Chapter 4

His eyes were glued to me.

I gripped the fork even harder, forcing my eyes to stay on the plate before me, littered with a dish I hadn’t eaten before.

The conversation flowed easily between my mother and Charles, often at times, Sebastian and Theo would say a word. Not him though.

I glanced up and like I thought, his eyes were glued to me. He leaned back against the chair, jaw clenched in a way that made me think of Henry Cavill. I cocked up my eyebrow, wanting him to look away. At least have some shame.

As if he could tell, he smirked faintly. That son of a… He smirked, twirling the fork between his fingers.

“Right, darling?” Vivienne’s voice jolted me out of the silent battle I was having. I blinked, caught off guard.

“Sorry, I’m still jet-lagged,” I said, turning my attention to her.

“Wasn’t the flight two hours long?” I heard an annoyingly grating deep voice say, and I snapped my head in his direction. Of course, it was him, pushing my buttons.

“Jet-lagged,” I gritted out.

He smirked. Again!

I stabbed at the unfamiliar pile of food on my plate harder than necessary.

“Amber,” my mother said sharply, her polite smile never wavering as she looked between Charles and me. “Mind your manners.”

Mind my manners?

I forced a tight smile and set my fork down before I accidentally committed a felony with it.

The conversation once again picked up, stocks, investments, charities, and galas to attend. These were things you would never hear in my circle. Heck! We talk about Ivy’s obsession with that one bulky guy from Jujutsu Kaisen, Harper’s unwavering commitment to learning the new developments in tech/business spaces, and my absolute need for a vacation and hate for my boss.

This was new, something I knew I could never adapt to. I glanced at my mom and was again taken aback at how easy it is for her to morph into this Morticia Addams personality, giggling softly, discussing stocks rising and charities to attend.

I shook my head and focused on stuffing my throat with the food. I couldn’t. Every time I tried to focus on my food, the weight of his gaze crawled over my skin like heat.

I glanced up again.

There he was, still staring.

God.

Did this man have hobbies? Couldn’t he chip in something into the conversation? Did he have a personality that didn’t involve irritating me?

“Excuse me,” I muttered suddenly, pushing my chair back before anyone could question it.

My mother’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Amber—”

“I just need to use the restroom,” I said.

My mother looked pissed for a second, her jaw clenched for a second, but Charles placed a gentle hand over hers.

“Of course,” he said kindly. “Take your time, Amber.”

I nodded stiffly and stood, smoothing down my dress before walking out of the dining room. The second I stepped into the hallway, I exhaled.

Jesus.

How long was I supposed to be here, pretending like I gave a damn what happened?

I walked down the hall, pretending I actually knew where I was going.

The truth was, I had no idea. Eventually, I got into the bathroom and washed my hands, taking a break from the fake smile I had to wear again.

I looked up at the mirror, staring at my reflection. I was an exact replica of my mother. I had the same golden skin that didn’t need much to glow, straight pointed nose, high cheekbones, and full lips. It was ironic that I looked exactly like her and yet didn’t get along with her.

“Pull it together, Amber,” I muttered under my breath. I refused to let an overgrown self-centered man like Atlas ruin my plan so soon.

I practiced my fake smile in the mirror again, and when I was sure I could pull it off, I stepped out of the restroom.

Except I didn’t go far. Standing right outside the restroom was the one man I wished I didn’t have to see.

His gaze settled on me quicker than I wanted, and again, there was that infuriating smirk of his.

“What? Are you stalking me now?” I snapped irritably.

Atlas huffed amusedly, “Now why would I need to stalk a person like yourself in my hotel?”

His hotel? My mind ran back to all the clues I’d seen since I stepped into the place. How did I not notice the similarities? Of course, the owner would have a private elevator to themselves.

Wait? What? A person like myself? Was I not worth stalking?

Relax, Amber. This man was clearly out to get on my nerves.

I wore a stiff, unimpressed smile. “So you came to the female restroom because?” I asked smugly.

Again, he smirked, and somehow, that made me even more pissed. He gestured behind me, and I turned. Right there by the door, it said unisex bathroom.

“What the hell?” I muttered under my breath. A unisex restroom? Who even does that?

“What do you have to say for yourself now, princess?”

I snapped my head at him. I didn’t know which pissed me off more. The smug look he wore, the infuriating smirk, or the way he called me princess.

“Don’t call me that.”

Atlas tilted his head slightly, studying me like I was some mildly entertaining problem he hadn’t decided whether to solve or ignore.

“Why?” he asked casually. “It suits you.”

Fuck, no.

“Are you always this annoying? How does anyone with a working brain put up with a self-centered, narcissistic man like yourself?” I snapped, unable to hold back.

Atlas stared at me, not a single emotion in his eyes, and for a brief second, I wondered if I actually hurt him.

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes. Then he stepped closer, and my breath hitched involuntarily.

Just enough that the air between us felt suddenly… thinner.

“Careful, princess,” he said quietly. “You’re in my house now.”

I swallowed hard, my palms suddenly sweaty. I chinned up, refusing to back down and let him corner me. “Your house? Pretty sure my mother is about to marry your father. Which means whether you like it or not—”

I leaned slightly closer. “We’re going to be family.”

His eyes darkened for a second, and something in my stomach twirled.

“That,” he said slowly, “would be unfortunate.”

Unable to stay longer without feeling like the air was being sucked out of my lungs, I pushed past him and walked back to the dining.

By the time I stepped back into the dining room, the conversation hadn’t slowed.

People like them could probably discuss stocks and charity galas for twelve hours straight without needing oxygen.

I slid back into my seat quietly. My mother glanced at me immediately, her eyes sharp.

“That took a while.”

I didn’t bother replying…

“We were just discussing the Hampton’s gala next weekend,” Charles said warmly. “You’ll enjoy it, Amber. It’s quite the event.”

My stomach nearly turned.

A gala? Fantastic. Exactly the kind of torture I signed up for.

“Sounds… exciting,” I said politely.

Sebastian chuckled softly from across the table.

Atlas returned a second later. I didn’t need to look to know it was him. The moment he entered the room, the air shifted, like someone had turned the temperature up a few degrees.

I kept my eyes firmly on my plate. The conversation continued, and I tuned out, counting the time till I could leave.

Dinner wrapped up not long after that, and the moment the plates were cleared, I nearly sighed in relief.

Vivienne dabbed her lips with a napkin before turning toward me. “I’m afraid I’ll be quite busy this week with wedding preparations,” she said smoothly. “Otherwise, I would’ve loved to show you around the Hamptons myself.”

Oh no.

No, no, no.

Please don’t volunteer me for rich-people tourism.

Before I could respond—

“I can do it.”

My head snapped up. Atlas leaned back in his chair, completely relaxed.

His eyes slid to me slowly. “I’ll show my new stepsister around.”

The word sounded like a challenge coming out of his mouth.

My mother looked pleased.

“That’s actually a wonderful idea. Amber, you’ll be with Atlas for the week then. I’m sure he’ll take good care of you.”

Wonderful? Take good care of me?

Why did I have such horrible luck?

Charles smiled. “That would be very kind of you, Atlas.”

Atlas’s gaze never left mine. “Happy to help.”

I forced a tight smile that probably looked more like a threat. “Great,” I said sweetly.

I prayed internally. ‘Please God don’t let me end up with a murder charge before this wedding even happens.’

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