Saturday Night, 7:30 PM.
The Sterling Mansion was buzzing with activity. The entire family was dressed in black-tie attire for the Mayor's Charity Dinner.
Declan looked sharp in a tuxedo. Even Grandpa Arthur was wearing his vintage suit.
Elian, however, was lying on the sofa in his oversized pajamas, holding an ice pack to his head.
"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Eleanor asked worriedly, touching his forehead. "We can stay back if you're sick."
"No, no!" Elian said quickly (too quickly). "You guys go. It's just a small headache. I'll sleep it off. Have fun!"
Noah narrowed his eyes. "You look fine to me."
"I'm dying inside, Noah. Go," Elian groaned theatrically.
Finally, they left. The heavy oak doors closed. The limousines drove away.
Elian threw the ice pack across the room.
"FREEDOM!" he shouted.
He ran to the kitchen.
"Popcorn! Extra butter! Chocolate! Netflix!"
He set up his fortress on the living room rug: A mountain of snacks, a cozy blanket, and the TV remote.
"This is the life," Elian sighed, stuffing his mouth with popcorn. "No villains. No drama. Just peace."
DING-DONG.
The grand doorbell echoed through the empty house like a gong.
Elian froze. "Who is that? The family forgot something?"
He crept to the door and looked at the security screen.
His eyes widened in horror.
It wasn't his family.
It was a Neon Yellow Jeep parked in the driveway. And five people were waving at the camera.
The Squad.
The Kidnapping
"Open up, Cinderella!" Chloe's voice blasted through the intercom. "We know you're in there eating junk food!"
"Go away!" Elian shouted at the screen. "I have the flu! It's contagious!"
"We have the antidote!" Milo yelled. "It's called Vodka!"
"I'm calling security!" Elian threatened.
"Too late, I already beat your guard at Arm Wrestling!" Jax's voice boomed. "He let us in!"
Elian groaned. Grandpa shouldn't have bonded with Jax.
The front door burst open. (Apparently, they knew the code too—Ren is a hacker, after all).
The Squad marched into the grand foyer. They were dressed to kill.
Chloe in sequins, Jax in a tight shirt, Liam in a smart blazer, Ren in cool streetwear, and Milo in... well, glitter.
"Get him," Chloe ordered, pointing at Elian in his pajamas.
"No! Wait! My popcorn!" Elian shrieked as Jax scooped him up over his shoulder.
"This is a violation of human rights!" Elian kicked his legs. "Put me down, you giant!"
"You're coming to the club," Chloe announced, throwing a garment bag at Liam. "And you are wearing this."
The Makeover
They dragged him to the guest room.
Elian saw the outfit Chloe brought.
Sheer Black Silk Shirt.
Tight Silver Leather Pants.
"Absolutely not," Elian crossed his arms. "My brothers will kill me. My grandfather will disown me. I look like a stripper."
"You look like a Rock God," Chloe corrected. "Put it on, or Jax dresses you."
"Fine!" Elian grabbed the clothes. "But I hate you all."
Ten minutes later, Elian walked out.
The room went dead silent.
The black silk was translucent, hinting at his pale skin and slender waist. The silver pants fit like a second skin. His messy black hair fell over his violet eyes.
He looked dangerous. Ethereal. Forbidden.
"Okay," Milo whispered, holding his chest. "If I wasn't your friend, I would hit on you."
"Statistically," Liam adjusted his glasses, "You are the hottest person in the room."
"Let's go," Jax grabbed Elian's arm before he could run. "To the club!"
"NOX" (The Galaxy)
The neon yellow stopped in front of a massive black building. There was no sign, just a glowing purple hologram projecting the word: NOX.
"Welcome to the Grand Opening," Chloe squealed, dragging Elian out.
The club was underground.
As they walked in, Elian gasped.
NOX was breathtaking. The walls were made of black obsidian stone. The ceiling was a giant digital screen displaying a swirling galaxy of purple and blue stars. The floor was made of glass with smoke swirling underneath.
It felt like partying in outer space.
The club was dark, loud, and smelled of expensive perfume and smoke.
Elian clung to Jax like a koala. "It's too loud. I want my blanket.
"Welcome to Hell," Milo screamed over the bass, live-streaming. "It's gorgeous!"
They moved to the bar.
"Open Bar for the first hour!" the DJ announced.
Milo screamed. "Did he say OPEN BAR?"
Chloe grabbed three cocktails. "Jax, shots! Now!"
They started drinking like tomorrow didn't exist.
Even Liam (the responsible one) was holding two blue drinks. "Statistically," Liam slurred, adjusting his crooked glasses, "alcohol improves dance coordination."
Elian was forced to drink too. The blue shots burned, then turned into warmth.
Soon, the whole group was a mess.
Jax was shirtless, arm-wrestling a bouncer.
Chloe and Milo were dancing on a table.
Ren was asleep on a speaker.
Liam was explaining physics to a stripper.
No one was watching Elian. They were too busy drowning in the Galaxy.
Elian took one. Then another. The Blue Tequila burned his throat but warmed his blood.
Soon, the "shy" Elian faded. The "tipsy" Elian arrived.
He walked to the dance floor.
The music was hypnotic. Elian closed his eyes and started to move.
His body was fluid, like water. He swayed his hips, his sheer shirt catching the strobe lights.
People stopped dancing to watch him.
Men and women stared.
"Who is that?"
"Look at his waist."
"Is that a model?"
A guy tried to grab Elian's arm. "Hey beautiful, dance with me?"
Elian spun away, laughing, lost in the music. "No thanks! I'm dancing with the stars!"
He was glowing. He was the center of attention.
Elian was dizzy. The lights were too bright. The crowd was too close.
"Bathroom," Elian mumbled. "Need quiet."
He stumbled away from his friends. He saw a velvet curtain.
Ah, a quiet room, he thought drunkenly.
He pushed past the heavy curtains.
The VVIP Room of NOX was not a place for partying. It was a place for power.
Inside, the music was muffled. The room was filled with smoke and tension.
Kieran and Kaelen Blackwood sat on the central black velvet sofa.
Surrounding them were 10 dangerous-looking men—business partners from Russia and their bodyguards.
The table was full of expensive alcohol and contract papers.
"Sign the deal," Kieran said coldly, tapping the paper. "We don't have all night."
The atmosphere was deadly serious. Even the bodyguards held their breath.
Suddenly, the heavy curtains were pushed aside.
A boy stumbled in.
He was wearing a Sheer Black Silk Shirt and Silver Leather Pants. He looked like a lost, glittering star.
"Oops," Elian mumbled, swaying.
"Where is the bathroom?"
The Russian bodyguards stood up, reaching for their guns.
"Sit down," Kaelen commanded them instantly.
Elian didn't notice the danger. He saw the empty spot on the sofa (which wasn't actually empty, Kaelen was shifting).
"Ah, soft spot," Elian giggled.
He walked forward, tripped over a bodyguard's foot, and fell.
Straight onto Kaelen Blackwood's lap.
The room went dead silent.
A stranger had just sat on the lap of the most dangerous man in the city. The Russian partners gasped.
Elian sighed happily, wrapping his arms around Kaelen's neck to steady himself. He wiggled his thighs to get comfortable.
"Mmm... cozy," Elian hummed.
Kaelen froze. His hands instinctively gripped Elian's slender waist to stop him from falling.
Then, the Scent hit him.
Vanilla. Rain. Freesia.
Kaelen's pupils dilated. The rage he usually felt when touched by strangers didn't come. Instead, a wave of pure obsession washed over him.
One of the Russian men stared at Elian's sheer shirt and licked his lips.
Kaelen saw it.
His face twisted into a demonic snarl.
"EYES DOWN!" Kaelen roared. His voice shook the walls.
Every person in the room—the billionaires, the bodyguards, the servers—immediately looked at the floor. No one dared to disobey a direct order from a Blackwood.
Elian blinked, looking around. "Why is everyone looking at their shoes? Did they lose something?"
He looked up at Kaelen. Then he looked at Kieran, who was leaning forward, mesmerized.
Elian poked Kaelen's cheek.
"Wow," Elian slurred, tracing Kaelen's jawline. "You guys are... Super Hot."
Kieran let out a breath he was holding. A small, rare smile touched his lips.
"He thinks we're hot, Kaelen," Kieran murmured.
Kaelen grabbed Elian's chin gently. The purple neon light from the bar hit Elian's face.
Elian opened his eyes wide.
Violet.
Glowing, impossible, breathtaking Violet.
The Twins stared. They forgot the Russians. They forgot the deal.
They were just drinking in his beauty. The boy they had been hunting was sitting right here, calling them hot.
"Elian..." Kaelen whispered, his thumb brushing Elian's soft lip. "You are real."
Elian's mood swung instantly (drunk logic).
He pushed Kaelen's chest.
"Boring!" Elian declared. "Too serious in here! I want to dance!"
He scrambled off Kaelen's lap.
"Bye, hot guys!" Elian waved and sprinted out of the room before Kaelen could grab him.
"Wait!" Kaelen jumped up.