ADDISON

Two days left. The deal I'd made in that stalled elevator felt less like a rescue and more like a dream I'd stupidly believed. Maybe he'd been oxygen-deprived and just agreed to get me to stop talking. Maybe I had been too open to him, I mean what kind of girl tells a man she just met almost everything about herself. Maybe Axel Rex had already forgotten I existed.

I was staring into the hopeless abyss of my coffee cup when the intercom buzzed, sharp and insistent. My heart jumped. I walked over, my bare feet cold on the floor. "Yes?"

"Package for you, Ms. Amber. From Mr. Rex's office."

The world tilted. I managed to mutter a "thank you," and leaned against the wall, my legs suddenly weak.

A moment later, my doorman was placing a long, elegant white box in my hands. It was heavy. I carried it to my dining table like it might explode, my fingers trembling as I lifted the lid.

Inside, nestled in tissue paper as black as midnight, were flowers. But not just any flowers. They were the most dramatic, dangerous-looking flowers I had ever seen. Deep, blood-red roses, so dark they were almost black, mixed with strange, elegant black lilies that looked like they'd been grown in moonlight. There was no sweet, gentle scent. It was something richer, spicier. It smelled like power.

There was a simple, thick card nestled among the stems. No handwritten note. Just crisp, typed words.

Our first public appearance is tonight.

The Vanguard Charity Gala.

A car will collect you at 7 PM.

Wear something that makes you feel powerful.

- A.R.

Tonight. It was happening. Tonight.

The panic morphed into a different, more frantic energy. I snatched my phone and called the only person who could handle this.

"Jules," I breathed the second she answered. "Code red. I need you. Now."

An hour later, my bedroom looked like a tornado had hit a very expensive boutique. Dresses were flung across my bed, my chairs, the floor. Silk, satin, sequins-a rainbow of desperation.

"Powerful, he says," Jules muttered, holding up a slinky silver dress. "What does that even mean? CEO powerful or assassin powerful?"

"I don't know!" I wailed, pulling a pale pink gown over my head. "It's Axel Rex. It probably means 'don't embarrass me.'"

I looked in the mirror. The pink was soft, pretty. It was the kind of dress my mother would approve of. It made me look like a piece of expensive candy.

"No," Jules said, reading my mind. "That's 'controlled' powerful. He didn't say controlled. He said powerful." She dove back into the pile and emerged with a garment bag I'd forgotten about. She unzipped it with a dramatic flourish.

Inside was a dress I'd bought on a whim and never had the courage to wear. It was a deep emerald green, the exact color of his eyes. It was sleeveless, with a high neckline that was both modest and severe, but the back was completely open, dipping low. The fabric was heavy, liquid silk that clung in a way that was both elegant and a little bit dangerous.

"This one," Jules declared.

I put it on. I looked in the mirror. The woman staring back wasn't the scared girl from the dinner table or the panicked mess in the elevator. She was someone else. Someone who belonged on the arm of a man like Axel Rex.

"Yeah," I whispered. "This one."

---

The black McLaren car was silent and smooth as a shark. By the time we pulled up to the museum where the gala was being held, my hands were ice-cold. The red carpet was a blur of flashing lights and shouted questions. I fixed my model smile in place, a mask I knew how to wear.

Then I felt a hand on the small of my back.

I jumped, turning to find him there. Axel. In a tuxedo that was clearly not rented, but forged onto his body. His eyes did a quick, head-to-toe sweep of me, pausing for a fraction of a second on the green of my dress. Something unreadable flickered in his gaze.

"You look... appropriate," he said, his voice low.

It wasn't a compliment, not really. But from him, it felt like one. "Thank you," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. "So do you."

He kept his hand on my back as we walked, a firm, warm pressure that felt less like an affection and more like a brand. A claim. He didn't stop for the press, didn't smile. He just moved through the crowd, and it parted for him like the Red Sea.

Inside, the gala was a whirl of champagne and diamonds. He introduced me to people, his tone always the same. "This is Addison Amber." Not "my girlfriend." Not "my date." Just my name, with a weight behind it that made people pay attention.

For a little while, I almost forgot it was fake. The way he'd lean down to hear me over the music, the way his hand never left my back or arm. It felt real. And that was the most dangerous part.

Then I saw him. Feign Paxton. He was standing near the bar, his face like thunder, a glass of whiskey clenched in his hand. Our eyes met across the room, and the hatred in his was a physical force.

I instinctively flinched, my step faltering. Axel's hand tightened on my back instantly.

"Addison," Feign spat, stepping into our path. He was already a little drunk. "Moving up in the world, I see. Or just trading one controller for another?"

Before I could form a word, Axel shifted slightly, putting his body subtly between me and Feign. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to.

"Paxton," Axel said, the single word dripping with frost. "You're in our way."

Feign, emboldened by alcohol, puffed out his chest. "I was just talking to my ex-girlfriend."

"She is not your anything," Axel replied, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper, yet it cut through the party noise. "And if you value your business, and your health, you will turn around and walk away. Now."

The threat wasn't loud or dramatic. It was absolute. I saw the color drain from Feign's face. He looked from Axel's cold, dead-eyed expression to me, and for the first time, I saw real fear in his eyes. He muttered something under his breath and stumbled back, disappearing into the crowd.

Axel turned back to me, his hand returning to my back. "Shall we?" he asked, as if he'd just commented on the weather.

In that moment, surrounded by a hundred people, I felt completely alone with him. The noise of the party faded into a distant hum. All I could see were his green eyes, all I could feel was the solid, terrifying warmth of his hand. He wasn't just playing a part. He was like a king, and he'd just defended his territory. And for a terrifying, thrilling second, I was glad to be in it.

ADDISON

The silence in the back of the town car was a living thing. It was thick and heavy, pressing in on me from all sides, it was suffocating. Outside, the city lights blurred into streaks of gold and white, but inside, it felt like we were frozen in time. I could still feel the heat of his hand on my back, a brand that hadn't faded. I could still see the pure, cold fury on Axel's face when he'd looked at Feign. It was murderous in all forms.

I had to say something. The quiet was going to make me scream.

"Thank you," I started, my voice sounding too loud. "For what you did back there with Feign. You really didn't have to... I mean, the threat was a little..."

"It wasn't a threat," he said, his voice a low rumble. He wasn't even looking at me, his profile a sharp, dark cut-out against the window. "It was a fact. I would have done what I said and so much more Addison, I'm not your typical gentleman."

A shiver went down my spine. It was the way he said it. So sure. So final. Like he was just stating that the sky was blue or that water was wet. He wasn't boasting; he was just telling the truth. "Yeah, I know that now."

"Smart girl." He said, and somehow it felt like the best compliment ever, people have called me hot, beautiful, gorgeous but hearing a compliment from him felt so good. What the hell was wrong with me?

"How did you know?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of my fear. "How did you know that would work?"

He finally turned his head, and those green eyes pinned me in place. "Does it bother you? The way I handled it?"

I thought about it. I really thought about it. The memory of Feign's face, the fear that had replaced his anger. "It was scary," I admitted, being honest. "But it was also a relief. A big one. So, no. It doesn't bother me."

He gave a single, slow nod, as if my answer was important. "In my world, Addison, showing weakness is not an option. That applies to you now, too."

His world. The words hung in the air. What world was that? The world of billionaires? It felt like something more.

The car pulled up to the Castino, smooth as ever. The driver came around to open my door, and I stepped out into the cool night air, expecting Axel to just drive away. But he didn't. His door opened too, and he got out.

"I'll see you to your place," he said, falling into step beside me.

We walked through the glittering, empty lobby, our footsteps echoing. The night doorman gave a respectful nod, his eyes wide with curiosity. The whole city would know by morning.

We reached the bank of private elevators and I pressed the call button. The tension was back, that strange, electric feeling that seemed to buzz between us whenever we were close. I turned to him, wanting to say something else, to break the weirdness, to break the silence. I wasn't the typical yapper, but around him, I just felt I had to talk to speak to him every time. It was a pull towards him that felt and scary at the same.

Without really thinking, I reached out and placed my hand on his forearm, where his sleeve was rolled up.

I yanked my hand back instantly. "Oh my god!"

His skin wasn't just warm. It was hot. Like he had a raging fever.

"Axel, are you sick? You're burning up!" I said, my concern instantly overriding everything else. I reached out again, more carefully this time, pressing the back of my hand to his neck. It was like touching a radiator, he stared down at my hand on his neck, looking back into my eyes. Oh shit! "I'm sorry I was a bit worried, I didn't mean to touch you like t-that... Anyway, you have a fever. A really bad one. Why didn't you say something? We should go to a hospital."

He looked down at where my hand had been, then back at my face. His expression was unreadable. "I don't have a fever."

"What do you mean you don't have a fever?" I exclaimed, my voice rising. "Your temperature is through the roof! Why the hell is it that high? If you're sick, you should be in bed, not at a party!"

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "I have a naturally high body temperature. It's... normal for me."

I stared at him, baffled. "Naturally high? How is that even possible?"

He looked away, back towards the lobby entrance, his posture stiff. "It gets higher when I'm angry."

The statement was so absurd, so completely unexpected, that a startled laugh burst out of me. "What? You're kidding, right? Like a human thermometer? When you're angry, you just... what, boil over?"

He turned his head, and his gaze slammed into me. There was no humor in his eyes. None. Just a deep, aching intensity that shut down my laughter instantly. It was a look that said the conversation was over. A look that said I had just stepped over a line I couldn't see.

"It's not a joke," he said, his voice flat and final.

The elevator arrived with a soft ping. The doors slid open.

"Goodnight, Addison," he said. He didn't move to get in with me. He just stood there, a hot, angry, mysterious statue, waiting for me to leave.

"Goodnight," I whispered, stepping backward into the elevator.

As the doors closed, I saw him still standing there, watching me, his hands clenched at his sides. The last thing I saw was the fierce, hot light in his green eyes, and I knew, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that he hadn't been lying. He wasn't sick. Why on earth was his temperature that high?

Something was very, very different about Axel Rex. And I had no idea what I had just gotten myself into.

ADDISON

My mother was calling.

I stood there for a second, just staring at my phone like it might bite me. Then I forced myself to take a long, slow breath, trying to steady my nerves. I reached out and swiped to answer, bringing the phone up to my ear. "Hi, Mom," I said, trying to keep my voice steady and casual.

"Addison." Her voice came through sharp and clear, that businesslike tone she always used. But there was something else there too, something I couldn't quite put my finger on at first. It sounded almost like... satisfaction? Like she was pleased about something. That made me even more nervous.

I braced myself, waiting for what I knew had to be coming. The lecture. The disappointed speech about how I'd been reckless at the gala, how I should have been more careful, how I'd put myself and the family reputation at risk. I could practically hear it already in my head.

"What a catch," she said instead, and I swear I almost fumbled my phone right onto the floor. My fingers went numb for a second. That was absolutely not what I'd been expecting to hear from her.

"I always knew you would eventually do something worthy of praise," she continued, and each word felt carefully chosen, deliberate. "You have Axel Rex in your arms now. I would suggest you keep him there."

My hand tightened around my phone, gripping it so hard my knuckles started to turn white. This wasn't her being proud of me as a person. This wasn't her celebrating my happiness or my choices. This was her evaluating a business transaction, looking at the potential value I'd just brought to the family. I was a chess piece that had finally made a good move.

"Addison," she went on, and her voice got even sharper, colder somehow. There was a warning buried in there, clear as day even though she hadn't said it outright. "I don't want a repeat of what happened with Feign. This man is richer, more powerful than him. He would do absolute numbers for our business connections. So make sure you please him, keep him happy, and bring him home sometime soon. Your father is very eager to meet him."

My throat felt like it was closing up. I could barely get the words out. "Okay, Mom," I managed to say, my voice coming out smaller than I wanted it to.

"Good. Don't disappoint us," she said, and then the line just went dead. Click. Just like that.

I stood there in my kitchen, the phone still pressed against my ear for what felt like forever, even though there was nothing but silence on the other end now. Finally, I let my hand drop down to my side, the phone dangling loosely from my fingers. This wave of emptiness just crashed over me, and it actually hurt. Like a physical ache in my chest that made it hard to breathe properly.

She wasn't proud of me. Not really. Not of anything I'd actually done or accomplished on my own. Not my career that I'd built up piece by piece, not any of the long nights I'd spent sketching and creating and pouring my heart into my work. None of that mattered to her. What mattered was that I'd somehow managed to catch the attention of someone rich and powerful, someone who could be useful to the family business. I felt less like a daughter and more like a well-trained show dog that had finally dragged home the right prize.

I was still standing there, sort of staring at nothing, lost in that awful hollow feeling, when my phone started ringing again. I looked down at the screen, and this time I actually felt relief flood through me. Phillip. My manager. Thank god.

I tried to shake off the conversation with my mother and forced some energy into my voice. "Phillip, hi," I said, attempting to sound normal and upbeat.

"Sunshine!" His voice came booming through the phone, loud and cheerful and warm, and it actually made my cold, empty kitchen feel a little bit less miserable. He was the only person in the world who called me that nickname, and he was one of maybe three or four people in my entire life who felt genuinely real and honest. "Saw you absolutely lighting up all the gossip websites with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Devastating! Good for you, girl. Seriously, good for you. Now, let's talk business for a minute. How are we feeling about the fall collection? The big bosses upstairs are already asking me for a sneak peek of your ideas. We need the next big thing, Addy. Something that's really going to make people stop dead in their tracks and stare."

And just like that, the tiny bit of warmth and light that Phillip had brought into my morning disappeared completely. It got replaced by this familiar, crushing weight that settled right on my shoulders. I glanced over at my sketchbook sitting on the kitchen table, and my heart sank even further. It was filled with page after page of half-finished designs that all looked... boring. Uninspired. Safe and pretty, sure, but nothing special. Nothing new. They were all things I felt like I'd seen a thousand times before. I hadn't had a single genuine spark of real creative inspiration in weeks, maybe even months if I was being totally honest with myself.

"It's... coming along," I lied, staring at yet another blank page in my sketchbook. The white paper seemed to mock me. "Just fine-tuning some concepts, you know, working through the details."

"That's my girl!" Phillip said, and I could hear the absolute trust and confidence in his voice. He believed me completely, which somehow made me feel even worse. "I know you're going to blow them away. You always do. Let's talk soon, okay?"

"Yeah, sounds good," I said, and we hung up.

I immediately let my head fall forward into my hands, pressing my palms against my eyes. A catch. A valuable business asset. A fashion designer with absolutely zero ideas. That's all I was to anyone. That's all I amounted to.

The sudden buzzing of my door intercom made me literally jump, my heart racing. I walked over to the panel by my front door and pressed the button. "Yes?" I asked.

"It's your favorite disaster of a best friend," a wonderfully familiar voice crackled through the speaker, and I felt myself start to smile for the first time all morning. "And I brought bagels because I'm an angel. Let me in, I'm literally dying out here."

"Jules," I said, and pressed the button to unlock the building door.

A few minutes later, my apartment door burst open and Jules came sweeping in like a force of nature. She had a paper bag from our favorite bagel place in one hand and her absolutely massive purse slung over her other shoulder. She kicked my door shut behind her with her foot and immediately threw herself onto my luxurious white sofa (not that she even cared about luxury much) with the most dramatic sigh I'd ever heard.

"Okay, start talking immediately," she announced, getting comfortable. "Actually, wait. First things first, I need you to show me the dress in person. I saw all the pictures online, obviously, but I need the real details. Did it feel as absolutely amazing as it looked in those photos?"

I walked over and sat down on the chair opposite her, pulling my knees up to my chest and hugging them. "It did," I admitted, and I couldn't help but smile a little at the memory. "It was actually perfect. Thank you for basically forcing me to wear it when I was being all nervous and unsure."

"I know, I'm an absolute genius," she said with zero modesty, leaning forward with her eyes going wide with excitement. "Now. The main event. Him. Axel Rex. Oh my actual god, Addison. Those pictures online absolutely do not do that man any kind of justice. He is just... wow. I don't even have better words. Just wow. And that one photo I saw of you two near the bar area? The way he was looking at you in that shot? I genuinely thought my phone screen was going to spontaneously catch on fire from the heat."

I thought about the reality of last night-the awkward, cold, business-like way we'd introduced ourselves to each other, the tense and silent car ride to the gala, the weird moment when his skin had felt burning hot against mine and I kinda like it, the heat from his skin felt so good against my cold one. "It was... intense," I said carefully, not really sure how to explain any of it.

"Intense?Did you have something spicy going on with Axel Rex?" Before I could answer, Jules practically squealed. "Addison, he looks like he could bench-press an actual car and then casually buy the entire company that manufactured it. What did he smell like? Don't you dare give me that look, you absolutely have to notice these things! Was it like that 'dark mysterious billionaire' vibe or more like 'freshly printed money' smell?"

I couldn't help it-I actually laughed at that, the absurdity of her questions breaking through my gloomy mood. "I don't know, Jules! I wasn't exactly taking detailed notes! It was... good, okay? Like sandalwood and something else underneath that. Something a little bit wild, maybe. I can't really describe it."

She started fanning her face with her hand dramatically. "Wild. Oh, I like that description. I like that a lot. So, when's the next date happening? What's your plan here? You absolutely have to lock this down, Addison!"

"It's not like that," I said, and I felt my smile fade away completely. I hugged my knees tighter against my chest, making myself smaller. "My mom called this morning."

Jules's entire expression changed instantly, going from playful and excited to fiercely protective in half a second. "Oh, honey. What did the dragon queen have to say this time?" She rolled her eyes, I figure she hated my mom as much as my mom hated her too. In fact my mother wasn't even aware I was still hanging out with her, she could have crucified me then for sure.

"She said he was a 'catch,'" I repeated, and my voice came out flat and hollow. "She told me I needed to 'please him' because he'd be really good for the family business and our connections."

Jules was off the sofa in a heartbeat, coming over to sit right next to me and immediately pulling me into a tight hug. "She's such a piece of work, Addy. You know that, right? Her opinion doesn't mean anything about who you actually are."

"It just feels so empty," I whispered into her shoulder, my voice breaking a little. "Everything feels so empty. And then right after that, Phillip called asking about the fall line. Jules, I have nothing. Literally nothing. All my ideas are completely terrible. I look at my sketchbook and it's like my mind is just... blank. Completely blank."

She pulled back from the hug but kept her hands on my shoulders, looking me straight in the eyes. "Hey. Listen to me for a second. You are Addison Amber. You're not just some accessory on a rich guy's arm. You built your entire brand from absolutely nothing, from the ground up with your own hands and your own talent. The inspiration is going to come back. You're just under a massive amount of pressure right now, and that's blocking everything." She grinned at me suddenly, that mischievous look I knew so well. "Maybe your mysterious, wild-smelling, super-hot fake boyfriend can be your muse. Have you ever thought of that?"

I gave her a weak shove, but I was almost smiling again. "Stop it. That's ridiculous."

"I'm completely serious!" she insisted. "Live a little! This is literally the craziest, most out-of-character thing you've ever done in your entire life. Maybe that's exactly what you need right now. A little bit of chaos. A little bit of something... taboo and different." She wiggled her eyebrows at me suggestively.

I sighed deeply, looking past her toward my silence, my sketch book mockingly staring back at me sitting on the table. A muse, The Axel rex being my muse? no. My entire life felt like one giant blank page right now, empty and waiting for something to fill it. And for the first time since this whole insane arrangement started, the man I was supposedly dating-this stranger I was pretending to be in a relationship with-felt like the biggest question mark of them all. Maybe Jules was actually right about something. Maybe the only way I was going to find a new design, a new direction, a new spark of creativity, was to step fully into this beautiful, terrifying mess I'd somehow created for myself.