Stealing the Heart of Mr. Steele

hapter 29 Chapter 29

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"Cordelia, please sit down," Atlas makes enough room for me to sit next to him. I stand in the doorway, stubbornly refusing to budge, preferring to shiver in the cold than to spend any more time with him.

"Look, I promise I won't do anything but talk to you," he holds up his hands in surrender. "If I do, you can just punch me."

I glower at his cavalier attitude over his previous attack and my threat. Does he really think I'll be okay with him in the back seat of the car after he had treated me so roughly?

"Please Cordelia," he pleads. He is usually so arrogant but right now he seems so vulnerable. "I just want to make sure you get home safely."

I think of fighting back, of waiting out in the cold just for spite, but that would be useless, silly, and only hurt me. Hesitantly I agree to his offer for a ride home. His whole body relaxes as the door shuts behind

1. me.

Atlas doesn't look like his us'

self. It isn't just that he is still dressed in his beach clothes, but he looks tired and in pain with his head in his hands and his eyes circled with dark purple bruises.

How long did he and his lawyer fight for my release? Why does he care if I sit in jail, especially considering that my family is the one who took advantage of him? If what Mr. Michaels said is true, then my family has been slowly stealing his wealth for years, using me as their ticket into the Steele family fortune.

No wonder they were so eager to marry me off to him when Angelica disappeared. I knew my family business was struggling, but I never knew how bad it was or how deeply corrupt it had become. Breaking the silence I ask, "Why did you do it?"

He takes a deep breath. "You're right," he agrees, speaking to an argument we aren't even having. "I should have never kissed you without your consent. I don't know what came over me. I was not myself." "Not...yourself..." I feel myself growing angry at his flimsy reasoning. "I often don't feel like myself but I don't go attacking people with kisses!"

"Don't you though," he raises the corner of his mouth sardonically, staring ahead as he remembers something both painful and amusing. "I feel that you are maybe a bit too free with your affections."

"If you think so poorly of me," I turn away from him, staring out my car window as I ask, "Why did you help me get out of jail?"

"I didn't," he answers rapidly, "Mr. Michaels did."

"Are you the one who paid for his services," I confront him, knowing he is dodging the answer by not telling the whole truth. "Yes," he admits, lick

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"I don't need your help, Atras, grumble. Take back your money, mu a way to pay for him I'll..."

"No." Atlas' tone is resolute. "I refuse." The car is silent for a moment before he adds, "You need someone Chapter 29

to look after you, Cordelia, even if you won't admit it."

"I don't need that person to be you, Atlas Steele," I cross my arms and lean back into the seat, closing my

eyes.

We are both silent as the car makes its way to the apartment/studio space I share with Tilly. The lights are on meaning that Tilly was likely waiting up for me. Did Atlas call her to let her know that I was coming home tonight?

The driver helps me out and stands outside waiting with me as I enter my home. Atlas watches from the car, his eyes following me until I disappear behind the door. My heart beats as rapidly as a hummingbird's wings as I lean against the inside of the door thinking of Atlas's face just before he drove away.

He looked so lost.

Absently placing my hands on my lips, I pull out the card I received from the lawyer and dial his number. He doesn't answer, so I leave a message.

"Mr. Michaels, this is Cordelia Greyson. I would like your advice on how to proceed. I want to help the police in the investigation. I think my family is trying to frame me."