“A phone. A phone with important information I was about to send to you. I wastryingto—”
“And what is the rule about phones, Adrian?” Sterling pressed against his collarbone a little more firmly, if only to see the storm in Adrian’s eyes gain force. How far could he push before the storm clouds burst and the downpourbegan?
Some of the club members who’d stopped to look in on Marcus and Lucian had turned to watch what was going on between Sterling and Adrian. Sterling felt their gazes, and he welcomed them. The no phone policy was enforced to protect privacy—it was fitting that he should takeAdrian’saway.
“There is a zero-tolerance policy on the use of phones or other electronic devices while in the club.” Adrian’s voice was tight with anger, like if he let himself relax, the true force of his vitriol would spill out and decimate whatever was initspath.
Sterling wasn’tafraid.
Storms never lastedforever.
“And so what does the fact that I’m holding your phone in my hand right now mean?” Sterling spoke low, allowing the force of his voice to rattle the air between them. Still, Adrian did notlookaway.
“It means that you’re not interested in listening to me explainmyself.”
“It means that I’ll see you in my office so we can discuss the condition of your membership. I look after the wellbeing of all the men and women who play here, and if something is threatening their enjoyment, I don’t take to it very kindly.” Sterling leaned so close he could feel the inward pull in the air between them when Adrian drew breath. “Iwillsee you upstairs. Don’t keep mewaiting.”
It was hard to hear over the sounds from the dance floor downstairs, but Sterling could have sworn he heard Adrian’s breath hitch. The tiny noise was delicate, stretched like spiderwebs weighed down by dew. But when Sterling pulled away from Adrian and let his arm drop from his chest, there was no sign of fragility on Adrian’s face. Thin lips and narrowed eyes hadn’t given way to a wide-eyed, timid stare. Adrian was every bit as enraged as he’d been secondsbefore.
Omega or not, hewouldn’tfold.
Sterling took a step back, holding Adrian’s gaze for another prolonged moment before he cut contact entirely to walk away. With the spectacle going on in room nine, Clarissa wouldn’t need help until later. It would give Sterling long enough to figure out exactly what he wanted to do about the situation withAdrian.
The night hadn’t gone as he’d anticipated—but that didn’t mean that it had gone wrong. The situation was more than unfortunate, but what he’d learned from it excited him in ways he wasn’t ready to fullyunderstand.
Adrian was gorgeous—he’d always been—but the mouth on him? The passion in his eyes and the confidence in his soul? That was what set him apart from any of the other omegas who called The Shepherd home. It made him stick out amongst a sea of other beautiful bodies, and it was what made Sterlingwanthim.
He’d guide his blacksheephome.
2
Adrian
Two wide,solid wood doors barricaded the short hallway atop the landing from The Shepherd’s third floor. Adrian stood before them, taking in their rich mahogany color and their exquisite carpentry. Semi-circular frosted glass rings on either side of the door joined to form a complete circle, bisected by the minuscule gap left where thedoorsmet.
Light shone through the frosted glass from the other side, but Adrian couldn’t make out anything more than that. He didn’t need to—he already knew all he neededtoknow.
What lay behind the mahogany doors wasn’t a secret. The Shepherd’s second floor was the last floor accessible to club members. What lay above was accessible to one man, and one manalone.
On Adrian’s second week at The Shepherd, while exploring the hallway that housed the public rooms, he’d found the very same staircase he now stood on. A face he couldn’t remember had told him, in passing, that the space beyond those doors belonged to the shepherdhimself.
Sterling.
He’d built a home above the debauchery happening just a floor below. A throne for a god. For a while, Adrian had been under the impression that Sterling really was all-powerful.
Now he knewbetter.
Sterling flitted around the club from time to time, making sure everything was up to his standards, but Adrian rarely saw him play. Whatever secrets Sterling housed, and whatever private parties he threw behind locked doors, Adrian had never been privileged to. Adrian had never been important enough to so much as ping Sterling’s radar. It had always gotten under Adrian’s skin, stinging in a subtle, inexplicable way when Sterling nodded to him or exchanged pleasantries before moving on—like Sterling didn’t think he was important enough for his time. And now, with the phone debacle underway, Adrian thought even less of him thanbefore.
FuckSterling.
Fuck him for not wanting tolisten.
Fuck him for jumping toconclusions.
The footage on Adrian’s phone had been taken for a purpose. Marcus was skirting the rules, and Adrian wasn’t going to let that fly. Men like Marcus and Sterling—men of power, of influence, and of blessed genetic origins—didn’t know what it was like to be the underdog. They didn’t know the horrors of being bound by an inflexible set of rules while others were waived oftheirsins.
But Adrian knew, and he wasn’t going to standforit.
