reach his eyes as he added, “Though I must admit, this crumbling estate does make for an entertaining museum piece.”
I forced a polite smile, fighting the urge to dump my drink over his perfectly coiffed head. “The district’s history is worth preserving, Mr. Harrington. Some things can’t be measured in profit margins.”
Adelaide beamed at me approvingly while tension crackled in the air between us all, palpable enough to slice through with a knife.
Margaret Tang’s voice abruptly cut through the crowd, calling the auction to order. Penny squeezed my arm before we separated to take our places among the other participants. Anticipation filled the ballroom, a heady mix of nervousness and excitement.
My heart thundered as I watched Margaret ascend the stage and take a microphone. Soon it would be my turn on that stage. A bead of sweat trickled down my back—the room suddenly felt warmer than it had moments before.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Millcrest Historical Society’s Charity Bachelor and Bachelorette Auction,” Margaret announced, her voice carrying confidently through the ballroom. Her red silk cheongsam caught the chandelier light. “I’m Margaret Tang, your host for tonight’s festivities.”
She paused as polite applause rippled through the crowd. I spotted Dominic across the room, his cool-gray eyes finding mine instantly. He gave me a subtle nod that somehow calmed my racing pulse.
“Before we begin, let me quickly review our bidding procedures,” Margaret continued. “Each of you has been provided with a numbered paddle. When you wish to place a bid, simply raise your paddle so our spotters can see it clearly. Please keep your paddle raised until your bid is acknowledged.”
She gestured to several volunteers positioned strategically around the room. “Our spotters will be watching carefully, but if you’re concerned your bid hasn’t been seen, a gentle wave is sufficient—no need for enthusiastic gymnastics.” This earned a ripple of laughter from the crowd.
“Remember,” Margaret added with a warm smile, “every dollar raised tonight goes directly to preserving the architectural treasures of our beloved Historical District. Now, shall we begin?”