On Her Daddy's Bed (Adeline and Luciano) novel Chapter 2

The ride from the airport to Axel’s house was long, the city lights blurring past as Hazel sat in silence, her mind lost in a mix of emotions. When they finally pulled into the compound of his home, her breath caught in her throat.

She stepped out of the Land Cruiser Prado as a guard opened the door for her, and the moment her feet touched the ground, her eyes lifted to the magnificent structure before her.

Her lips parted slightly in awe. The building loomed before her like a modern skyscraper, its sleek glass walls shimmering under the Washington skyline. Even though she was from a wealthy family, she couldn’t help but admire the architectural masterpiece before her.

A deep breath filled her lungs as she took in the grand security setup surrounding the property. The sheer number of guards stationed around made her stomach twist with unease.

“The house won’t fuck you, momma. Don’t rip its glass.”

Axel’s voice cut through her thoughts, his teasing tone sending a wave of irritation through her.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes before choosing to ignore his choice of words.

“Your house is beautiful,” she admitted, deciding to focus on the impressive view.

“Is that a compliment?” he mused.

“Tag it whatever, Axel. I’m hungry.” She pressed a hand against her stomach, making her point clear.

A smirk curled at his lips. “You didn’t turn into a foodie overnight, did you? ’Cause I won’t be able to handle one.”

“You can send me out if you want,” she shot back coldly, her frustration bubbling over. “I don’t even want to stay here.”

Axel chuckled, unfazed by her attitude. “You know your dad would rather I be the one holding onto your waist every fucking time than some other man doing it.” He winked at her, and she huffed in exasperation.

She hated how he always had a response ready, as if nothing could shake him.

“Let’s go,” he urged, and they both walked toward the entrance.

Axel had been Mr. Marco’s best friend since losing his older brother in college. Even though Marco was significantly older, he had taken Axel in as a brother, honoring the bond he once shared with Alex—Axel’s late brother—before his untimely death from an unknown illness.

“The elevator would be much better, momma. The stairs will hurt your legs,” Axel remarked, pressing the button for the floor where her room was located.

“Why build it so tall when you’re the only one living here?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“And some guards,” he corrected, his smug expression making her snap her mouth shut.

She rolled her eyes, refusing to object further.

As they stepped into the elevator, Hazel’s body tensed. A shiver ran through her, her fingers curling tightly around the fabric of her dress.

The familiar fear clawed at her chest.

She had always hated elevators—hated confined spaces. The walls felt like they were closing in, and her breathing turned shallow. Her hands grew clammy, her vision slightly hazy as the anxiety took hold. She should have just objected but no. She was rather too stubborn.

Axel noticed the shift immediately. His eyes darkened as realization dawned on him.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. He had completely forgotten that she was claustrophobic.

Without hesitation, he reached for her, pulling her against him in a firm yet comforting hold.

She stiffened, trying to push him away, but his arms tightened around her.

“Stay here, momma,” he murmured, his voice softer now.

A sharp jolt ran through her stomach at the warmth of his touch, her body betraying her as a wave of unexpected comfort settled over her.

Her cheek pressed against his solid chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat oddly soothing. His hand slid lower, resting at the curve of her waist, his fingers pressing slightly as if reassuring her that he was there.

Hazel hesitantly lifted her gaze, her breath catching as she found his dark eyes staring down at her. His face was unreadable, but the tension in his jaw and the flicker of something unspoken in his eyes made her pulse stammer.

She tried to pull away again, but his grip remained firm.

“I’m here, momma,” he whispered against her hair, his deep voice sending an unfamiliar heat rushing through her veins.

She swallowed hard.

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