Don't Mask, Don't Tell

Chapter 40

With the oven at the correct temperature, I prepare the last of the pre-packaged holiday cookies. I pull apart dough rounds, placing each one roughly two inches apart on a baking sheet.

Easy enough.

The small green trees decorated with little red ornaments stamped in the center makes me wish we were back at the beginning of December. With New Year's right around the corner, it feels like the past couple of months have flown by.

Probably because I've spent every single day with Axel.

You would think baking a pre-made, pre-cut sugar cookie would be fairly simple, but not for Eliza. She spent over an hour in the kitchen and watched several how-to videos online so she wouldn't ruin them, only to have the batch burn to a crisp.

More like scorched—adhered to the pan.

After an angry lecture-filled call from the property management company—thanks to the smoke alarm going off—I took over. I scrubbed the baking sheet for at least twenty minutes, then threw it out, calling it a lost cause. The charred smell lingered for hours. Liza is now banned from entering our kitchen.

For real this time.

I pop in a new batch and set the timer before hopping onto the counter. The cloudy haze that filled this space earlier has lifted, allowing a breath of fresh air to fill my lungs.

How the fuck did she not notice smoke spewing from the oven?

I roll my eyes as I lean over to rinse my hands in the overpriced kitchen sink. The custom fireclay basin, handcrafted in Italy, is too rich for my blood, but per usual, Liza had to have it.

Italy.

My mind wanders to Axel as I stare at the warm water splashing against my palms. Our first dinner together where he surprised me with fluent Italian replays in my head. I knew from that night there was so much more to him. He wasn't just a pretty face with a cocky attitude.

I was consumed by desire and lust, determined to learn more about the man that sat before me. The man that made me want to cave to primal desires I had buried.

I didn't expect our relationship to evolve so quickly, but the way our pasts intertwine makes me push aside any lingering doubts.

This has to be fate or some shit. Right?

My emotional walls aren't slowly breaking down, they've collapsed to the ground. He makes me vulnerable. I know this should terrify me, but it doesn't. Not anymore. There's nothing I can do to stop these feelings.

I'm utterly in love with Axel Carrington.

My fear of a broken heart slips away as the feeling of him being taken from me replaces it. I worry for what's to come. The idea of him and Mickey taking on a cartel makes my anxiety peak, especially with them being so damn confident.

But there's nothing I can do. I just have to sit back and wait fifty-two more days until this is all over. Then I can stop holding my breath. Only fifty-two days until we are free of uncertainty. Fifty-two days until he's finally safe.

Just fifty-two fucking days.

The stove timer disrupts a potential downward spiral and I hop down to check the cookies. I peer inside, seeing the dark golden coloring around the edges.

Spotting several oven mitts in a bottom drawer with tags still on them, I grab one and slide my hand in.

When did we buy these?