Chapter 1 #2
Something flickered in his expression, but it was gone before I could analyze it.
And as it did, guilt swelled in my stomach. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly, meeting his eyes. “I am really sorry, Axel. I never meant to cause you harm. I’d never hurt you, or anyone, on purpose. But that doesn’t change the fact that I did hurt you and jeopardized your business.”
He studied me for a long moment, and for a second, I saw the old, kinder Axel. Then his walls slammed back up. “Intent doesn’t fix the damage.”
“I know. Which is why I’m here.”
“You’re here because you have an obligation to fix this.”
Irritation crawled up my neck, mixing with that familiar heat he always managed to provoke. “Maybe, next time, don’t practically grope the future First Lady at a charity gala!”
“Maybe, next time, stop eye-fucking me from across the room.”
My jaw slammed to the ground. The audacity! The delusion! The absolutely correct assessment that I’d rather die than admit! “Eye-fucking?” I laughed, but it came out sharp and breathless. “Get over yourself, Axel. You think every woman wants you, don’t you?”
The slow, predatory smile that spread across his face told me everything.
YEP. He absolutely does.
And worse, when he looked at me like that, like I was the only woman in the room worth pursuing, my traitorous body came alive.
“News flash: you’re not the sun in everyone’s solar system, Axel.”
“You came here because you have no choice. There’s a difference.”
“This is why this will never work.” I gestured between us, trying to ignore how even arguing with him felt like sexual tension disguised as combat. “We can’t stop tearing each other apart!”
Rebecca cleared her throat loudly. “I’ve been watching this performance for twenty minutes, and I need to know: what the hell is really going on between you two? This isn’t just about some photo. There’s history here.”
Axel and I fell silent, caught.
“Yes, Axel. Why do we despise each other?” I arched an eyebrow, challenging him to answer for his mysterious personality transplant all those years ago. The night he went from treating me like I mattered to acting like I was something stuck to his shoe.
“It’s the way it’s always been,” he said flatly.
Secret-keeping coward.
No, it hadn’t. Once upon a time, he’d been sweet. Walking me to my car when I visited Knox. Texting to check I got home safe. Then, poof, overnight transformation into King Dick. No explanation. No warning. Just started treating me like I’d personally murdered his puppy.
The rejection still stung like a bitch, especially because half our fights felt like foreplay.
The kind that made my pulse do stupid, traitorous things.
He’d weaponized flirtation, turned every interaction into a war zone, where I never knew if he wanted to kiss me or kill me.
So, I’d learned to give as good as I got.
When he went low, I went for the jugular.
Was it healthy? No. Was it satisfying? Hell yes.
But the worst part was that, despite EVERYTHING, I was still irrevocably, pathetically, catastrophically attracted to him. My body was a traitor, and my hormones were mutinous little bastards.
“Look,” Rebecca said, her voice softer now.
“Whatever happened between you two, there’s clearly passion there.
The same fire that makes you want to strangle each other?
That’s exactly what we need to sell this relationship, so I need to know you can both put whatever happened behind you long enough to save your careers. ”
“We can handle it,” I said finally, even though every instinct screamed at me to run.
“Good.” Rebecca pulled out another document. “The story is simple. You’ve been secretly dating for months.”
“Months?” My eyes did that cartoon thing where they practically boinged out on springs. “He’s constantly photographed with different women.”
“Not since he’s been working on his deal. He hasn’t posted a public image with anyone for over ten weeks.”
“Ten weeks.” My eyebrows practically achieved liftoff. “That’s, like … what? Three decades in Axel years?”
She pursed her lips, but continued, “So, the story is, the photo was taken during a lovers’ quarrel. Axel was trying to make you jealous, not knowing who Victoria was. You reacted like any woman in love would.”
The word love in connection with Axel made something twist inside. I couldn’t tell if it was the twisty sensation you got before you barfed or … nope. Never mind.
“I’ll stage everything. Restaurant sightings, hand-holding, the works. Eventually, an engagement to prove how serious you are.”
The thought of him slipping a ring onto my finger made me want to cut it off preemptively.
“I’d be lying to my followers,” I protested. “They trust me.”
“Please. Every post of yours is curated within an inch of its life,” Axel shot back. “You probably have spreadsheets for your spreadsheets. Don’t pretend you’re serving them unfiltered reality when you spend twenty minutes finding the perfect angle for your morning latte.”
“Planning content is different from outright lying,” I protested, though his words hit uncomfortably close to home.
“You can never believe what you see on social media anyway,” he said. “People’s lives are always different than what they portray online.”
Well, that wasn’t ominous at all. Should I be checking his browser history for how to spot catfish or trust issues support groups?
“What if the public realizes it’s fake?” I wondered.
“Then your careers are over,” Rebecca said bluntly. “So, you’d better make it convincing. Starting tonight. Go home and pack your things, Dakota.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
“You’re about to be engaged. You live together.”
The room suddenly felt twenty degrees hotter. Living with Axel Pierce? Seeing him first thing in the morning with his hair messed up and his guard down? Watching him pour coffee in whatever he wore to bed? (Please let him wear something to bed.)
I opened my mouth to object, but Rebecca was already packing up. “This is your only option. Take it or leave everything to burn.”
I sank back into my chair, meeting Axel’s gaze. He looked equal parts brooding and amused, like he knew exactly what sharing close quarters would do to me.
“Fine. Get me that rusty spoon,” I said.
His mouth twitched, and for a moment, I saw a flash of the old Axel again. Naturally, he replaced it with antagonism. “Buckle up, Sunshine.”
I rose to my feet, gathering what remained of my dignity. If Axel Pierce wanted to pretend to love me, to resurrect that intoxicating charm he’d perfected years ago, I’d make damn sure he regretted every second of it.
“I might have to appear nice to you in public, but so help me, in private, I’ll make sure this is just as miserable for you as it is for me.”
His eyes locked with mine, and when he smiled, it was pure sin. “I’m counting on it.”
The promise in his voice sent heat racing through me, and I realized with growing horror that this fake engagement might not be the worst part of this arrangement.
The worst was how part of me—the delusional, clearly-in-need-of-help part—was looking forward to it.