His Apathy, Her Freedom's Dawn
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uthless tycoon Axel Flynn was a love st
I saw the truth. He would panic if she got a paper cut
my life' s work. At my own birthday par
to a dark isolation room in the basement for three days, wit
d demanded I get on my knees to apolog
s never love. It was apathy. He sim
ft me for dead, I took the divorce papers he'd care
pte
son
to be an awful marriag
the suffocating silence of expectation. My father sat across from me, his face etched with the familiar lines of d
le, "this isn't just about you. This is
ut of his pristine skyscrapers, his empire. My extreme sports vlogging channel
to scream. "Not a gilded cage."
xel Flynn. You'll
n sharper ambition. Heir to the rival Flynn real estate dynasty.
onds and forced smiles. I was trapped, a show pony in a shimme
l F
uld cut glass. A dark suit, perfectly tailored, stretched across broad shoulders. He
ome. The kind of handsome that made your stomach clench, n
. It wasn't a warm look, or even a curious one. It was possessiv
ir. "A pleasure to finally meet the infamous thrill-seeker." His lips curved into a smirk
y life was a kaleidoscope of risk
" I shot back, my voice steadier than I felt. "Ar
ave their merits. Especially when they involve acquiring something rare." His gaze raked
angerous. My usual resistance, the urge to flee, was warring with a perverse curio
sting for you, Mr. Flynn?" I challenged, my vo
ething raw, primal-enveloping me. "Perhaps. What
d electric. It was a dare. And I, Emers
escaping before I could censor them. The ballr
smile spreading across his fa
aline already surging. This was it. This
"Bold. I like it." He extended
it was a battle of wills. A silent understanding passed between us,
chaotic symphony of speed and cunning, every turn a gamble. My heart pounded, the thrill
lane. My tires screeched, the car fishtailing
void me. He slammed into the truck, a deafening crunch of metal, forcing it awa
safe. He ha
wheel. He lay slumped against the crumpled airbag
ning to his side. "
ark and intense even in the dim light. He reached out,
a faint smile on his lips.
o," he urged, his voice weaker now. "Go
ruthless magnate, this man I was forced to marry
e had ever put my safety above their own ambi
tear from my cheek. "Don't cry, Emerson. You're too strong for that
. This was love. It had to be. My heart swelled, a feeling I' d never known. My l
ith emotion. "No, Axel." I choked b
confusion in hi
said, the words a raw, hon
awning triumph. A flicker of something I cou
York society. The Boones and the Flynns, rival dynasties, united. My father beamed, his corporate merger-marriage a
y my insatiable hunger for extreme sports and Axel's seemingly endless
to heli-ski in
t a moment's hesitation, hi
ing base jump
s the good angles," he'd reply, h
like the ultimate freedom. He truly loved me, I believed
e?" a friend once gushed, eyes wide with
ain, I felt my love for Axel deepen. He was my rock, my silent s
d. A strange hollowness, a nagging sense that something was missing.
she ar
his jaw tightened, even I, in my blissful bubble, could sense the weight of history. She was pe
ercar for a segment on ThrillSeeker Media. Axel was engrossed in a call, his bac
ving the engine playfully. "Wa
d. "Later, Em. Big deal closing." He blew me a kiss, a gesture t
tment pricking at me. He used to love racing with m
call, my helmet off, when I saw her. Alicia. She wal
she asked, her voice soft
asked, a fl
s says you're so... adventurous." She paused. "You know, I
e. An unsp
ered, a grin spreading across
. "Really? You'
scoffed playfully. "It
sly towards the distant figure
, pulling out the keys.
ervously in her lap. I started the engine, the powerful
ked, putting
e'll kill me." Her eyes darted towards Axel, who was still on his p
tling over me. What was she tal
n her, a furious shout
hell do you thin
sk of pure rage. The phone was gone, tossed aside. His d
Alicia began, he
d. "Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? How many times have I to
houlders shaking. He pulled her out of the car, his touc
, his voice thick with concern, his eyes scanning
Not once. His entire focus was on her, o
to me, and the tenderness vanis
ow and menacing. "What were you thinking? E
her for a joyride. It wa
es, ski down avalanches, flirt with death on a weekly basis, and never ba
"trust," his "love"... it wasn't love at all. It was apathy. He simpl
ime, I had mistaken his indifference for unconditional love. His "love" was
lee. To run away from this man, this gi
"Emerson? What's wrong? Are you angry I yelled at you?
He saw my quiet as a childish tantrum. He still saw me through the
ldn't breathe. The air felt thick, suffocating. My gran
. He called my name, his voice laced with confusion. But I kept walking, each step heavier than the l