“You don’t talk or seem to like most of these people. So why are you here?” I ask as we sit mostly in silence.
A waiter walks past, and I eye the glasses of champagne, but I know better than to drink while he’s around. When I get back home after this shitshow I will get drunk. I need it. And I’m not even much of a drinker normally.
“Did I ask for conversation?” he snaps.
A hand is placed on his shoulder, and he turns his hard eyes to the source of it. A woman, more than likely around my age, smiles down at him but quickly removes her hand.
“Mr. Hyde was hoping to have a word, sir.” She looks down at me, then back to him. “Privately.”
Atlas stands, straightens his suit jacket, and walks away. He doesn’t need to tell me not to move because I do not see that happening at all. My feet are aching, and we had been walking and standing in the same spot for about two hours. This has become very boring, and I don’t even know why I am here.
The chair next to me scrapes as I pick up a piece of finger food from the middle of the table. Turning, I see the man from earlier when we first walked in, take the seat. His hungry eyes eat up my dress, and all of a sudden, the dress I was in love with makes me feel naked and exposed in a way I didn’t think I would feel.
“Didn’t think he would leave you alone.” He smiles, placing a glass of champagne in front of me. I don’t touch it nor thank him for it. “Seems he has an interest in you. Atlas always shares his women. So, what I want to know…” he leans closer so his breath hits the side of my neck, “… what’s so special about you?”
I know this man. He’s a politician and married with kids. Yet, here he is asking me why Atlas can’t share me.
And that thought makes me sick.
“What’s your name?” he asks, to which I ignore him. It’s not him I came with, and it’s not him I am scared of. No. The man I came with, and am equally scared of, is also a man I am attracted to. And that little indiscretion is an issue within itself.
“It’s not wise to ignore someone when they speak to you.”
I scoff and turn around to see if Atlas is coming back. A hard hand lands on my leg, and I still. Turning around, I notice the dirty politician has a gleam in his eyes as he stares at me.
“You’re just a whore. Whores speak as they are told. So when I speak to you, you answer. Right, whore?”
I lean in close, my hand moving to his leg, then I sneak it up, catch hold of his dick, and squeeze. “Get your filthy fucking hands off me before I squash your cock so hard, I will break it. And don’t ever speak to a woman like that again, you pig.” I squeeze his cock even harder for good measure as his hand breaks free from my leg. The minute I free his cock, he stands, towering over me.
“Is there a problem here?” I never thought I would be soothed by that voice, but I am.
Dirty politician asshole looks to Atlas, then back at me. “Keep your whores in line.” He purses his lips in anger before he turns and walks away.
Letting go of a breath I didn’t know I was holding, I finally relax.
“Get up, we’re leaving.” I turn at that voice, that extremely angry voice, and with it, stormy eyes are directed at me.
Shit! Shit!
Standing, he doesn’t offer me his hand, and I watch as he wipes at his lips.
Is that red lipstick stained on them?
Fuck! What do I care?
As soon as we push out the door, we walk down the street to where I see his car waiting. The minute we reach it, he opens the door and instructs me to get in, which I do, and he follows. Atlas is quiet for the entire drive home.
Once we finally reach my house, which is outside of the city, I am more than thankful to get out and away from him, except he follows me to my door. I unlock it and turn to him, but before I can say a word, I’m being pushed inside, his hand going to my waist as he shoves me to the nearest wall, my back hitting it hard.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” His stormy amber eyes search mine.
Chapter Eleven
Atlas
I have been gentle when there has been no need for it. I have been patient, and I don’t even fucking know why. It’s not like she deserves it, and if she was any other woman, I would not be gentle nor patient. She would do as I ask with no questions.
But not her, not Theadora.
My hands grip her tiny waist as I hold her to the wall, her blue eyes, which shine so fucking bright, bore into me.
Have you ever looked at the sky and thought, what a fucking beautiful blue?
Well, that’s her eyes.
Not an ocean blue, like I first thought.
“Wh… what,” she stutters, her back against the wall, my hands unable to move from her hips.
“Who do you think you are?” I ask again, my hips moving forward close enough to touch her.
“I don’t understand.”
My head shakes. “That man you just threatened is a customer, and a good one. You were seen with me. So, he knows you are one of mine.” Her eyes go wide at my words. “Maybe I should make it up to him and give you to him as a gift.” Now my body touches hers, and despite her being shocked and angry, her cheeks flush.
Her hands lift and push against my chest, and I take a step back. “That shit wasn’t a part of our deal. I am not a whore.”
My free hand reaches up and strokes her face while she sucks in a deep breath.
“But you would be a perfect whore.”
Her eyes go wide at my words, and I see a little break there, the way the brightness that was shining seems lost now.
“How much longer am I expected to do this?”
I turn to look at her. “Until the debt is paid.”
“I’ll get a loan and pay back what’s left. How much?”
“You accepted the agreement. You will continue to work it off as I see fit. Until then, don’t question me.”
Her eyes thin and her lips scrunch. “You are a real asshole. You know that, right?”
She isn’t telling me anything new. I don’t plan on being her friend, but she’s pushing every damn available button I have. Never have I let a woman speak to me, or disrespect those I am in business with, the way she does.
“Nothing to say? That means you know it.” Her head drops as she tries to give me her best ‘fuck you’ face. “Give. Me. My. Sister. You are making me your bitch, the least you can do is give me Lucy back.”
I smirk, that’s not happening.
“So, that gets a reaction from you.” She clenches her hands. I think she is about to walk off and shut the door when she turns back around to face me. “Stop sending me dresses, it’s inappropriate.” Theadora turns her nose up at me as I take a step back.
“If I knew you wouldn’t come to an event dressed like a slob like every other time I have seen you out of this house, I would stop. But I have an appearance to keep up, and you don’t meet those standards without appropriate attire.”.
Her mouth drops open, she slams the door shut in my face, and I smile before I turn to leave.
“And how is the lady in pink going?” Benji asks. He sits down at my desk, kicks his feet up as if he owns the fucking place.