“What do you need me to do?” I ask.
“Relax. I won’t need you until next weekend, Theadora.”
Scrunching my eyebrows, I shake my head. “So why did you come?”
Opening the car door, he looks me up and down. “Have a good day, Theadora.”
“Fuck you, Atlas,” I say with a smirk. And those words make his lips twitch.
He nods, then gets into his car and drives off.
I stand on the side of the road watching his car head off in the distance, wondering what on earth he wanted. For what reason did he come here?
Atlas is a mystery, and one I’m not sure I want to figure out.
Chapter Ten
Theadora
Flowers still come every day when I’m at work. All from ‘A.’
I don’t see him that weekend, and when the next weekend comes and goes, I am beginning to get angsty. He was a no show again, and I don’t understand how he went from so many times in one week to no contact at all in two weeks.
The following Friday rolls around three weeks after I last saw him, and when I get home that afternoon, he’s leaning against his car, looking at his diamond watch when I walk up to him.
“You’re late.”
“Didn’t know I was meeting you,” I answer.
He looks up at me from his watch, and his eyes scan me.
“How is my sister?”
“She’s fine. Mouthy as usual.”
I go to smile at his response, then quickly shake my head and remember we are not friends. This man had me kidnapped and is using me to his own advantage.
“Will I get to see her again soon?”
His eyes narrow. “I have work for you tonight. You’ll be my date.” Turning, Atlas reaches into the car and walks over to hand me a dress.
“I already have two good dresses. I don’t need another.”
“Take the dress, it’s cocktail.”
“Am I allowed to speak tonight?”
He holds out the dress, and I take it from his hands. Atlas shoves his hands in his pockets and looks at me. “When asked to.” He turns, walks to his car and looks back at me.
“I know. Be ready by six. Right?” I turn, not waiting for his answer as I walk up the stairs to my door. When I turn back around, he’s gone, and in my hand is another expensive dress.
After stepping inside, I take my time opening this one. I have a few hours to kill before he’ll be back to collect me, to take me to God only knows where.
Atlas is slowly removing my power, and I don’t like it.
Pulling out the designer Chanel dress, I almost weep at the sight of it. It has an all-black skirt. The top is made in a flesh-colored mesh with black velvet flowers covering the right parts to give it the look of a top when, in reality, it’s basically skin with strategically placed decorations.
It’s beautiful.
And my absolute favorite so far.
Getting dressed is easy, and it fits like it was made for my body. My nipples are covered by the black velvet flowers, and a few are scattered over my belly, with a few on the back too. But mostly, I am bare from the waist up. A dress like this deserves a great hairstyle, so I have put my hair up with loose curls and a black flower to the side. I paired the ensemble with black heels.
Once I am completely dressed, I pour myself a wine, because if previous events are anything to go by, I will not be drinking. And I really need a damn drink. Wine in hand, a knock comes on the door, so I drink it fast until it’s empty, before I open it, knowing it is going to be Atlas.
As soon as I see him dressed again in a black suit, I have to remember to not stare. Atlas’s eyes flick to my wine glass, then back to my face, assessing me.
“How many?”
“One,” I say, telling him the truth.
He nods, then walks to his car. I place my wine glass down on the nearby table and follow him out, making sure I have my purse and keys.
Atlas holds the car door open for me. I slide in, and he watches the way my body moves. I can feel his eyes glued to me. Fuck! I was glued to my body too when I looked in the mirror. This dress would make a six look like a ten, that’s the kind of magic it holds.
“Do you plan to give me instructions for tonight?” I ask when he gets in.
The car takes off, and I turn to look at him. His head is down, looking at his cell phone.
“The plans I had for you aren’t really working out. So change of plans,” he says, not looking up.
“What were the plans?” I ask.
Turning to look at me, he says, “You were to do a lot of things you more than likely wouldn’t be comfortable with.”
“You play me like a chess piece, and now you’re pulling me off the board and calling what? Checkmate? I’m confused.” I shake my head. “What was it you would have had me doing?” The car comes to a stop, and he turns to get out. “Tell me, Atlas. What would you have had me do?”
He turns to look at me, leans over and grabs hold of my face, gripping it hard between his fingers. “I would have used and abused you in ways you can only imagine.”
“How?” I manage to speak, though I am shocked by his words.
“You would have been a pawn. I would have made you suck the cock of my enemy to get what I wanted, just like that girl did to me. I would throw you to the wolves and wouldn’t care what they did to you, as long as you came out with valuable information, if that’s what was needed.” His breath is heavy on my face with his closeness. Atlas squeezes my face just a second longer before he drops his hands and pulls back. “Now stop questioning me before I decide to make you pay your sister’s debt back by getting on your knees for me.” He leaves the car as I sit there, more than a little shocked. My cheeks now hurting from his firm grip, and wondering if I should have thrown meat at the tiger like that and not have expected him to bite me back. Because if I am not careful, soon he may just feed me to the wolves.
My door opens, and the driver stands there with Atlas in front of him, his elbow extended, waiting for me. Blowing out a breath, I slide out and take his waiting arm. He doesn’t even glance at me before he starts walking.
We enter a ballroom, and the minute we do, I know we are rubbing elbows with the elite. I spot a public figure straight away. He offers a small head nod to Atlas who gives one back in return.
“Mr. Hyde, so good to see you in attendance tonight.”
I almost let the shock of his last name show on my face. Almost.
Hyde? Really? Gosh, that suits him more than he will ever know.
Atlas glances at me as if he knows my reaction and pins me with a stare before he looks back at the man who’s talking to him. I pay no attention. Politics has never interested me, just like gambling never did.
“Yes, good…” is all he says in return.
I guess it’s not just me he doesn’t give much conversation to.
“And who is this fine lady?” His hand is offered, and I go to place mine in it, but Mr. Hyde, aka Atlas, pulls me back.
“This… is no one of interest to you.”
“Oh, no sharing?” he jokes, but I look at Atlas, and somehow, I don’t think it’s a joke.
Atlas starts walking and pulls me along with him to the next group of people. He says his hellos to about a million people—okay, slight exaggeration—until we finally greet two more people before we get to sit. When we do finally take a seat, my feet are thankful, as these heels are killing me.