Axton's world was collapsing, and the only thing holding him together was the thought of her.
He rubbed a hand across his face, the skin beneath his eyes tight from lack of sleep. His phone buzzed on the desk beside him — a message from Jason reminding him of another meeting.
He didn't even read it.
It had been nearly two weeks since he last set foot in Bluebell Bakes, and the ache of that absence had settled deep in his chest.
"Cancel the rest of the day," he said aloud, voice low but resolute.
He poked his head in, startled. "Sir, the board—"
Jason hesitated, then nodded quickly and left. The door clicked shut, leaving silence behind.
Axton exhaled, leaning back in his chair.
The leather creaked softly beneath his weight. For the first time in days, the exhaustion in his body began to take a toll on him.
He should just take the day off, to rest and rejuvenate.
But his mind went somewhere else.
To her.
Elin.
He hadn't seen her in a week.
He'd meant to check in, to stop by even for five minutes, but one emergency turned into another. Every time he thought about her, he promised himself tomorrow. Tomorrow he'd make time. Tomorrow he'd go see her. Tomorrow he'd tell her that even when his world felt like it was collapsing, the thought of her made him breathe easier.
But tomorrow never came.
The guilt pressed in, quiet but heavy.
Axton stood abruptly, the chair scraping harshly against the floor. A wave of dizziness slammed into him, and the room tilted. He caught himself on the edge of the table before he could stumble, breath hissing through his teeth. His legs trembled from exhaustion—he hadn't slept in nearly a week—but he forced himself upright anyway.
"I'm done," he muttered, voice rough and low. "No more waiting."
He shrugged on his blazer, grabbed his keys, and walked out.
Jason looked up from his desk, startled, but Axton didn't pause.
"I'll handle things remotely," he said curtly. "Don't follow."
He called his driver as he reached the lobby. "Take the night off. I'm driving."
"Sir, are you sure? You haven't—"
"I'm sure." He hung up before the man could protest.
***
Axton loosened his tie as his car slowed to a stop at the corner of Everton Park. The sky was painted in evening gold, the light softening against the pastel storefronts. And there, glowing in gentle blue, stood Bluebell Bakes.
He felt the tension in his body ease.
Through the window, he saw her. Elin stood behind the counter, hair tied up loosely, a streak of flour dusting her cheek. She was smiling. That soft, unguarded kind of smile that made the entire world seem to pause for a second. A customer said something that made her laugh, and the sound was so genuine it stirred something inside him.
He took a step forward. Then he saw him.
A tall man stood at the counter, lean build, expensive suit, posture too confident for a casual visit.
Axton's pulse slowed. His gaze sharpened. He knew that man.
Sebastian Kairen.
CEO of Kairen Global Holdings.
Rival. Manipulator. The kind of man who smiled as he slipped the knife in.
The name alone left a bitter taste in his mouth. Axton's fingers twitched at his side, a familiar tension coiling through him. What the hell was Sebastian doing here, in her bakery of all places?
Sebastian leaned across the counter as Elin handed him a pastel box of pastries. Whatever he said drew a laugh from her, light and easy. The sound hit Axton like a punch to the gut. Then Sebastian's hand brushed hers, fleeting but he saw it.
The sight hit Axton harder than he expected. A flash of heat seared through his chest, quick and bitter. He could almost feel the burn in his veins, jealousy threading itself between his ribs. His jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together. It was irrational, he knew that. But watching Sebastian look at her like that, hearing her laugh like that—it felt personal.
Elin didn't see him. She was still smiling, still too kind, handing over the receipt with her usual warmth. Sebastian's expression softened in response, that sly, approving smile he used when he thought he'd won something.
Axton's stomach turned. He'd seen that smile across boardrooms, at charity galas, in every meeting where Sebastian played the part of the gentleman while cutting deals that left others bleeding.
And now he was standing here, pretending to be a customer, playing the same game.
Only this time, the stakes were Elin.
Without realizing it, his stride lengthened. His footsteps hit the pavement harder than he intended, each one fuelled by a restless energy that had been simmering for days.
He barely even noticed the cars that slowed as he crossed the street.
Axton pushed the door open. The small bell above it chimed delicately, but the sound cut through the cozy chatter like a blade.
Conversation paused. Heads turned.
Axton stood framed in the doorway, his tall frame and sharp silhouette at odds with the gentle, welcoming interior. The pastel blue walls and delicate Peranakan tiles softened the space, but against that warmth, he looked like a storm breaking into a summer night.
His shirt slightly rumpled, and faint shadows marked the hollows beneath his eyes. He looked exhausted but angry.
Then his gaze found her.
Elin froze behind the counter, her hand still resting on the register. For a moment, her mind emptied. The noise of the café faded away until there was only him—Axton, standing there as if he'd walked straight out of her thoughts.
"Axton?" she breathed, the word barely more than a whisper.
He didn't answer immediately. His eyes moved over her face, down to her flour-dusted apron, then to the pastry box she'd just handed to Sebastian. Something in his jaw tightened before he crossed the room in long, deliberate strides.
He stopped right in front of the counter, close enough that she could feel the faint stir of air between them. "You should have told me you were working late," he said quietly. His voice was rough, low—carrying the kind of strain that came from too many sleepless nights and something possessive that slipped through despite his effort to sound calm.
Elin blinked, taken aback by the sudden intensity in his tone. "I... I wasn't working late. I was just—"
"It's fine," he cut in, softer this time, though his gaze didn't move from hers. The edge in his voice eased, replaced by something weary. He reached out, fingers brushing her sleeve where a faint smudge of flour lingered. The touch was careful, almost hesitant, but the warmth of his skin against hers sent a quiet tremor through her chest. His fingers lingered a heartbeat too long before he pulled away.
"Axton," she said, a frown tugging at her lips. "You can't just show up like this. You didn't even reply to my messages."
He looked down for a moment, his brows drawing together. "I was busy," he said. The words came out flat, but there was a roughness underneath, something like guilt. "You know that."
Elin frowned. A part of her wanted to argue, to tell him that no one was that busy, that even a single reply wouldn't take more than a moment. But looking at him now—his pale face, the exhaustion clouding his eyes—her irritation softened. Whatever he'd been doing, it had taken more out of him than he'd admit.
"Have you eaten?" she asked after a pause, her voice gentler.
His brows lifted slightly, as if the question surprised him. "No," he said after a beat. "Not since yesterday."
Elin sighed, her concern outweighing her anger. "You look like you're about to collapse." She moved from behind the counter, wiping her hands on her apron. "Sit down. I'll get you something warm."
He didn't protest. Maybe he was too tired to, or maybe it was because it was her asking. Axton watched her walk toward the kitchen, the scent of vanilla and fresh bread trailing behind her. The tension in his chest eased slightly, though his eyes still lingered on the counter where Sebastian had stood minutes earlier.
Sebastian turned slowly, his posture still effortless, but the smirk on his lips didn't reach his eyes. It was the same look he always gave when he thought he was in control, when he believed the room and everyone in it belonged to him. His gaze landed on Axton, sharp and unblinking.
"Axton," he said, his voice smooth, polished. "What a surprise. Didn't expect to see you here."
Axton didn't flinch, didn't let his attention waver from Elin.
"You're far from your usual crowd, Sebastian," Axton said, his voice low and even, carrying a quiet authority that made Sebastian pause just slightly. "Since when do you take an interest in local bakeries?"
Sebastian chuckled softly, the sound smooth and practiced, like he was amused at Axton's seriousness. He stepped closer, his expensive shoes silent against the floor. Confidence oozed from him with every motion, deliberate and measured. "Since I discovered they serve good coffee," he said, letting the pause linger before adding, "And even better company."
The weight of those words pressed down in the room. It was subtle, almost polite to anyone else, but Axton felt it like a blade against his ribs.
Axton's jaw flexed almost imperceptibly, his muscles tensing as a hot, possessive edge entered his tone. "She's not company for you," he said, his voice quiet but sharp enough to slice through the polite buzz of the bakery.
Sebastian paused, eyes narrowing just slightly, though the smirk never left his lips. "Oh? I hadn't realized she belonged to anyone," he replied lightly, his voice smooth but carrying an undercurrent of challenge.
Axton's jaw tightened. He took a step closer, lowering his voice to a growl. "She's my girlfriend."
The words landed like a shot, steady and unyielding. Sebastian tilted his head slightly, that same infuriating smirk spreading wider, as though he had all the time in the world to toy with him. "Mm," he said lazily, "where were you when she sprained her ankle?"
Axton's frown deepened, confusion and rising concern cutting through his protective fury. "Elin sprained her ankle?" His eyes snapped to her, scanning for any sign of injury, any clue that Sebastian's taunt had a kernel of truth.
Sebastian only smirked in response, letting the moment hang, enjoying the ripple of tension spreading through Axton.
Elin returned at that moment, carrying a tray of freshly baked kaya croissants. At first, the sight of her calm, gentle smile seemed to soothe the tension coiling in Axton's chest, but then he noticed the slight wobble in her step, the faint hitch in her weight as she moved across the floor.
His heart lurched, a sudden, anxious surge. "Elin?" His voice softened, concern threading through it. "Your ankle... are you okay?"
Without waiting, he crouched down in front of her, eyes sweeping over her foot, searching for bruises, swelling, anything that would explain her uneven gait. The croissants trembled slightly in her hands, the tray held close to her body, as though she hadn't even realized how much her body was betraying her.
Elin's lips pressed into a small, sheepish smile. "It's... fine," she said, though the way she shifted her weight suggested otherwise. She glanced at Sebastian, whose expression was smugly triumphant, and then back at Axton, as if silently asking for understanding.
Axton's hands hovered just above her ankle, hesitant to touch but ready to steady her if she faltered. Anger and frustration mingled with relief, a bitter cocktail that made his chest tighten. He wanted to throttle Sebastian for saying anything, for planting the seed of worry that had now come to life in front of him.
"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice was low, strained with exhaustion and something darker, possessive and fierce.
Elin shook her head, a light laugh escaping her despite the twinge of discomfort. "I didn't think it was a big deal. Really. I didn't want to bother you."
Axton's chest tightened further, a mix of guilt for not knowing and a surge of protectiveness that made him want to sweep her into his arms and make sure she didn't hurt ever again. He looked up at Sebastian, who remained leaning casually against the counter, smirk fixed, and his fists clenched at his sides.
"You," Axton said, his voice measured but sharp, "don't get to play games with her. She's not yours to toy with."
Elin quickly stepped between them, cheeks flushed. "Axton, please. He's just a customer."
Sebastian's eyes gleamed with amusement, sensing the reaction he'd provoked. "Relax. I'm just here for pastries, not trouble." He reached for the box on the counter, brushing Elin's fingers again as he took it. "Thank you, Miss Elin. I'll be seeing you."
His gaze lingered a second too long before he turned and walked out.
Axton exhaled slowly, shoulders still tight. His eyes stayed fixed on the door even after it closed, as if willing the man to disappear from existence.
When he finally turned back to Elin, she was already watching him — confusion and something like worry in her eyes.
"You didn't have to do that," she said softly.
"I know." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking suddenly human, even sheepish. "I just... saw him here and—"
"Assumed I couldn't handle myself?" she teased gently, though her voice trembled slightly.
His lips twitched. "Something like that."
"You can't scare off every man who walks into my bakery, you know."
"I can," he said quietly, his gaze softening, "because you're my girlfriend...."
Her cheeks flushed deep red, the colour spreading quickly across her face until it matched the warmth of ripe tomatoes. She pressed a hand to her mouth, half to hide the smile threatening to break through, half to steady herself as a flutter of nerves and embarrassment danced through her chest. Her eyes darted away, down to the tray in her hands, then back up, only to catch Axton's gaze.
Axton's green eyes darkened slightly as he looked at her, the usual calm authority in his gaze now edged with something sharper.
"Elin," he said, his voice low, steady, but carrying an unmistakable edge. "I need you to stay away from Sebastian."
She blinked, taken aback. "I... I wasn't planning to—he's just a customer."
His jaw tightened slightly, his green eyes locking onto hers. "I know what he is. I've dealt with men like him for years. He's not here for pastries. He's here to interfere, to manipulate. I won't let him get close to you."
"Axton, I—"
"You don't have to explain," he interrupted gently, his thumb brushing against her arm. "Just... trust me on this. I don't want him sending you messages or trying to charm you or pull you into anything that isn't yours to deal with."
"I... okay," she murmured softly. "I'll stay away from him."
Axton gave a short nod, though the tension in his shoulders eased only slightly. "Good. I know you're strong, Elin, but some people aren't worth your time or attention. Sebastian is one of them."