AVERY'S POV:
"Good job, wifey," Axel murmured against my ear as we stepped out of the elevator. "You're a fine actress."
His voice was mischievous—almost like he was testing me, waiting to see if I’d break character now that we were alone. But I held my ground, even as the heat of his breath on my skin ignited an involuntary fire within my core.
The last few hours had been a whirlwind. From the moment I sat in the makeup chair, watching the artist transform me into a woman I barely recognized, to the second I stepped into Axel’s office, my heels clicking against the polished marble, every moment had felt surreal. The office itself was a show to the kind of wealth that made people listen before they even knew your name. But it wasn’t the decor that had shaken me. It was him.
Axel
