On Her Daddy’s Bed.

The ride from the airport to Axel’s house was long, the city lights blurring past as Hazel sat in silence, her mind lost in a mix of emotions. When they finally pulled into the compound of his home, her breath caught in her throat.

She stepped out of the Land Cruiser Prado as a guard opened the door for her, and the moment her feet touched the ground, her eyes lifted to the magnificent structure before her.

Her lips parted slightly in awe. The building loomed before her like a modern skyscraper, its sleek glass walls shimmering under the Washington skyline. Even though she was from a wealthy family, she couldn’t help but admire the architectural masterpiece before her.

A deep breath filled her lungs as she took in the grand security setup surrounding the property. The sheer number of guards stationed around made her stomach twist with unease.

“The house won’t fuck you, momma. Don’t rip its glass.”

Axel’s voice cut through her thoughts, his teasing tone sending a wave of irritation through her.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes before choosing to ignore his choice of words.

“Your house is beautiful,” she admitted, deciding to focus on the impressive view.

“Is that a compliment?” he mused.

“Tag it whatever, Axel. I’m hungry.” She pressed a hand against her stomach, making her point clear.

A smirk curled at his lips. “You didn’t turn into a foodie overnight, did you? ’Cause I won’t be able to handle one.”

“You can send me out if you want,” she shot back coldly, her frustration bubbling over. “I don’t even want to stay here.”

Axel chuckled, unfazed by her attitude. “You know your dad would rather I be the one holding onto your waist every fucking time than some other man doing it.” He winked at her, and she huffed in exasperation.

She hated how he always had a response ready, as if nothing could shake him.

“Let’s go,” he urged, and they both walked toward the entrance.

Axel had been Mr. Marco’s best friend since losing his older brother in college. Even though Marco was significantly older, he had taken Axel in as a brother, honoring the bond he once shared with Alex—Axel’s late brother—before his untimely death from an unknown illness.

“The elevator would be much better, momma. The stairs will hurt your legs,” Axel remarked, pressing the button for the floor where her room was located.

“Why build it so tall when you’re the only one living here?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“And some guards,” he corrected, his smug expression making her snap her mouth shut.

She rolled her eyes, refusing to object further.

As they stepped into the elevator, Hazel’s body tensed. A shiver ran through her, her fingers curling tightly around the fabric of her dress.

The familiar fear clawed at her chest.

She had always hated elevators—hated confined spaces. The walls felt like they were closing in, and her breathing turned shallow. Her hands grew clammy, her vision slightly hazy as the anxiety took hold. She should have just objected but no. She was rather too stubborn.

Axel noticed the shift immediately. His eyes darkened as realization dawned on him.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. He had completely forgotten that she was claustrophobic.

Without hesitation, he reached for her, pulling her against him in a firm yet comforting hold.

She stiffened, trying to push him away, but his arms tightened around her.

“Stay here, momma,” he murmured, his voice softer now.

A sharp jolt ran through her stomach at the warmth of his touch, her body betraying her as a wave of unexpected comfort settled over her.

Her cheek pressed against his solid chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat oddly soothing. His hand slid lower, resting at the curve of her waist, his fingers pressing slightly as if reassuring her that he was there.

Hazel hesitantly lifted her gaze, her breath catching as she found his dark eyes staring down at her. His face was unreadable, but the tension in his jaw and the flicker of something unspoken in his eyes made her pulse stammer.

She tried to pull away again, but his grip remained firm.

“I’m here, momma,” he whispered against her hair, his deep voice sending an unfamiliar heat rushing through her veins.

She swallowed hard.

For the first time, Hazel felt something she couldn’t explain. A solace she hadn’t expected. A warmth she never thought she’d associate with him—the man she had convinced herself she disliked.

Yes, he had always been around, a presence in her life as her father’s best friend, but she had never truly seen him. He was an idol, someone women chased after—something she had always found distasteful.

She preferred men who weren’t constantly in the spotlight. Axel was the complete opposite. He was an icon, the CEO of a world-renowned fashion company, with women throwing themselves at his feet.

The elevator was taking too long.

Axel exhaled, shifting uncomfortably. He hated the way she fit so perfectly against him, hated the way her scent filled his lungs, and most of all, hated the way his body responded to the warmth of her touch.

This was only her first day here, and already, things were pushing them into dangerous territory.

With her body so close, her curves pressed against him, he wasn’t sure how long he could resist the temptation of touching her.

Finally, the elevator doors slid open, and both of them released a breath at the same time.

Axel let loose of her, and Hazel immediately stepped out, practically running from the suffocating tension between them.

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest as he followed her.

They walked in silence for a few moments before stopping in front of a beautifully designed door.

“This will be your room, momma,” he announced smoothly.

“Hazel. My name is Hazel,” she corrected with an annoyed glare.

Axel scoffed, a smirk teasing the corner of his lips.

“Doesn’t it sound weird? Calling you Hazel? It’s like I’m calling out my own name. I wonder why everything had to be so similar.”

She ignored his teasing and opened the door.

But the moment her eyes landed on the room before her, she froze.

A lump formed in her throat, her vision blurring slightly as an overwhelming wave of emotion hit her.

The room was identical to the one she had left behind in Texas. And Axel had gone past limits to decorate it in exact form the moment he learned about her coming.

“How did you do this?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

The familiarity of the space tugged at something deep inside her. She had mourned the loss of her old room, but now, standing here, she felt a sense of security she hadn’t expected.

Axel leaned against the doorway, watching her reaction with calm, observant eyes.

“Would you pay me if I told you?” he mused, his voice smooth.

She scoffed, shaking her head.

“You’re unbelievable.”

Axel simply smirked and stepped into the room with slow, deliberate strides.

Hazel turned, her heart clenching when her gaze landed on the portrait she cherished the most—perfectly placed, just as it had been in her old room.

She exhaled shakily.

“Thank you, Axel,” she breathed, her voice sincere.

A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes before he gave a slight nod.

“Freshen up and come downstairs. I’ll have the maids prepare your favorite food.”

Her lips parted slightly at his thoughtfulness.

“Thank you,” she whispered again, softer this time.

Axel stared at her for a lingering second before turning away, leaving her alone to soak in the familiarity of her new space.

For the first time since arriving, she felt something unexpected—a feeling of home.