SEVEN DAYS TO SAY FOREVER

"You cannot be serious."

I stared at the boarding pass in my hand, my voice echoing off the polished marble of the private terminal lounge.

"Oh, I am completely serious, sweetie," Clara’s voice cooed behind me.

I spun around to find my stepsister standing there, looking like an absolute winter catalog ad in a cream-colored cashmere trench coat, pristine white designer luggage stacked behind her. Standing right beside her was Dominic.

My stomach violently turned. Dominic looked exactly the same—tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing that same arrogant, expensive cologne that used to make my head swim. But looking at him now, standing hand-in-hand with my stepsister, all I felt was a hot, blinding surge of adrenaline.

Dominic’s eyes instantly locked onto mine, tracking down to the massive emerald-cut diamond ring glittering on my left hand. His jaw visibly tightened.

"Hazel," Dominic said, his voice dropping into that familiar low register that used to comfort me. Now, it just made my skin crawl. "It's... good to see you."

"Wish I could say the same, Dominic," I replied, keeping my voice as smooth as glass.

Clara immediately stepped between us, flashing a brilliant, razor-sharp smile. "Now, Hazel, don't be prickly. We have a long flight ahead of us. Though, unfortunately, we won't be sitting together. Dominic’s family booked out the entire first-class cabin for the core bridal party. I tried to pull strings to get you bumped up from coach, but the manifest was completely locked. You don't mind the main cabin, right? It's only a few hours."

She was doing it again. Smiling like an angel while burying a knife directly into my ribs.

"Actually," a deep, smooth baritone cut through the air behind me, "Hazel won't be setting foot near the main cabin."

We all turned.

Axel Blackwell walked into the private lounge like he owned the entire airport. He was dressed in a sleek, charcoal-grey tailored suit, a black overcoat slung effortlessly over one shoulder. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his piercing gray eyes locked directly onto Dominic with a cold, predatory intensity.

I felt my breath catch. Even though I knew this was an act, the sheer power radiating off him was intoxicating.

Clara’s mouth fell slightly open, her carefully planned poise instantly cracking the moment she saw him. "You... you must be Axel."

Axel completely ignored her extended hand. Instead, he stepped right past her, wrapping a solid, warm hand around my waist and pulling me flush against his side. He leaned down, pressing a lingering, soft kiss right against my temple.

"Sorry I'm late, love," Axel murmured, his voice laced with a thick, possessive warmth that sent a sudden shiver straight down my spine. "The board meeting ran over. Did you miss me?"

"Every second," I lied smoothly, leaning into his heavy frame.

Axel finally turned his gaze toward Clara and Dominic, his expression instantly shifting into one of icy boredom. "And you are?"

"Clara," my stepsister stammered, trying desperately to regain her footing. "Hazel’s sister. And this is my fiancé, Dominic Reed. We were just explaining to Hazel that the first-class cabin is fully booked by the Reed estate, so she'll have to take the commercial connection."

Dominic stepped forward, trying to match Axel’s height, his chest puffing out. "It's a private charter, Blackwell. Strictly family-funded. I'm sure a finance guy like you understands logistics."

Axel let out a short, mocking laugh that made Dominic’s face turn instantly red.

"Logistics?" Axel echoed, pulling a sleek black card from his wallet and tossing it onto the counter in front of the gate agent. "I don't deal with logistics, Reed. I deal with acquisitions."

Axel looked directly at the gate manager. "Cancel our reservations on this charter."

I blinked, my heart dropping. *What is he doing?!* "Axel?" I whispered under my breath.

Clara smirked, a triumphant gleam entering her eyes. "Oh, what a shame. I guess you two will have to catch a regular flight tomorrow. Try not to miss the rehearsal dinner, Sav."

Axel didn't even look at her. He kept his eyes on the agent. "Get my personal Gulfstream prepped on Runway 4. Upgrade the catering to the platinum package, and ensure my fiancée’s favorite vintage champagne is waiting on ice."

The gate agent’s eyes went wide. "Right away, Mr. Blackwell."

Silence descended on the lounge like a heavy block of concrete.

Clara’s smirk completely vanished, her face turning a pale, sickly shade of green. Dominic looked as if he had just been slapped across the face in front of a stadium of people.

"We prefer our privacy anyway," Axel said smoothly, his hand sliding down to grip mine, his fingers intertwining with mine perfectly. The heat of his palm was the only thing keeping my knees from buckling. "A crowded charter feels so... mid-market. Don't you think, Dominic?"

Dominic’s fists clenched at his sides, his chest heaving as he stared at our joined hands. "You think you can just buy your way through this week, Blackwell?"

"I don't think, Reed. I know," Axel replied with a devastating grin. "Enjoy your shared cabin. Hazel and I will see you at the chalet."

Without waiting for a response, Axel turned, guiding me out of the lounge and toward the private hangar doors. The moment the glass doors shut behind us, cutting off my family's stunned expressions, I let out a massive breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"Axel, you are absolutely terrifying," I breathed, looking up at him.

"I told you, love," he murmured, his thumb absently rubbing against the back of my hand in a way that felt entirely too real. "We aren't playing defense this week. We are playing to destroy."

Ten minutes later, we were settled into the plush, cream leather seats of his private jet. The luxury was mind-blowing—gold accents, a personal chef, and a bed in the back cabin. As the jet lifted off the tarmac, climbing high into the winter clouds, Axel poured two glasses of champagne, handing one to me.

"To the start of total warfare," he said, clinking his glass against mine.

I smiled, the champagne bubbling against my lips. "To total warfare."

We spent the first hour of the flight reviewing the family tree, Axel memorizing every name and dynamic with the precision of a corporate raider. But the comfortable silence that followed was shattered when my phone vibrated violently against the armrest.

I picked it up, expecting another furious text from Clara. Instead, my breath froze in my throat.

It was an unread email notification sent directly to my private design studio account from a completely blank sender address. The subject line read: *The groom is keeping secrets.*

With trembling fingers, I tapped the attached multimedia file. It loaded a crystal-clear, high-resolution photograph taken via a hidden camera inside the Aspen chalet's master bedroom suite just one hour ago.

In the center of the frame was Dominic. But he wasn't alone. He was passionately pinning an incredibly beautiful, mysterious brunette up against the glass doors—and it absolutely wasn't my stepsister Clara.

"Axel," I gasped, the champagne glass slipping from my hand and shattering against the cabin floor, dark red liquid pooling on the white rug.

Axel was on his feet instantly, his gray eyes flashing with alarm as he grabbed my shoulders. "Hazel! What's wrong?"

"Look," I whispered, my voice completely shaking as I thrust the glowing screen toward his face. "Look at what my brother-in-law is doing before his own wedding."