All Chapters of SEVEN DAYS TO SAY FOREVER : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The storm passed just before dawn, leaving the mountain wrapped in a heavy, blinding silence.I sat on the edge of the wooden cot, pulling my boots back on. The leather was still stiff from the damp heat of the fire. Across the small cabin, Axel was already standing by the timber door, throwing his heavy winter coat back over his shoulders. His hair was slightly rumpled, his jaw dark with a morning shadow. His mouth was a thin line, and his shoulders never relaxed. He looked completely composed, but the quiet tension in his frame told a different story."The radio lines are back up," he said. "Gerald has an extraction unit clearing the lower pass right now. We need to be on the staging deck in ten minutes.""Fine," I muttered, tying my laces with freezing fingers. "Let's go."The walk back down the ridge line was grueling. The fresh snow came up to our knees, but Axel walked slightly ahead, his broad back carving out a path through the snowbanks so I wouldn't lose my balance. I near

Axel*The white gauze wrapped around my right knuckles was already loosening. I pulled the cotton tab tight with my teeth, staring out the floor-to-ceiling glass of the Aspen Ridge Spa.Below, the thermal mineral pool steamed against the freezing Colorado air. Hazel was already down there, her dark hair pinned up, sitting on the stone ledge with her legs submerged in the turquoise water. She looked small from the third-story balcony. Small, and entirely too exposed to the family members currently circling the deck."The Tokyo restructuring lines are secure, sir," Gerald's voice came through my earpiece. "Elena's firm tried to ping our servers at noon, but the firewalls held.""Keep the block active," I muttered, my eyes never leaving Hazel's silhouette in the water. "What about the garage report?""Dominic used a master key override to access the snowmobile logs yesterday morning. The resort security team has a digital trail, but Richard Westbrook requested we don't involve local auth

*Hazel’s p.o.v*The cashmere sweater Axel had left on my dressing bed was three shades darker than the gray ones he usually wore. It smelled faintly of cedar and crisp alpine air. I pulled it over my head, burying my face in the collar for a brief second just to breathe it in. It was entirely too large for me, the hem falling past my hips, but when I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror, I didn't care. It felt like protection.A quiet knock sounded on the connecting door before it clicked open. Axel stood in the threshold, already dressed in a tailored black winter coat and dark trousers. His hair was slightly damp from the shower, but his eyes were unusually distant. Ever since we had slipped out of the spa locker room—ever since we had overheard Clara’s frantic whisper about London records—he had been wrapped in a dense, calculated silence."Are you ready?" he asked, his voice low. He didn't look at my face; his eyes drifted down to the way I was nervously fraying the edge

Dominic's povThe ice in my glass had melted down, floating in a double shot of single malt that tasted like peat and battery acid. I didn't care. I tipped the glass back, letting the whiskey burn down my throat, but it did absolutely nothing to melt the cold weight settled in my chest.Through the frosted panoramic windows of the resort’s secondary lounge, the alpine lake looked like a postcard. A rich man's playground. Ten minutes ago, I had watched from the terrace as Axel Blackwell carried Hazel off the ice.He had lifted her effortlessly. His heavy wool coat had shielded her from the wind, his long strides cutting through the snow while the press cameras flickered like dying stars around them. He looked like a protector. He looked like the man who belonged there.And I had just stood there. My knuckles had gone white against the wooden railing, paralyzed by the sudden, sickening realization that I was entirely on the outside looking in."Another, Mr. Dominic?" the bartender asked

HAZEL'S POV The Grand Ballroom of the alpine resort was suffocating. Crystal chandeliers hung like heavy icicles from the vaulted ceilings, casting a brilliant, blinding light over two hundred of the East Coast’s elite. Ice sculptures melted slow, weeping trails onto silver platters, and the hum of polite, wealthy conversation sounded like a swarm of hornets.I stood at the edge of the room, my hand resting lightly on the sleeve of Axel’s black dinner jacket. Outwardly, I was the picture of a perfect billionaire fiancée in a silk emerald gown. Inwardly, my chest was tight, every muscle braced for a blow I knew was coming."Breathe, Hazel," Axel murmured, his voice so low it was meant only for me. He didn't look down at me; his dark eyes were scanning the room, cold and calculating. "Christian’s team just bypassed the Zurich firewall. The final uncorrupted signature logs hit my server five minutes ago. It's over."Before I could ask what he meant, Clara Westbrook materialized from th