Chapter 5 FIVE

ADDISON

The silence in the back of the town car was a living thing. It was thick and heavy, pressing in on me from all sides, it was suffocating. Outside, the city lights blurred into streaks of gold and white, but inside, it felt like we were frozen in time. I could still feel the heat of his hand on my back, a brand that hadn't faded. I could still see the pure, cold fury on Axel's face when he'd looked at Feign. It was murderous in all forms.

I had to say something. The quiet was going to make me scream.

"Thank you," I started, my voice sounding too loud. "For what you did back there with Feign. You really didn't have to... I mean, the threat was a little..."

"It wasn't a threat," he said, his voice a low rumble. He wasn't even looking at me, his profile a sharp, dark cut-out against the window. "It was a fact. I would have done what I said and so much more Addison, I'm not your typical gentleman."

A shiver went down my spine. It was the way he said it. So sure. So final. Like he was just stating that the sky was blue or that water was wet. He wasn't boasting; he was just telling the truth. "Yeah, I know that now."

"Smart girl." He said, and somehow it felt like the best compliment ever, people have called me hot, beautiful, gorgeous but hearing a compliment from him felt so good. What the hell was wrong with me?

"How did you know?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of my fear. "How did you know that would work?"

He finally turned his head, and those green eyes pinned me in place. "Does it bother you? The way I handled it?"

I thought about it. I really thought about it. The memory of Feign's face, the fear that had replaced his anger. "It was scary," I admitted, being honest. "But it was also a relief. A big one. So, no. It doesn't bother me."

He gave a single, slow nod, as if my answer was important. "In my world, Addison, showing weakness is not an option. That applies to you now, too."

His world. The words hung in the air. What world was that? The world of billionaires? It felt like something more.

The car pulled up to the Castino, smooth as ever. The driver came around to open my door, and I stepped out into the cool night air, expecting Axel to just drive away. But he didn't. His door opened too, and he got out.

"I'll see you to your place," he said, falling into step beside me.

We walked through the glittering, empty lobby, our footsteps echoing. The night doorman gave a respectful nod, his eyes wide with curiosity. The whole city would know by morning.

We reached the bank of private elevators and I pressed the call button. The tension was back, that strange, electric feeling that seemed to buzz between us whenever we were close. I turned to him, wanting to say something else, to break the weirdness, to break the silence. I wasn't the typical yapper, but around him, I just felt I had to talk to speak to him every time. It was a pull towards him that felt and scary at the same.

Without really thinking, I reached out and placed my hand on his forearm, where his sleeve was rolled up.

I yanked my hand back instantly. "Oh my god!"

His skin wasn't just warm. It was hot. Like he had a raging fever.

"Axel, are you sick? You're burning up!" I said, my concern instantly overriding everything else. I reached out again, more carefully this time, pressing the back of my hand to his neck. It was like touching a radiator, he stared down at my hand on his neck, looking back into my eyes. Oh shit! "I'm sorry I was a bit worried, I didn't mean to touch you like t-that... Anyway, you have a fever. A really bad one. Why didn't you say something? We should go to a hospital."

He looked down at where my hand had been, then back at my face. His expression was unreadable. "I don't have a fever."

"What do you mean you don't have a fever?" I exclaimed, my voice rising. "Your temperature is through the roof! Why the hell is it that high? If you're sick, you should be in bed, not at a party!"

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "I have a naturally high body temperature. It's... normal for me."

I stared at him, baffled. "Naturally high? How is that even possible?"

He looked away, back towards the lobby entrance, his posture stiff. "It gets higher when I'm angry."

The statement was so absurd, so completely unexpected, that a startled laugh burst out of me. "What? You're kidding, right? Like a human thermometer? When you're angry, you just... what, boil over?"

He turned his head, and his gaze slammed into me. There was no humor in his eyes. None. Just a deep, aching intensity that shut down my laughter instantly. It was a look that said the conversation was over. A look that said I had just stepped over a line I couldn't see.

"It's not a joke," he said, his voice flat and final.

The elevator arrived with a soft ping. The doors slid open.

"Goodnight, Addison," he said. He didn't move to get in with me. He just stood there, a hot, angry, mysterious statue, waiting for me to leave.

"Goodnight," I whispered, stepping backward into the elevator.

As the doors closed, I saw him still standing there, watching me, his hands clenched at his sides. The last thing I saw was the fierce, hot light in his green eyes, and I knew, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that he hadn't been lying. He wasn't sick. Why on earth was his temperature that high?

Something was very, very different about Axel Rex. And I had no idea what I had just gotten myself into.