Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
I t’s been a week since I last saw Axel.
My challenge must’ve hit a nerve because he hasn’t spoken to me since.
Maybe he’s just waiting to play his next move, figuring me out like a predator watching prey exhaust itself.
Still, some part of me feels victorious.
Colombo was right. Axel won’t hurt me. Not in the way I feared.
If anything, he seemed amused by my little show of bravado—intrigued, even.
But it doesn’t stop the unease that creeps in after five full days without a visit. Not even Colombo has shown up.
Now, with one week to go until Axel’s arraignment, I’m chewing my nails down to the quick. I thought he’d swagger in by now, gloating like the smug bastard he is. But I’ve heard nothing. Not a word. Not a whisper.
The only option I can think of is heading back to the gallery or his place, but I’m not even sure I remember the way. The thought makes me restless.
“You’ve got a visitor,” Jada calls through the telecom.
“Thanks,” I say, straightening my jacket and heading to the door. I wasn’t expecting anyone, but something in my gut twists. Like I already know .
I reach for the handle. The door flies inward and everything happens fast.
My face smashes into the glass with bone-rattling force. Stars explode behind my eyes. Then pain radiates, hot and sudden. I stumble, hands flying to my nose, and before I hit the floor, arms clamp around my waist.
“Shit. You good?” His voice is like rough velvet caressing my skin.
My blurry eyes meet his dark ones as Axel spins me to face him.
“I—I think so,” I manage, rubbing my nose and checking for blood.
The heat of his palm against my cheek makes it hard to breathe. He’s too close. His body heat rolls off him in waves, suffocating and magnetic. I feel pinned even though he isn’t holding me anymore.
“What the fuck were you doing behind the door?” His tone switches to irritated, but it’s laced with something gentler that makes it all the more confusing.
“I was about to open it,” I deadpan. “Ever heard of knocking?”
“Why the fuck would I knock?” he scoffs, stepping back just enough to give me space, but not enough to feel safe.
“In case I’m busy?”
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he prowls the edge of my office like he owns the place. His eyes linger on the frames on the walls, the photos of me and Lexie, my degree, motivational bullshit that suddenly feels too soft for the energy he brings into the room.
His gaze sharpens. “Busy with who , exactly?”
“What?” I blink, dumbfounded.
“Don’t play dumb. Who else would be in here with you?”
There’s a shift. A possessiveness leaking into his voice like oil into water. He turns, and when I don’t answer fast enough, he moves. It’s so quick that in two strides our chests are nearly touching. He tips my chin up with a rough gentleness that steals the air from my lungs.
“Axel…” His name comes out like a warning—or maybe a prayer.
“Tell me.” His voice scrapes low, a dark rasp that threatens and tempts in equal measure.
“Clients,” I whisper, cursing myself immediately. Where the hell is last week’s fire?
Axel grins, slow and wicked, like he’s tasting the fear and liking it. “See… I think you misunderstood when I told you who you belong to.”
“What?”
“You won’t have other clients.” It isn’t a suggestion. It’s a command.
“You can’t do that. You don’t?—”
“Own you?” he cuts me off. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
My stomach drops.
How is it possible for someone to be this dangerous, this twisted—and yet I still want to climb into his lap and beg for more?
Axel stalks around my desk, his hands trailing along the surface like he’s about to claim it—and maybe me—with one brutal motion. His movements are deliberate, predatory. The tailored slacks hug every inch of power and control.
I bite down on my lip so hard I taste copper.
“Ever been fucked on this desk?” he asks so casually it’s like he’s inquiring about the weather.
My mouth drops open. “Excuse me?”
He sinks into my chair, kicking his feet up onto the desk, and smirking like a king. His eyes eat up my reaction, daring me to challenge him.
Whatever spell he has me under, I snap out of it, storming forward to shove his feet off the desk. “Axel, that’s none of your?—”
“I’ll take that as a no,” he interrupts, standing up abruptly and closing the distance between us. His fingers brush the desk one last time before he moves in.
“Why are you here?” I demand. “I told you to call.”
“You think I’d give you a heads-up like some fuckin’ golden retriever?” he growls.
I huff, placing my hands on my hips. “Would’ve been decent .”
His eyes darken. “Then clearly, you’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with.”
Clearly .
I take another step back, needing space, air—anything that isn’t him swallowing me whole.
“You never told me why you became a lawyer,” he muses, his voice now dripping in something low and intimate. His gaze stays fixed, predatory, tracking every backward step I take.
“And you never told me why you’re really here.” I retreat until the cool glass of the door kisses my spine. It’s a sharp contrast to the molten heat that flares in my core.
Axel cages me in with both palms against the glass, his breath mingling with mine. “I think you’ve forgotten who’s in charge, Cassie.”
“I think you’ve forgotten who’s saving your ass,” I whisper, defiance underscoring my tone.
“Did Trigger feed you that line?” he snarks. Something feral flickers in his eyes—possessive, volatile. Like I’m already his, and the very idea of someone else stepping in infuriates him.
I tilt my head defiantly. “You think I can’t speak for myself?”
He studies me for a moment and I’m not sure whether he wants to rip me apart or kiss me senseless.
“You want me on my knees for you? Is that it?”
His grin is sinful. “Now that sounds like a proposition.”
He leans in, and I gasp as his nose drags across my neck—slow, savoring, deadly. I shudder, my body betraying me as fire pools low in my belly.
“What’s the matter?” he murmurs against my skin .
I don’t answer. I can’t. My breath is stolen from my lungs, my words caught in my throat.
“Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you haven’t thought about screaming my name.”
“You’re a pig,” I snap, desperate to break the spell.
He laughs loud, the sound low and cruel. “No, your roommate’s the pig. Dou fuck pigs?”
My hand moves before my brain does, fury surging through me.
The sound of my palm connecting with his cheek cracks across the office. His head snaps to the side while my skin stings from the impact. He touches his jaw, tongue darting out to lick his lip like he enjoyed it.
He grins. Something dark and savage swims in his obsidian gaze. “There it is,” he rasps. “I knew you had some fight in you.”
I want to scream but I'm breathless. I want to throw something, but at the same time, I want to grab him by the collar and kiss him until I forget why I hate him.
And that’s the problem.
Axel takes a step back, chest heaving, grin fading into something colder. Something more controlled and calculated. “Keep that fire, counselor,” he murmurs. “I like it.”
He yanks the door without another word, and pushes past me. The door slams behind him, the echo rattling straight through me while I stand frozen in place, my breath uneven, my heart caught somewhere between rage and longing. The scent of him still lingers in the room—leather, smoke, arrogance.
And when I glance down, I realize my hand is still trembling from the slap. From touching him.
I can’t believe the nerve of him.
Actually, I can. I just don’t want to admit it.
By the time I get home, Cooper’s still out. I won’t lie—it’s a relief. He’s finally putting in the hours at work, which helps ease the guilt I’ve carried for years about how much of myself I’ve given to my cases. Maybe now he’ll start to understand .
The interaction with Axel has left me in a foul mood, the sour taste of it still coating my tongue.
Everything between Axel and me has shifted so fast, I haven’t had time to process any of it—his words, his aggression, that ridiculous dig about Cooper being a pig.
Was it jealousy ? Probably. But it wasn’t clear, and I hate that it’s occupying so much space in my head.
Maybe Axel’s just used to getting what he wants, and with Cooper around, I’m the one thing he can’t have. Cooper is a complication, an obstacle. At least, that’s how he’d see it.
Still, the mood I’ve been left in clings to me like smoke. I crawl into bed with a tight chest and a restless mind. My dreams offer no escape. Axel is there—in fragments, in shadows, in the heat of things unsaid.
When I peel myself out of bed the next morning, nothing’s improved. I’m running on broken sleep and pure caffeine. Axel’s voice still haunts the back of my mind, and I can’t shake the storm he left in his wake.
Relief finally comes in the form of silence.
No Axel. No Colombo. Just the low hum of fluorescent lights, and the promise of a quiet, uneventful day.
My shoulders finally start to loosen, the tension from the morning inching away with every step I take toward my office.
Maybe, just maybe, the worst is behind me.
Until I see him .
Of all the people I could’ve dealt with today, District Attorney Daniels was at the bottom of my list. I’ve never liked the man.
Obnoxious, smug, and so far up his own ass I’m amazed he can still breathe.
Every word out of his mouth is soaked in condescension.
Every glance is a silent judgment. He’s the kind of guy who corrects you just to hear himself talk and argues a point even when he’s dead wrong—because in his world, being loud matters more than being right.
I stop mid-step, my stomach twisting.
“What the hell is he doing here?” I mutter under my breath, loud enough for Jada to hear .