~LAYLA~
I actually stopped moving for a second, causing a couple nearby to manoeuvre around us with annoyed glances and whispered apologies.
"You know my birthday?" I asked, genuinely surprised. My feet stumbled slightly before finding the rhythm again.
Axel raised an eyebrow and gently placed his hand at the small of my back, helping me get back into the smooth, familiar rhythm of the waltz.
The strings and brass from the orchestra blended into sothing achingly beautiful. "You sound shocked. Give so credit here, Layla. I am your husband. I’m supposed to know these kinds of things."
I looked down at his tie, studying the perfect knot rather than eting his eyes. "I... I honestly forgot. With everything happening."
"Well, I didn’t," Axel said, spinning gently before pulling back against his chest. "So? What’s the plan? Dinner? A party? We could rent out the T."
I felt a sudden, heavy weight in my chest, like soone had placed a stone there.
Birthdays.
My memories of birthdays weren’t of cake and balloons and wrapped presents tied with ribbon.
They were of Charles making dress up like a doll to show off to his business partners. The "perfect daughter" in designer dresses that cost more than most people’s monthly rent, while I smiled until my face hurt, accepting complints that were really ant for him.
Or, after I ran away, sitting alone in a cheap apartnt with a cupcake I bought from a bodega at eleven PM, a single candle stuck in the frosting, wishing I was anyone else but .
"No," I said, shaking my head firmly. "No party, Axel. Please."
"Why?" His voice was gentle, probing but not pushing.
"Because there is a psychopath hunting us," I whispered, leaning closer so no one else could hear. The other dancers swirled around us like we were the eye of a hurricane. "Because the Duke is in hiding. I haven’t celebrated a birthday since I was... I can’t even rember. It’s just a day."
"It’s the day you were born," Axel countered softly, his thumb tracing small circles against my spine through the silk of my dress.
"It’s a liability," I said firmly, looking up at him finally. I needed him to understand. "Charles knows the date, too. If we plan sothing, he’ll use it. He’ll send a ’gift’ like that picture fra. I don’t want to give him another opportunity to ruin sothing."
Axel studied my face for a long mont, his eyes searching mine. He saw the genuine reluctance, the shadow of old trauma that lived in the corners of my mind like cobwebs I could never quite sweep away.
"Okay," he said, nodding slowly. "No party. No gala. No Charles."
"Promise?" I needed to hear him say it.
"I promise," Axel said without hesitation. "We’ll treat it like any other day. Just work and survival."
I sighed in relief, letting my forehead rest briefly against his shoulder as we turned. "Thank you. I really an it, Axel. I don’t want a fuss."
Axel kissed the top of my head, his lips warm against my hair. "Understood. No fuss."
"You’re sure?" I asked, pulling back slightly to read his expression. "Because you have this look..."
"What look?"
"That look that says you’re planning sothing anyway."
"I have no idea what you’re talking about," Axel said with perfect innocence. Too perfect. "I’m agreeing with you completely. No birthday celebration whatsoever."
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Axel..."
"Layla," he mimicked my tone exactly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Trust . I heard you loud and clear."
—
The next few days passed in a blur of normalcy, or at least, as normal as life could be when your adoptive father was a wanted criminal wjo wants revenge, and your grandfather was legally dead.
I went to the office, approved designs for the spring collection, reviewed quarterly reports with the finance team, sat through three conference calls that could have been emails, and pretended that everything was fine.
Axel shadowed everywhere like my own personal, devastatingly handso bodyguard, and the Duke continued his recovery, occasionally shuffling out to complain about the television or demand proper tea. It was almost peaceful.
Almost.
But there was always that underlying current of tension, waiting and wondering when Charles would make his next move.
—
I woke up to sunlight shining through the sheer curtains, filling the bedroom with a soft, golden glow. I could also feel warm lips gently resting on my shoulder.
I groaned softly, burying my face in the pillow and pulling the duvet higher. "Five more minutes."
"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty," Axel’s voice was a low rumble against my ear, sending pleasant shivers down my spine. He kissed the curve of my neck, then my cheek, then the corner of my jaw. "Happy Birthday, my love."
I opened one eye reluctantly.
Axel was leaning over , already dressed in casual clothes: a black t-shirt that stretched across his shoulders and grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips.
He looked relaxed, rested, and unfairly handsome for soone who’d probably been up dealing with security reports until two AM.
"You rembered," I mumbled, rolling onto my back and stretching like a cat.
"Hard to forget when Tye sent a reminder at midnight," Axel teased, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "Complete with three exclamation points and a cake emoji. But don’t worry. As promised, no party, no fuss."
I smiled, relieved. "Thank you. You’re the best."
"I try," he said, pulling the duvet off with one swift movent, exposing to the cool morning air. "Co on. Let’s go downstairs. I made breakfast."
"Breakfast?" I raised an eyebrow, sitting up and reaching for my silk robe draped over the nearby chair. "You? Cooking? What ti is it?"
"I think it should be past nine or so," Axel said, checking his watch. "Come on, let’s go down."
"Why not breakfast in bed?" I asked, tying the robe around my waist. "It is my birthday, after all."
Axel paused at the door, one hand on the fra, looking back at with a smirk that was pure trouble. "I considered it. But since you insisted you weren’t celebrating and that today is ’just like every other day,’ I figured I wouldn’t bother with the special treatnt. Consistency is key, right?"
I laughed, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him with more force than necessary. He caught it effortlessly with one hand, not even flinching.
"You’re terrible," I said, sliding out of bed and padding across the plush carpet toward him. "I should get breakfast in bed at least once in a while as your wife. Birthday or not."
"Maybe next year," Axel said, tossing the pillow back onto the bed with perfect aim. "If you behave."
"I always behave," I lied, slipping past him into the hallway.
"That is demonstrably false," Axel said, following close behind. "I have extensive evidence to the contrary."
"Oh really? You keeping a list?"
"A very detailed one. Cross-referenced and everything."
We walked out of the bedroom and down the hallway, our footsteps muffled by the runner carpet.
"I was thinking we could go over the Q4 projections later," I said as we approached the kitchen, already ntally shifting into work mode. "And maybe check in with Tye about the security updates on the warehouse. He ntioned sothing about the new cara system..."
"Sounds amazing," Axel said dryly, his hand finding the small of my back again. "But first, coffee."
"First, coffee," I agreed. Coffee fixed everything. Well, most things.
We turned the corner into the open-plan living and dining area, and...
"SURPRISE!"
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