Page 7 of Axel

“Yes, ma’am,” Bruce tips his hat, “itsureis.”

I know, as I race up the steps into my brother-in-law’s hotel, Bruce is eye-humping my ass.

Good.

Let Axel watch him do it.

Yes, I know he stalks me. Yes, I knowAxelis his real name, not “Michael Cummings, Esquire,” as most know him. Yes, I know he’s into some shady shit. And yes, he’s my boss, and I hate him with a white-hot intensity.

Lording his law degree over me like he’s God. Lecturing me on boring statutes. Finding every mistake in my work and then just making shit up when there aren’t any.

Oh, and he’s a rich, smug, arrogant asshole, too.

And all the while, he’s stalking me?He’sbreaking the law?

He makes me nuclear. I’m one hairline crack in my concrete from blowing and wiping out this entire city.

Axel must think he’s so clever. He must getoff on it. I bet he listens to Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like The Wolf” while he chases me.

I wear earbuds, so he’ll think I’m oblivious, but I’m not. I’m listening to his footfalls crunching behind me.

I know he’ll be there every morning, waiting behind that oak tree in the park, and then he’ll follow me here. Hell, he even follows me home some nights, too.

This shit began a month after I started working for him, and that was a year ago.

Yes … ayear.

I was on my run and stopped to tie my sneakers; then, I got that tingling feeling. Maybe only women can sense it, I’m not sure, but it’s when you know you’re being followed. So, I snuck a glance over my shoulder and caught Axel lurking in a dark alley, barely peeking around the corner of a brick building.

At first, I thought it was funny. Then, I was flattered.

And a little aroused.

Alright, alright …a lotaroused.

I can’t help it. The man is a tower of hard, hot, inked, and fuckable flesh.

But after all these months, what’s his game? He’s never come on to me. He keeps his distance. And with the dickish ways he tortures me at work, too? It’s getting old. Real old. I’m so tempted to whip around one day and bust him, but it’s my only advantage.

It’s the ultimate power play—when the stalked stalks back.

I’ve been spying on my dickhead boss for nine months, and I’ve learned quite a lot.

My favorite nugget?

Axel is some kind of mafia king.

Yes, he’s a lawyer: one of the best, I hate to admit. But as much as he practices the law, he breaks it, and I’m justwaiting to prove it so I can shove it in his sexy, smug face, all while I push his buttons, too. Like a panel of circular lights in an elevator with fifty floors, I punch every one.

But my brother-in-law’s hotel has only eight floors, and I punch the button for the second.

With ading, the gold doors slide open. In a furious haze, habit takes me into the high-end hotel gym, where I turn into the women’s locker room. Here, I keep one locked and full of my products, with fresh dresses and heels for work.

I can’t afford a fancy gym membership, but I won’t take a red cent from my sister, Scarlett, or her billionaire husband, Luca. I’m broke on bills and pride. But Luca insisted that I at least make myself at home in his hotel, and it is convenient.

The Mercier Hotel is four blocks from Axel’s law office on Meeting Street. So I get free parking, a free shower after my run, and sometimes, a hug from my big sister when I need it most.

Speaking of…

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