All Chapters of SEVEN DAYS TO SAY FOREVER : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Hazel’s POVThe interior of the SUV became a rolling war room before we even cleared the airport perimeter.Axel didn't shout. He didn't lose his temper. Instead, a terrifying, hyper-focused stillness settled over him that was far more intimidating than anger. He took the phone directly from Christian’s hand, his voice dropping into a razor-sharp, lethal register. "Find him. I don’t care how many resources it takes. And if your firm failed to maintain that security perimeter, we’ll discuss the consequences later."He slammed the phone onto the center console and turned to Christian. "We aren't going to the penthouse in Manhattan. If Richard breaks his house arrest, he’s desperate. Take us to the secure estate in Greenwich. I want biometric lockdowns active the second the tires cross the gate.""On it, sir," Christian said, his fingers flying across his tablet as he redirected the trailing security motorcade.I sat back against the leather seat, the adrenaline from my tarmac declaratio

Axel’s POVMy father had built the Blackwell legacy to resemble a fortress, but he had forgotten that fortresses are designed to keep people out, not to keep a family together.By three o'clock that afternoon, the quiet of the Greenwich estate was broken not by a siren or a tabloid drone, but by the smooth, quiet purr of a vintage Rolls-Royce clearing the biometric security gates. My mother had arrived. And she hadn't come alone."They're in the grand library, sir," Christian reported, his voice dropping into a tightly controlled, almost formal register as he met me in the long gallery. He didn't have to name them. He simply handed me a fresh tablet displaying a locked communication channel with our corporate crisis team. "Your grandfather insisted on accompanying her. He bypassed the Manhattan security detail entirely. And your cousin Nathan is trailing them in the secondary vehicle."I rolled my sleeves back down, buttoning my cuffs with mechanical, deliberate movements. "And the pr

Hazel’s POVThe dark water didn’t break as we slid into it; it simply parted, a warm, seamless velvet that swallowed the winter chill completely.Axel didn't let go of my hand as we moved into the deeper end of the stone basin. The plain white t-shirt he wore clung to the heavy, clean lines of his chest, and his dark hair was damp, reflecting the pale, silver glow of the moon slicing through the skylights far above. Everything about the pavilion was silent, save for the low, rhythmic lapping of the water against the slate coping and the synchronized sound of our breathing.When my feet could no longer touch the bottom, Axel’s arm slid around my waist. He anchored me effortlessly against his chest, his large palm resting flat against my lower back, grounding us both in the deep water."You're sure about this, Hazel?" he whispered, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that sent a violent, heavy shiver straight down my spine. "The world outside those gates isn't going to stop spinning tomo

Hazel’s POVThe grandfather clock in the long gallery struck seven, its deep, resonant toll sounding uncomfortably like a countdown.Axel didn't let go of my wrist until we reached the grand foyer. The quiet, vulnerable man who had held me by the dark water of the pool pavilion was completely gone, sealed beneath flawless slate-gray tailoring and a crisp white collar. His corporate armor was pristine, but the pulse drumming against my fingers where he held me was fast, hot, and electric."I am leaving three teams inside the building," Axel said. He turned to face me, his hands sliding up to grip my shoulders. "Christian stays here to manage the local police liaison. The gates are on a biometric lockout. If a single sensor trips, you go straight to the basement vault. Do you hear me, Hazel?""I hear you," I said, reaching up to lay my palms flat against his chest. I could feel the hard, unyielding line of his ribs. "Stop looking at me like you're leaving me on a battlefield, Axel. Go t

Hazel’s POVThe door didn't crash open. It swung inward on its massive, grease-slicked hinges with a slow, agonizing hiss that was worse than a violent breach.Dominic stepped directly in front of my mother and me, his hand slipping into the waistband of his trousers, gripping the cold steel handle of a compact weapon. His weight shifted forward, our boots slamming against the cold concrete floor."Get behind the server rack, Hazel," he ordered under his breath, his eyes locked onto the black vacuum of the stairwell. "Don't look back."The silhouette that stepped into the pulsing crimson light of the basement corridor wasn't towering or monstrous. It was a man in an impeccably tailored, dark cashmere overcoat, his silver hair neatly combed back despite the chaos of his escape. Richard Sterling didn't look like a fugitive on the run from federal marshals. He carried himself with the same smooth, terrifying elegance he used when he was executing a hostile takeover from a Manhattan high-