I didn't bother using the buzzer. I hammered my fists against Axel’s penthouse door until the metal rattled.

When it swung open three seconds later, Axel was standing there drenched in sweat, wearing nothing but black athletic shorts and hand wraps. He had clearly been hitting his private gym. The sight of his cut torso and sharp jawline didn't phase me; I had seen him look a mess since we were toddlers.

"Nice look. Very... angry underground fighter," I breathed, shoving past him into the marble foyer.

Axel wiped his brow with a towel, tracking my frantic pacing. "Hazel, it’s past midnight. Did your design studio flood again?"

I kicked off my sneakers, my hands shaking. "Worse. My entire reputation is about to be erased from existence."

Axel shut the door, the heavy locks clicking into place. He didn't ask questions. He walked straight over to the smart-home panel, tapped a button to drop the blackout blinds across the entire penthouse, and turned to face me. He always went into lockdown mode whenever I started hyperventilating.

"Give it to me straight," Axel said, his tone dropping into that cold, corporate authority he used in boardrooms. "Do I need to liquidate an asset, call my legal team, or help you hide a car? What happened?"

"My stepsister is throwing a wedding," I managed to say, my throat tightening.

Axel frowned, tossing his towel onto a chair. "Clara getting married is a tragedy for the groom, but why are you having a panic attack in my hallway about it?"

"She’s marrying Dominic Reed."

Axel stopped dead in his tracks. His gray eyes turned to ice, his entire frame going rigid. "Wait. Dominic? The pathetic excuse of a man who left you at the altar twelve months ago?"

I nodded miserably.

"Unbelievable," Axel growled, his knuckles cracking beneath the wraps. "Is that even allowed? Is there no basic family boundary she won't cross just to spite you?"

"She sent the invite via an elite courier service in a matte black box," I cried, waving my hands. "She did it to destroy me, Axel."

Axel stepped forward, grabbing my wrists gently to stop my flailing arms and pulling me into a firm, solid embrace. "I’m sorry, Hazel. Go sit on the couch. I’ll open a bottle of wine, and you can call out of work tomorrow. We'll ignore the entire world."

I pulled back sharply, the room spinning slightly from the movement. Axel’s hands instantly moved to my waist to keep me upright.

"Hazel—easy. Your vertigo is kicking up."

I ignored the dizziness and grabbed the front of his sweat-dampened shirt, staring up at him like a crazy person. "Don't hate me. I did something reckless. Something incredibly stupid."

Axel narrowed his eyes, a hint of amusement breaking through his tension. "What did you do?"

"Promise you won't throw me off this balcony first."

"Hazel."

"Promise me, Axel! Or I'm locking myself in your guest bathroom."

He let out a heavy sigh, releasing my waist. "Fine. I promise. Now speak before I lose my mind."

I swallowed hard and let it rip. "I told Clara that you and I are getting married."

Axel stared at me, completely paralyzed. "You did what?"

"She was gloating about Aspen, and calling me a charity case, and I lost it! I told her we’ve been secretly dating for months and just kept it away from the media to protect your billionaire status."

He rubbed the back of his neck, a harsh chuckle breaking from his lips. "So you broke into my place at midnight to recruit me as a fake fiancé because you used my name to win a shouting match with your stepsister?"

"Yes."

He walked over to his kitchen island, leaning his heavy frame against the marble. "Hazel, I’m scheduled to fly to Tokyo next week. A five-day tech summit. Private dinners, luxury suites, and networking with international CEOs. I’ve been planning this for six months."

I stepped closer, putting on my best puppy-dog eyes. "Tokyo will always be there. But my dignity won't. Think of this as a high-stakes corporate negotiation. Just... with snow."

He shot me a dry look. "Hazel."

"Axel, please! You're the only guy I know who can actually pull this off without my family sniffing out a lie."

"That's because I'm the only billionaire in your contact list," Axel muttered, though his posture relaxed. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and took a long swig. "Let me get this straight. We are flying into the lion's den in Aspen, staying at your ex's family estate, and pretending to be madly in love for a solid week?"

I nodded quickly. "Exactly."

"I have a counter-proposal," Axel said, setting the bottle down. "I’ll wire enough cash to buy out your design firm's lease tonight. You can tell them you're too busy running an empire to attend. Let me go to Tokyo."

I crossed my arms. "Money can't buy the look on Clara's face when you walk into that chalet holding my hand. Please, Axel. I can't face Dominic alone. I need my best friend."

Axel remained quiet for a long moment, his intense gaze mapping out my stressed face. The coldness in his eyes melted into something warm and fiercely protective. "You've been a pain in my ass since the third grade, Sterling."

"Is that a yes?" I whispered, my heart stopping.

Axel shook his head, a small smile finally breaking through. "Pack your bags. Let's go make your ex regret every decision he’s ever made."

A squeal left my lips as I threw myself at him, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck. "Thank you! You are officially the greatest human alive."

"Yeah, keep reminding me of that when I'm freezing in Colorado," he murmured, his arms wrapping around my back to hold me close. He let me down slowly, his eyes dropping to my face. "There's just one problem."

"What?"

"If we’re engaged, we have to act like it," Axel said, his voice dropping into a low, husky register. "We can't just stand around looking like childhood buddies, Hazel. People watch how couples touch."

The sudden shift in the air made my breath hitch. I backed up a step, my back hitting the edge of the kitchen counter. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, we need to know how to look convincing," Axel murmured, closing the distance between us. The playful banter was entirely gone. He leaned down, his face inches from mine, his gray eyes locking onto my mouth. "Are you going to flinch if I hold your waist at dinner? What about when we have to kiss in front of your mother?"

My heart hammered violently against my ribs, an entirely new kind of panic taking over. Axel’s gaze was heavy, dangerous, and intoxicating. He leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing mine—

Panicking, I grabbed a heavy leather boxing glove resting on the counter next to me to push him back, but my clumsy fingers slipped. The thick glove fell right off the edge, landing with a loud, heavy thud directly onto his bare foot.

Axel hopped backward instantly, his face twisting in pain as he clutched his foot. "Ow! What the hell, Hazel?!"

I burst into a fit of nervous laughter, holding my hands up. "Consider it a test of your reflexes! A true finance mogul should never be caught off guard."

Axel groaned, leaning against the wall and shaking his head. "You are a menace to society."

"But I'm your menace," I teased, finally feeling the weight lift from my chest.

Our laughter was cut short when Axel’s phone lit up on the counter, vibrating against the stone. He picked it up, his expression instantly hardening as he stared at the screen.

"What is it?" I asked, the dread returning.

Axel turned the screen toward me. It was a direct message notification on his private account.

"Hazel," Axel said, his voice turning dead quiet. "Why is Dominic Reed sending me a message request at one in the morning?"

Mom:

"I am counting down the seconds to meet your new fiancé, darling!!"

Aunt Carol:

"Oh my god!!! Clara mentioned he is an absolute KNOCKOUT."

Clara:

"Yaaaay! Words cannot express how thrilled I am for you, Hazel!"

I scoffed at the last pair of notifications lighting up the family thread.

Clara had absolutely no clue what Axel actually looked like in reality—aside from the fact that she was currently aggressively analyzing his digital footprint across the web.

Exactly like her soon-to-be groom.

The intense clattering of mechanical keys echoed through our design firm. Outside lines rang simultaneously across the floor. The heavy aroma of dark roast espresso and fresh blueprint toner hung thick in the air.

I remained at my drafting desk, desperately mimicking productivity while my phone continuously pulsed against the mahogany surface. If this distraction didn't stop, my hyper-critical director, Victoria Vance, wouldn't think twice about pulling my contract.

Yet another alert vibrated. Several junior designers nearby flashed me an annoyed look, which forced me to flip the screen flat onto the wood.

The rumors back home had officially spread like wildfire...

'Hazel Sterling was returning to the family circle with a partner. For only the second time in her life.'

Except this time, he was her fiancé. She was arriving with Axel Blackwell.

My ex was walking down the aisle and a momentary panic had trapped me in the grandest deception of my life. There was no backing out now.

A firm rap sounded against my glass partition.

I raised my head.

Our administrative intern stood there, carefully balancing a striking, matte-finished carbon display box that looked incredibly dense. It was the absolute definition of an object that whispered, *generational fortunes rest inside.*

Though honestly, modern military contraband was typically shipped in sleek cases like this, too.

"Special delivery dropped off for you," the intern whispered.

I eyed the container. "Is there something ticking in there?"

The intern gave a small shrug. "If it is, it's ticking with an elite serial number."

I inspected the dark case with extreme caution. "Does it indicate the sender?"

The intern simply shrugged a second time.

The neighboring team members started whispering to each other, tilting their heads to catch a glimpse of the luxury package sitting on my desk.

"Awesome. Thank you."

The container wasn't quite as heavy as its appearance suggested when I quickly grabbed it and searched for a vacant supply room to secure myself in. I placed the case down on an empty layout table and unsealed the security strip, hunting for an attached card.

Inside sat a custom, flawless emerald-cut diamond ring. The kind of rock that wrapped around your skin like a permanent assertion of absolute power.

This wasn't some basic retail jewelry. This was THE ring.

A breathtaking, platinum-set, high-clarity masterpiece with an brilliant center jewel that declared the wearer's arrival without uttering a single word.

Wow.

Directly beneath the velvet mount sat the short message I had been looking for, penned in sharp, fluid brushstrokes of black ink that carried a trace of high-end cologne.

"Figured if we are going to sell this narrative to high society, you need to look like heartbreak personified. No need to liquidate your vehicle for a ring... - A."

My fingers shook as I processed the handwritten note three separate times. Then, I dialed his private line.

He answered before the second buzz. "Did the package arrive safely?"

My voice emerged completely tight. "Axel... This rock looks like it belongs under heavy museum security. Not at a ski lodge in Aspen."

"Precisely."

"I honestly didn't think you were paying attention to my breakdown last night."

"I am always paying attention to you, Hazel."

I swallowed hard, anchoring my eyes to the shimmering stone. "What did this actually cost you?"

"Sufficient to completely destabilize your stepsister's mental peace."

I went dead silent for a second, and then an unprompted laugh broke right past my lips. "You are utterly unhinged," I breathed.

"You are very welcome," he answered smoothly. "You aren't entering that estate looking like a pathetic warning sign for exes. You are walking in like a historical event."

My pulse thudded violently against my ribcage. "I could literally kiss you right now."

"You will have to," Axel noted, his tone completely level, stable, and deep. "Right in front of your entire family tree. Constantly."

"Oh, God... it sounds infinitely more terrifying when you verbalize it like that," I whimpered, resting my head against the supply door.

"And right under your ex-fiancé's nose, too," Axel supplemented.

"Now that part, I am genuinely eager for," I chuckled. "He is still trying to get in touch with you?"

"Inexplicably, yes. I get the distinct impression he suspects this is a complete charade, or that one of us is merely exploiting the other."

"What?"

"The guy insists he understands you... on a much more intimate level," Axel muttered, his underlying tone shifting slightly.

"What is he implying by that?"

"He claims to be overjoyed for our future, but then he goes out of his way to tell me you used to swear you'd never get involved with a corporate finance executive because they lack 'soul.' What is the backstory there?"

My palms turned to instant frost. "And how did you respond to that?"

"Me? I simply inquired about how much his psychiatric bills cost per hour."

I erupted into a fit of laughter right there in the dark supply closet. "I can vividly visualize his furious expression."

"You know, you really could have named Mark from the design group? Or Ethan from accounting..." Axel proposed with a laugh. "The more anonymous the suitor, the simpler this would be."

"They are both my literal exes, Axel. Every single person in that wretched family chat knows the exact dates I severed ties with them. Furthermore, Ethan only hung around long enough to serve a very temporary function."

"Gross... please erase that from my memory."

I could instantly imagine Axel crinkling his nose in absolute revulsion on the other end of the connection.

"Where are you currently located anyway? You aren't sitting at your desk, are you?"

"Nope. Seeing as my executive vacation window was revoked two hours after it was approved, I am stretching what liberty I have left before I am pulled into the Westbrook family circus."

I cringed. "I am truly sorry."

He effortlessly brushed off the apology. "Amusement is where you find it, love. I'll make sure Aspen is entertaining."

"I seriously doubt that."

"Baby," Axel murmured, his pitch transitioning into something incredibly rich, intimate, and low, "I am about to play the most convincing fake partner you've ever encountered."

"I am counting down the minutes."

"Well, I have to step out, there is a stunning blonde throwing signals my way from across this lounge. I am about to get lucky... I will ping you later, love!" he said rapidly right before the line cut out.

Classic Axel.

I held up the massive rock against my hand in front of the full-length showroom glass and captured a crisp, high-resolution photo. I drafted a swift, casual text string to pair with the image before firing it straight to the stepsister from hell.

"Hey Clara, just verifying—this diamond matches the exact clarity profile you wanted for the winter backdrop, right? I know how meticulous you get about the visual layout."

I tapped send and let out a slow breath as the three animated dots danced across my screen.

Suddenly... they vanished.

A small microphone graphic materialized in their place.

*Voicenote incoming...*

I stalled for an entire hour, staring at the screen with mounting anxiety, before finally hitting the play icon. Absolutely nothing positive ever results from Clara sending an audio file.

"Hazel, I feel like that rock is a bit too loud. It gives off the impression that you're... desperately begging for attention? You're going to look like you're trying to completely outshine me at my own wedding, sister. Not that such a thing is even remotely achievable, but still... I just had to offer my honest opinion. That mount is far too... dramatic. I didn't realize it would be this over-the-top when I pictured your guest. But I'll accept responsibility for that. And honestly, sis, that piece looks way too expensive for your career by the way. And what's with that aggressive cut? Will your gentle pride hold up if your vertigo sends you tumbling face-first into a snowdrift? Well, you're one resilient old bird, Hazel. How did you even talk him into purchasing that for you? Whatever. I don't care to know the messy background details. Got to run! Love you, sis!"

My hands shook with a violent intensity. My breathing shifted into sharp, chaotic gasps.

How dare that little snake.

Oh, Clara, this isn't a family gathering anymore. This is a scorched-earth campaign.

And may the best groom survive.

"You cannot be serious."

I stared at the boarding pass in my hand, my voice echoing off the polished marble of the private terminal lounge.

"Oh, I am completely serious, sweetie," Clara’s voice cooed behind me.

I spun around to find my stepsister standing there, looking like an absolute winter catalog ad in a cream-colored cashmere trench coat, pristine white designer luggage stacked behind her. Standing right beside her was Dominic.

My stomach violently turned. Dominic looked exactly the same—tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing that same arrogant, expensive cologne that used to make my head swim. But looking at him now, standing hand-in-hand with my stepsister, all I felt was a hot, blinding surge of adrenaline.

Dominic’s eyes instantly locked onto mine, tracking down to the massive emerald-cut diamond ring glittering on my left hand. His jaw visibly tightened.

"Hazel," Dominic said, his voice dropping into that familiar low register that used to comfort me. Now, it just made my skin crawl. "It's... good to see you."

"Wish I could say the same, Dominic," I replied, keeping my voice as smooth as glass.

Clara immediately stepped between us, flashing a brilliant, razor-sharp smile. "Now, Hazel, don't be prickly. We have a long flight ahead of us. Though, unfortunately, we won't be sitting together. Dominic’s family booked out the entire first-class cabin for the core bridal party. I tried to pull strings to get you bumped up from coach, but the manifest was completely locked. You don't mind the main cabin, right? It's only a few hours."

She was doing it again. Smiling like an angel while burying a knife directly into my ribs.

"Actually," a deep, smooth baritone cut through the air behind me, "Hazel won't be setting foot near the main cabin."

We all turned.

Axel Blackwell walked into the private lounge like he owned the entire airport. He was dressed in a sleek, charcoal-grey tailored suit, a black overcoat slung effortlessly over one shoulder. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his piercing gray eyes locked directly onto Dominic with a cold, predatory intensity.

I felt my breath catch. Even though I knew this was an act, the sheer power radiating off him was intoxicating.

Clara’s mouth fell slightly open, her carefully planned poise instantly cracking the moment she saw him. "You... you must be Axel."

Axel completely ignored her extended hand. Instead, he stepped right past her, wrapping a solid, warm hand around my waist and pulling me flush against his side. He leaned down, pressing a lingering, soft kiss right against my temple.

"Sorry I'm late, love," Axel murmured, his voice laced with a thick, possessive warmth that sent a sudden shiver straight down my spine. "The board meeting ran over. Did you miss me?"

"Every second," I lied smoothly, leaning into his heavy frame.

Axel finally turned his gaze toward Clara and Dominic, his expression instantly shifting into one of icy boredom. "And you are?"

"Clara," my stepsister stammered, trying desperately to regain her footing. "Hazel’s sister. And this is my fiancé, Dominic Reed. We were just explaining to Hazel that the first-class cabin is fully booked by the Reed estate, so she'll have to take the commercial connection."

Dominic stepped forward, trying to match Axel’s height, his chest puffing out. "It's a private charter, Blackwell. Strictly family-funded. I'm sure a finance guy like you understands logistics."

Axel let out a short, mocking laugh that made Dominic’s face turn instantly red.

"Logistics?" Axel echoed, pulling a sleek black card from his wallet and tossing it onto the counter in front of the gate agent. "I don't deal with logistics, Reed. I deal with acquisitions."

Axel looked directly at the gate manager. "Cancel our reservations on this charter."

I blinked, my heart dropping. *What is he doing?!* "Axel?" I whispered under my breath.

Clara smirked, a triumphant gleam entering her eyes. "Oh, what a shame. I guess you two will have to catch a regular flight tomorrow. Try not to miss the rehearsal dinner, Sav."

Axel didn't even look at her. He kept his eyes on the agent. "Get my personal Gulfstream prepped on Runway 4. Upgrade the catering to the platinum package, and ensure my fiancée’s favorite vintage champagne is waiting on ice."

The gate agent’s eyes went wide. "Right away, Mr. Blackwell."

Silence descended on the lounge like a heavy block of concrete.

Clara’s smirk completely vanished, her face turning a pale, sickly shade of green. Dominic looked as if he had just been slapped across the face in front of a stadium of people.

"We prefer our privacy anyway," Axel said smoothly, his hand sliding down to grip mine, his fingers intertwining with mine perfectly. The heat of his palm was the only thing keeping my knees from buckling. "A crowded charter feels so... mid-market. Don't you think, Dominic?"

Dominic’s fists clenched at his sides, his chest heaving as he stared at our joined hands. "You think you can just buy your way through this week, Blackwell?"

"I don't think, Reed. I know," Axel replied with a devastating grin. "Enjoy your shared cabin. Hazel and I will see you at the chalet."

Without waiting for a response, Axel turned, guiding me out of the lounge and toward the private hangar doors. The moment the glass doors shut behind us, cutting off my family's stunned expressions, I let out a massive breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"Axel, you are absolutely terrifying," I breathed, looking up at him.

"I told you, love," he murmured, his thumb absently rubbing against the back of my hand in a way that felt entirely too real. "We aren't playing defense this week. We are playing to destroy."

Ten minutes later, we were settled into the plush, cream leather seats of his private jet. The luxury was mind-blowing—gold accents, a personal chef, and a bed in the back cabin. As the jet lifted off the tarmac, climbing high into the winter clouds, Axel poured two glasses of champagne, handing one to me.

"To the start of total warfare," he said, clinking his glass against mine.

I smiled, the champagne bubbling against my lips. "To total warfare."

We spent the first hour of the flight reviewing the family tree, Axel memorizing every name and dynamic with the precision of a corporate raider. But the comfortable silence that followed was shattered when my phone vibrated violently against the armrest.

I picked it up, expecting another furious text from Clara. Instead, my breath froze in my throat.

It was an unread email notification sent directly to my private design studio account from a completely blank sender address. The subject line read: *The groom is keeping secrets.*

With trembling fingers, I tapped the attached multimedia file. It loaded a crystal-clear, high-resolution photograph taken via a hidden camera inside the Aspen chalet's master bedroom suite just one hour ago.

In the center of the frame was Dominic. But he wasn't alone. He was passionately pinning an incredibly beautiful, mysterious brunette up against the glass doors—and it absolutely wasn't my stepsister Clara.

"Axel," I gasped, the champagne glass slipping from my hand and shattering against the cabin floor, dark red liquid pooling on the white rug.

Axel was on his feet instantly, his gray eyes flashing with alarm as he grabbed my shoulders. "Hazel! What's wrong?"

"Look," I whispered, my voice completely shaking as I thrust the glowing screen toward his face. "Look at what my brother-in-law is doing before his own wedding."