Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
H ands clap my back, jolting me out of a daydream I’ve got no business having—specifically, the way Cassie’s ass had me hypnotized in that courtroom today.
Every time I try to distract myself, my thoughts stray back to her—those sharp heels clicking against tile, that composed figure wrapped in something tight enough to be lethal, and the way she sliced through Daniels’ weak as fuck evidence with that voice like a velvet blade.
Another clap lands on my shoulder, harder this time. “Earth to Axel,” someone mutters with a laugh. I grunt in response, forcing a smirk, but my eyes flick toward the door like maybe she’ll walk through it.
And just like that, I’m back in my head again. Back to wondering what she’s doing right now. Is she working late? Is she detaching herself from the case? Is she thinking about me?
I need to get a fucking grip.
All five of us are gathered in the office above Hunter’s nightclub on the Lower East Side, whiskey in hand, talk shifting between business and bullshit.
It’s familiar territory—easy, loud, and blunt-edged.
Exactly what I need. Because ever since this afternoon, when Cassie made her swift exit, I’ve felt like a fucking love-sick teenager.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Stop pining!” Trigger elbows me, grinning like the devil. “You’re off the hook, man!”
“For now,” I mutter, eyes dropping to my glass.
Sure, the trial’s been delayed. That buys me time, but not peace of mind. And the torment I’m feeling? It’s not just about the courtroom anymore.
Cassie left more than a legal strategy behind—she left a mark.
Ever since that damn walk in the park, it’s like she’s cracked something open in me.
Something I didn’t know existed. That quiet moment between us, that should have been nothing more than a stroll, rattled me more than any bullet or betrayal ever has.
The way she looked at me, not like I was a monster, but like I was something worth saving.
She’s seeped in under my skin, soft and slow, like water finding its way through the smallest fracture.
She’s dangerous in her own right, but she doesn’t belong in this world, not really—and maybe that’s why she’s got me spiraling.
Cassie’s becoming an addiction, and I haven’t even tasted her yet.
That thought alone has me shifting in my seat.
Fuck .
I’m already running through excuses in my head—ways to see her sooner. Honestly, it’s not even hard. And really, I don’t need one. So I shove that shitty nervousness down and adjust the mask I wear for the world, steady and unreadable.
I pick up my phone and type out a message.
Me: Where are you? A.
I look for the little ‘read’ receipt, but it doesn’t come. I give it a few more minutes before I try again, because I fucking hate waiting.
Me: Answer me.
I hold my breath as the message lights up as being read.
Whatever she’s doing to me—whether she knows it or not— she’s infecting me.
Like a good kind of poison you crave, willingly swallowing it even if it takes your soul.
She’s the perfect mix of light and shadow.
The bad ass who commanded that courtroom with fire and conviction—that’s the side of her I want to see more of.
My phone vibrates in my hand, and my eyes lock on the single word waiting on the screen.
Cassidy: Office.
I grunt quietly to myself. I was hoping for more—a little something to hold onto—but then I realize my message left almost no room for that. She’s replying simply because my text was blunt and bare.
Me: Want some company? A
Maybe it’s the quarter bottle of whiskey Hunter shoved down my throat, but every shred of rationality has drained from me.
I know I’m walking a razor-thin line with Cassie—the thinnest line between professional and personal—but I can’t help it.
This has become personal. After a week of barely hearing from her, plus everything that went down this afternoon, I’m craving nothing more than her company.
Standing up, I dust off my pants, and set the glass down on the side table. Max rises to follow, but I wave him off with a quick, dismissive gesture.
“You not stayin’, Ax?” Hunter calls out from behind me.
“Nah... I’m beat,” I lie.
Trigger bumps fists with me, Hunter following suit. “See you tomorrow, brother,” they both murmur as I head for the door.
The music pulses loudly as I walk down the long corridor overlooking the dance floor. Bodies glisten with sweat, the bass thumping out a rhythm that guides every sway and shuffle.
For a moment, I get lost in the lights and heavy beat, watching how carefree they all seem down there.
I never had the chance to feel that freedom.
Groomed for this role since birth, it’s never been mine to claim.
Still, I don’t envy them. I’m where I’m meant to be.
But a tiny part of me wonders—just for a minute— what it would feel like to be weightless, like the world isn’t gripping me by the shoulders and dragging me down.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. A thin smile tugs at my lips as I read the message.
Cassie: Okay.
I let my heart twist into something unfamiliar as I step out of the nightclub, my car already waiting out front. Ignoring the alcohol buzzing through my system, I slide into the driver’s seat and start up the engine, relishing the purr of my Mercedes SLK.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m walking the polished corridors of the law firm.
Security let me right through without question—I guess my name carries some weight around here after all.
Cassie’s office door is propped open, giving me a clear view of her golden hair, twisted tightly in her palm as she focuses intently on the papers spread out before her.
I rap my knuckles lightly on the glass, startling her. But as soon as her eyes meet mine, her shoulders relax, and a slow smile spreads across her face. She leans back in her chair, the tension easing.
“He knocks,” she snarks, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Only for you,” I shoot back with a wink. The blush that creeps up her cheeks makes her glance away, her gaze dropping back to her desk. She falls silent, but I can almost hear the wheels turning in her head.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, tilting my head, genuinely curious.
“Nothing,” she replies, her voice unusually bright. There’s a flicker of something else in her eyes, a shadow I can’t quite place. Or maybe it’s just the whiskey talking.
“Let’s go for a drink,” I suggest, stepping closer.
Her green eyes snap back to me, sizing me up. For a moment, they glaze over, then she deadpans, “You’ve already been drinking.”
I respond with an exaggerated eye roll and close the distance to her desk, planting my hands firmly on either side.
“It’s no fun celebrating if I can’t do it with the person who’s kept me out of jail.” I grin, leaning in and letting my gaze linger on her lips.
She bites her bottom lip, and damn, I want to tug on it with my thumb and press my mouth to hers. I bet they’re soft, and?—
“We have two weeks to make sure Daniels doesn’t try to falsify evidence.
I can’t afford to let my guard down right now,” she says without missing a beat.
I realize she’s been talking this whole time and I’ve been distracted, ogling her lips and imagining what I could do with them—what I want to do for her.
Damn whiskey. It needs to calm down before it gets me into real trouble.
“You think he will?” I ask, my voice firmer than I intended.
Cassie rounds the desk, stretching her slender legs. Her shirt slips out of her skirt just enough to reveal a flash of skin, and she doesn’t even notice. Fuck , I feel like a horny teenager again. The sight of her stomach alone is sending my mind spiraling out of control.
Axel, you really need to get laid.
“After his last stunt, I wouldn’t put it past him,” Cassie replies quietly, her voice heavy with exhaustion and something close to frustration.
My mind drifts back to our walk last week—the fierce determination in her eyes as she stormed out of her apartment, the flicker of sadness when she mentioned the fight with her roommate .
She hadn’t shared much, but I knew it was connected to me.
And here she is again, shielding me, taking shit from some other prick on my behalf.
“Makes me want to fucking ki?—”
Before I can finish, her hand shoots up and clamps over my mouth. I freeze, staring at her in shock.
“You can’t say shit like that,” she whispers fiercely, then pulls her hand away and hurries to close the door, leaving me standing there stunned .
I don’t think she’s realized I’ve stopped talking about Daniels—the way my thoughts are slipping out before I can catch them.
She fumbles nervously with the lock, strands of hair falling over her face and probably blocking her view. I can’t help but chuckle softly, then step over to click the lock shut for her.
Suddenly, she pivots, pressing her back and palms firmly against the door.
“Well, what can I say?” I murmur, arching a brow.
“Nice things,” she shoots back sarcastically, but the edge of nervousness beneath her words betrays her, especially as she notices how close I am.
I take another step forward. Her breath catches, shallow and quick. There’s barely any space left between us—only the faint rise and fall of our chests holding us apart.
“What kind of nice things?” I ask, gently tipping her chin up with my finger, allowing me to look deep into those emerald pools. I could get lost in them for hours—the way innocence mingles with that smoldering fire, framed by dark lashes that flutter nervously as she swallows her anxiety.
“Well,” she clears her throat, “saying you want to kill someone when you’re already on trial for murder isn’t exactly on the list.”
I have to give her credit, she’s quick on her feet, sharp as ever. She handled herself just like this before court.
“Trigger’s right,” I murmur, dipping my head close to her ear. “You’re dangerously hot when you’re feisty.”
There’s an audible gulp, and from the corner of my eye, I catch the subtle bob of her throat as she fights the urge to gasp. The sound stirs something deep inside me—something I’m aching to hear more of. Determined, I make it my mission to coax another response from her.
“How’s that for nice?” I murmur, letting the words hang heavy between us as I lean in, trailing my nose through the soft strands of her hair. She smells like chocolate and coconut— warm, intoxicating—a velvet richness that floods my senses and tightens the grip on my pants.
She makes no move to pull away. Instead, her back arches just a fraction, pressing her chest closer to mine. I can tell she’s as caught up in this electric closeness as I am, especially when her hands reach up and clutch the lapels of my suit jacket, holding me just as firmly as I’m holding her.
“Axel,” she breathes out, a warning threaded through her voice. But it’s barely there, just a sliver of resistance that only makes the rest of her desire burn brighter beneath the surface. It’s a fire I’m eager to unravel, to explore.
“You’re fierce,” I whisper, lowering my head so my nose traces the sharp curve of her jawline before sliding back to the sensitive skin just below her earlobe. “Relentless. Irresistible.”
Her breath hitches, and I press my lips softly against that tender spot. I can feel the tremble of her pulse beneath my mouth; it pulls a slow, satisfied smile from me, hidden beneath the curtain of her hair.
“I might just get myself into trouble more often, if it means I get to watch you like this,” I murmur against her skin, letting my lips graze her flesh with delicate, teasing strokes.
“You’re just saying that to get what you want,” Cassie counters, her voice a fragile attempt to create distance.
But her hands betray her words—fists tightening on the lapels of my jacket, pulling me closer, anchoring me to her like a magnet.
Every second that passes, her body speaks louder than her words.
“Two things you should know about me.” My lips barely brush the delicate column of her neck as she instinctively tilts it further into my touch. The heat of my breath fans across her skin, soft and intoxicating. “One: I never lie.”
My hands slide down to her waist, fingers wrapping around the curve of her stomach without hesitation.
She doesn’t resist—not even when my thumb drifts to the bare skin, tracing slow, lazy circles.
Her chest rises and falls with quickening breaths, the swell of her breasts pressing against my body, exposed and vulnerable.
I feel her leg twitch against mine, a silent confession to the heat building between us.
She’s fighting it, this desperate need for friction, for release—and I’m not about to give her that easy satisfaction. No. This isn’t about a quick indulgence or a hollow conquest. This is something deeper.
“And the second?” Her voice catches on a nervous gulp, and I pull back just enough to see the flicker of disappointment flash across her features.
Her hands slacken on my jacket, hesitant now.
Her cheeks flush, skin glowing in the low light; and those full lips, slightly parted, trembling as she licks them nervously. My eyes trace the action.
“I always get what I want, Cassie.” My voice drops to a low, dangerous murmur, the kind that leaves no room for doubt or denial. Yet, even with that certainty hanging in the air, she doesn’t back down.
I reach up, gripping her neck firmly, the strength in my hand matching the intensity in my gaze.
My thumb drags over those soft, glistening lips, spreading the sheen of saliva, making them even more tempting.
Perfectly shaped and inviting. And when she breathes my name, it spills like a prayer between us.
“Axel,” she murmurs, impatience and surrender bleeding through her tone.
Satisfied by the sound, I pull away just enough to remind myself of restraint—though barely.
The primal urge to claim her right here, in this office, claws at me with relentless hunger.
I study her eyes, glossy and heavy with want and disappointment all at once.
And that look? It’s intoxicating. It fills me with a dark, twisted pride.
“Hmm,” I murmur, voice thick with promise, “better than I imagined.”