THE DON'S CAPTIVE MISTRESS

HAZELThe next day, I went downstairs for dinner late. I always go a few seconds late. It’s my small act of rebellion, the only thing I can control in this golden mansion.Tonight, though, I’m furious. My blood is boiling from hours of silence and walls that don’t talk back. So instead of my usual two to four minutes, I make it fifteen. I walk slowly, deliberately, down the marble hall to the dining room, every step filled with defiance.But when I push open the doors, the table is empty..... No Axel.He’s always here. Always waiting, always on time with that cold stare, that unreadable expression. The sight of the empty chair hits me like a slap, and I just stand there, caught between confusion and anger.Why isn’t he here?I shouldn’t care. I don’t care. But somehow, the thought of him breaking our twisted little routine makes something inside me snap.I turn around, walking fast and nearly bump into Nico. Axel’s consigliere.I know every important person there is to know in Axel’s

HAZELI’m cautious, frozen beneath him, for a second I think he wont listen, but he surprisingly does. He stops kissing me. He stops touching me. He just... stops.But he’s still on top of me. His hands are on either side of my head, caging me in. I see him watching me, his chest tight, his forehead glistening, and he’s breathing hard as his dark, intense eyes lock on mine.He’s hard..... God, I can feel him between my legs as he stares down at me.There’s a storm in his eyes. Things I can’t name. Things I can’t understand. But beneath all that, the one thing I do recognize is Anger. Cold, quiet fury.He just stares at me while I lie there under him, my hands raised slightly, unsure if I’m about to push him away, or fight, or just... brace for whatever happens next.He’s the one in power.He’s the one in control.And right now, he could do anything.The room is dead silent except for the sound of our breathing. His heavy, ragged, mine trembling and shallow.He stares for so long I can

HAZELAxel nods once, his jaw tightening. “Okay. That’s how you want to do this?”I shrug, feigning innocence. “I don’t know What you mean.”He moves toward me, quick, silent, and my breath catches. He’s never hurt me, not physically, not once, but I’ve only been here three months. I don’t really know him. Not what he’s capable of. Not what he hides behind that calm, composed exterior.Still, I keep my chin up, that what-are-you-gonna-do look painted on my face.When he reaches the bed, he says softly,“Have it your way.”And before I can react, he’s grabbing me.I squeal, struggling as he pulls me off the bed. “Hey! Put me down!”He doesn’t. He lifts me effortlessly, tossing me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.I kick. I hit. I even try to bite, but it’s like fighting a machine. He locks one arm around my legs so I can’t move. Then we’re out of the room. Down the stairs.He doesn’t walk down....he skips steps, long strides, and my stomach flips with each bounce. My hair is eve

HAZELFine.I lift my chin, ignoring the burn in my chest, and start following him as he follows her.Kat leads us up a narrow staircase, hips swaying with every step like she knows he’s watching. Maybe he is. I don’t dare look at his face to confirm it. I don't care if he is watching.The music changes up here—it’s lower, heavier, a slow, deliberate rhythm that vibrates through the walls. The air smells different, too. Money. Perfume. Lust. The lights dim even more, just enough to see gold against black, and bodies pressed too close to be polite. There are booths shaped like half-moons, tables filled with champagne bottles and smoke, and people who look like they haven’t worked a single day in their lives.We reach the top floor, where the air changes. It’s quieter here, more exclusive. No one enters this area unless they have a name, power, or both. The walls are darker, lined with tinted glass that reflects the golden shimmer of the chandeliers. You can still hear the faint thump o

HAZELWhile I’m fighting with my inner self, Axel suddenly just stops laughing, just as quickly as he started. His laugh dies in his throat, and his face slips right back into place.It strikes me how easily he could do that. How easily he could switch from one person to another. As if the laughter, the laugh act, was just another manipulation. Another way to put me off balance.His eyes find mine, colder this time.“So, you done?” he asks.I don’t answer. I’m too stunned, too confused by his shift… by myself. I feel so stupid. For some reason, I was thinking he could be human, I guess.“Yeah, I’m done,” I finally say. “Can we get out of here now?”He’s quiet for a moment before he says, “No.”“Why?” I ask. “You didn’t seriously just come here to drink whiskey, did you? This whiskey is back at your house."" I have some business to get to.”“Then why bring me here if you knew you had something to do?” I snap.“Because you broke the rules,” he says, standing up and coming toward me. “Y