Three Alphas for Christmas

Chapter One: Under the Mistletoe

Amelia Hartley adjusted the diamond cuff on her wrist, the subtle sparkle catching the light as she strode into the Blackwood Industries’ Christmas gala. Her emerald gown, custom-designed and tailored to perfection, flowed like liquid silk around her tall, commanding frame. She was no wallflower; her entrance alone turned heads and quieted conversations.

The weight of countless eyes didn’t faze her—she’d mastered the art of commanding attention without breaking stride. With a tilt of her head, she swept her dark hair over one shoulder, allowing the low cut of her gown to emphasize the collarbone her stylist swore was “a weapon of mass destruction.” She moved like she owned the room because, in many ways, she did.

At thirty, Amelia was the youngest self-made billionairess in the tech world. Her bold decisions and relentless drive had catapulted her from obscurity to global acclaim. Yet tonight, beneath the glittering chandeliers and opulent decorations, she felt the faint tug of melancholy—a reminder that even success couldn’t shield her from the shadows of her past.

The gala was held at The Regency, a historic hotel renowned for its gilded architecture and exclusivity. The ballroom was a vision of decadence, its vaulted ceilings adorned with twinkling fairy lights that mimicked a starlit sky. The towering Christmas tree in the centre of the room was adorned with Swarovski crystals and silver ribbons, reflecting the soft glow of the chandeliers. The air was heavy with the heady scents of pine and mulled wine, mingling with expensive perfumes and colognes.

Laughter and the clinking of glasses echoed around her, the atmosphere one of polished revelry. Yet Amelia remained detached, her sharp mind already analyzing the potential deals and alliances present in the room. Her gaze flitted across the crowd, cataloguing who spoke to whom, which rival executives appeared a little too friendly, and who might be worth approaching later.

She hated events like this, but duty called. Relationships with powerful allies were critical, especially after the relentless attacks on her company earlier in the year. The leaks, the insider betrayals—each event, had forced her to rebuild, all while maintaining a flawless public facade. The stress of it had been unrelenting, but she’d survived. She always survived.

Still, Amelia couldn’t ignore the whispers she caught as she moved deeper into the crowd. Some voices were hushed in awe, and others tinged with envy or scepticism.

“That’s her?” One woman murmured to her companion, eyes wide as they followed Amelia’s every move. “She doesn’t look like someone who clawed her way to the top.”

“She doesn’t have to,” the companion replied dryly. “She’s already there.”

Amelia smirked to herself, pretending not to notice. They weren’t entirely wrong. Years ago, she’d been an outsider—an orphan with nothing but determination and a sharp mind. Cold winters spent alone, poring over library books and scrounging for her next meal, had been her reality. Back then, she’d planned her escape from poverty with the precision of a general plotting a war.

The memories flickered in her mind like the faint hum of a distant melody, persistent but easily ignored. There was no time for weakness tonight.

“Amelia,” a smooth voice called out.

She turned to see Evelyn, her assistant, weaving through the crowd toward her. Evelyn’s normally impeccable appearance was slightly dishevelled, her cheeks flushed as she clutched a clipboard tightly in one hand.

“Blackwood wants to see you,” Evelyn said breathlessly, her tone betraying a hint of urgency. “He’s upstairs in the mezzanine.”

Amelia arched a brow, her red lips curving into a faint smirk. “Of course, he does,” she replied, her tone laced with dry humour. “Let me guess—something critical that couldn’t wait until after I’ve had a drink?”

Evelyn chuckled nervously. “You know how he is. Want me to lead the way?”

“No need,” Amelia said, already stepping toward the grand staircase that led to the mezzanine. Her heels clicked against the marble floor, the sound sharp and deliberate, announcing her approach like a queen entering her court.

The staircase overlooked the entire ballroom, offering an unobstructed view of the glittering festivities. But Amelia wasn’t focused on the grandeur of the scene. Her attention was drawn to the three figures at the base of the stairs, their presence magnetic enough to silence the background noise in her mind.

They weren’t just handsome. They were powerful.

The first man stood tall and broad-shouldered in a tailored black suit that emphasized his athletic build. His blue eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that was almost unsettling, his clean-shaven face both sharp and striking. There was a calm authority in his stance, as though he were used to being obeyed.

The second was rugged in every sense of the word, his sandy blond hair falling haphazardly over a strong brow. A leather jacket contrasted sharply with the black-tie elegance of the event, but he wore it as though he belonged. His green eyes gleamed with mischief, though his posture suggested a man who’d seen and survived danger.

The third was the most casually dressed, his dark blazer open over a crisp shirt and jeans. His warm brown eyes held a spark of humour, and his confident grin hinted at a man who had mastered the art of charm.

Amelia’s gaze swept over them briefly, her expression unreadable but aware of their interest. They weren’t just staring—they were evaluating her, and their combined attention sent a flicker of heat through her.

Before she could address the blatant curiosity in their gazes, the casually dressed man stepped forward.

“Miss Hartley,” he said, his voice smooth and unhurried. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Then you’ll know I prefer direct introductions,” Amelia replied coolly, meeting his gaze head-on.

The man’s grin widened, clearly enjoying her boldness. “Jasper Blackwood,” he said, gesturing to the others. “And these are my brothers—Adrian and Caleb.”

Amelia’s lips twitched in recognition. The infamous Blackwood triplets. Billionaires in their own right, each dominating a separate industry: Adrian as a world-class surgeon, Caleb as a daredevil pilot and logistics mogul, and Jasper as the tech genius driving Blackwood Industries’ innovations.

“Pleasure,” she said simply, though her tone conveyed nothing of the sort. She was used to powerful men and wasn’t about to let them rattle her.

“Standing under mistletoe, I see,” Jasper added, his grin bordering on wicked.

Amelia glanced up, her eyes narrowing slightly at the sprig of mistletoe dangling above her. She turned back to the brothers, her confidence unwavering. “A mere coincidence.”

“Is it?” Caleb asked, stepping closer. His green eyes sparkled with a challenge. “Or fate?”

Adrian was next to move, his steady gaze softening as he took in her face. “May we honour the tradition?”

The room seemed to shrink around her as the weight of their combined attention settled on her. Amelia’s heart quickened, though she kept her expression neutral. She wasn’t one to be easily intimidated or swept off her feet, but something about these three men stirred a dormant part of her.

She arched a brow, tilting her chin up in defiance. “Go ahead.”

Adrian leaned in first, his touch as precise as his profession. His kiss was slow, deliberate, and carried a weight that left her momentarily breathless.

Caleb was next, his hands brushing against hers as his lips captured hers with a fiery intensity that matched his rugged demeanour.

Finally, Jasper stepped forward, his grin softening into something warmer. His kiss was playful yet surprisingly tender, leaving her wanting more.

When it was over, Amelia took a step back, her composure intact despite the heat coursing through her. “Well,” she said, her voice steady. “That was unexpected.”

Before any of them could reply, a commotion erupted at the far end of the room. Guests parted as security surrounded a man shouting angrily.

Amelia’s sharp eyes immediately picked up on the tension. She started toward the scene, but Adrian’s hand on her arm stopped her.

“Stay here,” he said firmly, his blue eyes serious.

“I don’t take orders, Dr. Blackwood,” she replied, brushing past him and moving toward the disturbance.

What she saw chilled her. The man arguing with security was pointing directly at her.

“You think you’re untouchable, Hartley?” he spat, his face red with fury. “You can’t hide behind your money forever!”

Amelia’s jaw tightened, though she remained outwardly calm. It wasn’t the first threat she’d received this year, and she doubted it would be the last.

Jasper leaned in, his voice low and dangerous. “You’ve got enemies. I like that.”

Amelia turned to him, her lips curving into a dangerous smile. “You don’t know the half of it.”