The old analog clock on the precinct wall ticked loudly. It was 2:00 AM. Adelia's eyelids felt like they were lined with lead.

A drunk man down the hall suddenly bent over and vomited onto the floor. The sharp, acidic smell of stomach bile flooded the room. Adelia quickly pulled a silk handkerchief from her pocket and pressed it hard against her nose, turning her face to the wall.

The desk sergeant slammed his hand down. A thick stack of manila folders hit the wooden desk with a loud crack.

"Keep it quiet in here!" he barked.

Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the precinct were pushed open from the outside. A blast of freezing wind and the smell of autumn rain rushed into the stale room.

Two men in immaculate, custom-tailored suits walked in first. Their expensive leather shoes clicked in perfect unison against the dirty terrazzo floor.

Behind them, a third man stepped through the doors.

He was tall, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. He wore a perfectly cut black wool overcoat. His presence instantly sucked the oxygen out of the room.

The man slowly pulled off his wet leather gloves. The movement was elegant but dripped with absolute arrogance. He handed the gloves to the assistant behind him without looking.

The entire precinct went dead silent. Even the vomiting drunk clamped his mouth shut, intimidated by the crushing weight of the man's authority.

Adelia lifted her head. She squinted through the dim, flickering light.

When she saw his face, her pupils contracted sharply.

It was Axel Arnold. Coleman's uncle. The most ruthless hedge fund billionaire on Wall Street. His cold, grey-blue eyes swept across the dirty room.

Axel's gaze finally stopped on the dark corner where Adelia was shivering. A microscopic frown formed between his brows.

He walked straight toward her. His long legs ate up the distance. The bottom of his coat flared slightly with his fast pace. The heavy thud of his shoes felt like boots stepping directly on Adelia's chest.

The two lawyers rushed to the sergeant's desk. They slapped a stack of bail documents down. The thick papers rustled loudly as the nervous sergeant flipped through them with shaking hands.

Axel stopped right in front of Adelia. His massive frame blocked out the harsh fluorescent light, casting her entirely in his dark shadow.

He looked down at her ruined dress and bare, shivering shoulders.

"Can you stand?" his voice was deep, cold, and completely devoid of emotion.

Adelia bit the inside of her cheek. She placed her hand against the dirty wall and pushed herself up. Her legs had been curled up for hours. The blood rushed back into her calves, causing a painful, tingling numbness.

Her knees buckled. She fell forward.

Axel did not reach out to catch her waist. Instead, he maintained his strict boundaries. He extended his forearm. The hard, solid muscle beneath his suit jacket caught her weight.

Adelia's forehead crashed against his shoulder. Her nose brushed against his lapel. The crisp, clean scent of cedarwood mixed with a faint trace of tobacco filled her lungs. The smell instantly calmed the frantic beating of her heart.

"Here are her things, Mr. Arnold," the sergeant said. His voice was sickeningly sweet now. He handed over Adelia's broken clutch with both hands.

Axel did not say a single word to the police. He turned and walked toward the exit. Adelia forced her aching legs to move, limping slightly to keep up with his massive strides.

They walked out into the freezing rain.

The cold water hit Adelia's bare skin like tiny needles. She gasped, her teeth chattering uncontrollably.

A driver in a black suit immediately popped open a massive black umbrella. The heavy rain pounded against the tight fabric.

Axel stopped walking. He unbuttoned his black cashmere overcoat and pulled it off his shoulders. With one swift motion, he draped the heavy coat over Adelia.

The coat was still radiating his body heat. The massive size of it swallowed her completely, instantly blocking out the freezing wind.

Adelia looked up, opening her mouth to thank him.

Axel wasn't looking at her. His jaw was set in a hard line. He was staring down at the face of his Patek Philippe watch.

The driver pulled open the rear door of a black Maybach. The warm air from the car's heaters rushed out, carrying the rich scent of new leather.

Adelia bent down and slid into the back seat. The soft leather wrapped around her exhausted body. She let out a long, shaky breath.

Axel got in on the other side. The wide leather armrest separated them. The silence inside the car was so heavy it felt suffocating.

The Maybach pulled smoothly into the wet streets. The tires hissed against the puddles. The neon signs of New York smeared into colorful streaks across the tinted windows.

Axel picked up an iPad from the console. He stared at the glowing stock charts.

"Take us to my private residence at The Mark Hotel," he ordered the driver. His tone left zero room for argument.

Adelia swallowed hard, pushing down the words she wanted to say. She didn't ask to go home.

The Maybach rolled smoothly into the private, underground VIP garage of The Mark Hotel. The tires squeaked faintly against the polished concrete.

The driver jumped out and opened the door. The damp, cold air of the garage rushed in. Adelia pulled Axel's massive black coat tighter around her chest.

Axel stepped out first. His leather shoes hit the ground with a heavy, authoritative thud. He didn't look back to see if she was following. He walked straight toward a private elevator tucked in the corner.

Adelia forced her shaking legs to move. She followed him.

A red light blinked on the elevator's security panel. Axel pressed his thumb against the glass scanner. It beeped, turning green, and the metal doors slid open silently.

The elevator shot upward at a terrifying speed. The sudden loss of gravity made Adelia's stomach cramp violently. She leaned back, pressing her spine against the cold metal wall of the cabin, her face turning pale.

Axel caught her reflection in the mirrored doors. His eyebrows pulled together. He reached out and pressed a button on the panel, slowing the elevator's ascent.

The doors dinged open at the penthouse level.

Adelia stepped out. The thick, hand-woven carpet instantly absorbed the sound of her heels.

The hallway was dead silent, a sanctuary of absolute privacy that Axel demanded. He owned the entire floor, a fortress hidden above the city.

Axel pushed open a set of carved wooden double doors.

The penthouse suite was massive and dimly lit. Floor-to-ceiling windows displayed the dark, sprawling view of Central Park.

Axel pulled off his suit jacket and threw it onto a leather sofa. He yanked his tie loose. For a split second, his broad shoulders slumped with exhaustion.

Adelia stood frozen in the entryway. The heavy coat slipped off one of her shoulders. She didn't know where to look or where to sit.

Suddenly, the sliding door to the inner lounge was pushed open.

Kian Vance stumbled out of the private bar area, uninvited and entirely too comfortable. Axel had given Kian the access code months ago, a mistake he was now regretting. He was holding two crystal flutes of champagne. A lazy, mocking smile was plastered across his face.

Kian stopped dead when he saw Adelia. His eyes dragged up and down her ruined dress and Axel's oversized coat. His smile twisted into something dark and amused.

He let out a loud, piercing whistle.

"Well, well," Kian laughed. "The ice king finally brought a girl to his sanctuary. And she's not even from our circle."

Axel shot Kian a look so lethal it could cut glass. Kian's smile froze, but the malicious curiosity in his eyes only burned brighter.

"Get me a glass of water," Axel ordered Kian. He turned and walked into the master bathroom. The heavy door clicked shut. Seconds later, the sound of the shower running echoed through the suite.

Kian walked over to the marble wet bar. He turned his back to Adelia.

He stared at the two glasses of champagne in his hands. A sick, twisted idea formed in his brain. He wanted to see the untouchable Axel Arnold lose control.

Kian reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny paper packet. He dumped the white, odorless powder into one of the glasses. The powder dissolved instantly into the bubbles.

He turned around and walked over to Adelia. Condensation dripped down the side of the crystal glass.

"Drink this," Kian said, his voice dripping with fake kindness. "Axel told me to give it to you. It'll calm your nerves."

Adelia's throat was burning with thirst. She trusted Axel's inner circle. She reached out and took the glass. The cold crystal made her fingertips tremble.

She tipped her head back and drank half the glass in one swallow. The golden liquid burned down her throat, leaving a faint, bitter aftertaste on her tongue.

Kian smiled. He took the empty glass from her hand and set it on the glass coffee table. It made a sharp clink.

Five minutes later, the edges of Adelia's vision began to blur. The bright city lights outside the window smeared into long, twisting streaks of color.

Her heart started hammering against her ribs. Her blood felt like it was boiling. A strange, terrifying heat ignited deep in her stomach and spread to her limbs.

She tried to stand up. Her legs felt like they were made of wet sand. She collapsed backward, sinking deep into the soft cushions of the sofa.

Kian saw her eyes roll back slightly. He moved in immediately. He grabbed her bare arm. His fingers felt like burning iron against her skin. A wave of intense nausea hit her.

He dragged her up, half-carrying her limp body toward Axel's private bedroom. He pushed open the heavy door.

The room was pitch black. Moonlight spilled across the massive king-size bed.

Kian threw Adelia onto the mattress. She bounced slightly against the expensive linens.

He backed out of the room and pulled the door shut. He twisted the lock. The loud click of the deadbolt sliding into place echoed in the quiet room.

The sound of the shower stopped.

Axel walked out of the bathroom. A white towel hung low on his hips. Drops of water slid down the hard, defined lines of his chest and stomach.

He walked to the bedroom door and grabbed the handle. It didn't turn.

His eyebrows snapped together. His eyes turned dark and lethal.

He reached into the pocket of his discarded suit jacket and pulled out a black electronic master key card. He pressed it against the lock. A green light flashed with a sharp beep. He pushed the door open.

The air inside the bedroom was suffocatingly hot and smelled sickeningly sweet.

Adelia was thrashing in the center of the bed. She was panting heavily, her fingers tearing frantically at the neckline of her dress.

The expensive silk of her Oscar de la Renta gown was bunched up around her waist. Her pale skin glowed under the moonlight, slick with sweat.

Axel knew exactly what he was looking at. Kian had drugged her.

He crossed the room in three massive strides. He leaned over the bed and grabbed both of her wrists, pinning her hands down. His knuckles turned white from the force.

Adelia gasped. The cold, damp skin of Axel's large hands sent a shockwave of relief through her burning body. She let out a soft, desperate sigh and arched her back, instinctively pressing herself closer to the cold source.

Her hot cheek pressed against his wet chest. Her boiling breath washed over his skin.

The heat of her breath acted like a match hitting gasoline. Axel's jaw locked. The muscles in his neck strained.

"Adelia," he barked, his voice rough and commanding. He tried to force her brain to wake up.

Adelia opened her eyes. The room was spinning. She couldn't focus. All she saw was the sharp jawline and the distinct facial structure that belonged to the Cooper bloodline.

The drugs obliterated her logic. The crushing betrayal of Coleman leaving her at the hospital flooded her mind. A dark, reckless need for revenge exploded inside her chest.

She violently twisted her wrists, breaking free from his grip. She threw her arms around his neck. She pulled herself up and smashed her mouth against his.

Her lips were soft and tasted heavily of champagne.

Axel's entire body went rigid. His brain completely short-circuited.

He raised his hands to push her shoulders away. But Adelia clung to him like a drowning woman. Her fingernails dug deep into the hard muscles of his back, leaving stinging red scratches.

Suddenly, a hot tear slipped from her eye. It dropped onto Axel's collarbone, burning his skin.

"Why did you leave me?" she mumbled against his mouth, her voice breaking with pure agony.

That single tear shattered Axel's iron control. His hands stopped pushing. His breathing turned ragged and heavy.

He flipped his hands, his large palms gripping the back of her head. He kissed her back. He crushed his mouth against hers, stealing the air from her lungs. The wet sound of their lips echoed in the dark room.

They fell backward onto the mattress. The heavy duvet was kicked off, landing in a heap on the floor. The bed frame groaned under their weight.

Axel's lips left her mouth. He dragged his mouth down her jawline, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin of her neck. Adelia shivered violently, her fingers tangling in his damp hair.

His hand moved to the back of her dress. He gripped the metal zipper. The sound of the zipper sliding down was deafening in the quiet room.

Just as the fabric began to slip off her shoulders, Adelia let out a sharp, painful whimper. Her body curled inward, like a wounded animal trying to protect itself.

The sound hit Axel like a bucket of ice water.

He froze. The dark lust vanished from his eyes in a fraction of a second, replaced by crushing, violent self-hatred.

He shoved himself off her body. He stood up by the bed, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. Sweat dripped from his forehead.

He stared at the girl on his bed. Her dress was half-off, her mind completely gone.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath.

He grabbed the heavy duvet from the floor and threw it over her, wrapping her tightly so not an inch of her skin was visible.

Axel turned and walked straight back into the bathroom. He cranked the shower handle to the coldest setting. He stood under the freezing water, letting it shock his boiling blood back to normal.

Ten minutes later, he walked out. He was fully dressed in a fresh dress shirt and slacks. Every single button was fastened to the top.

He walked to the bed. Adelia was fast asleep. The tear tracks on her cheeks were dry. Her breathing was slow and steady.

He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face. His touch was terrifyingly soft.

He turned away and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. He pulled a cigar from a humidor and lit it. The red cherry of the cigar glowed in the dark, illuminating the harsh, grim lines of his face.

He pulled out his phone and typed a message to Kian: I will end you.

Axel sat down on the leather armchair. He did not close his eyes once. He watched her breathe until the sun came up.