Chapter Five

A few minutes earlier, Atlas Steele stepped into the luxurious private hospital, a bouquet of white lilies in his hand. He hated the smell of flowers almost as much as he hated hospitals. 

But he had no choice. Tony Langford had insisted.

“Bring something nice,” the old lawyer had said. “First impressions matter.”

“Yeah, well, she better impress me too,” he had replied. 

Atlas tugged on the collar of his shirt and approached the front desk. A young nurse looked up, still holding a telephone. But as soon as she saw him, she lowered it, her cheeks immediately flushing pink.

“Good afternoon,” she said breathlessly. “How can I help you today?”

“I’m here to see Miss Harrington,” he replied, voice deep and clipped. “I believe she was involved in an accident and brought in today.” 

“Oh, right.” The nurse paused, staring at the computer. “Are you guys…married?” 

He raised a brow, but replied, “Not yet.” 

She looked like he wanted to ask another question, and he looked like he would rather not answer, so she quickly pointed him toward the private wing. Atlas nodded and walked away, ignoring the way her eyes followed him. He was used to it by now.

It had only been a year since he inherited the full Steele family fortune. The glamour, the power, the constant attention. Growing up as the rebellious son of his parents, he had never expected to be thrust into this world so suddenly.

But they were both dead now, killed in an accident a year ago. Leaving him everything they had: a chain of companies, tens of properties and an influential name. 

As he walked down the quiet corridor, his mind drifted to the ridiculous situation he was in. His grandmother had cornered him weeks ago, demanding he honor the long-standing marriage alliance with the Harrington family.

“You will marry the Harrington girl,” she had snapped. “It’s been arranged for generations.”

He had fought her at first. But eventually, he decided it wouldn’t hurt to at least meet the woman. If he didn’t like her, he would simply walk away. After all, no one could force Atlas Steele to do anything he didn’t want.

He stopped outside the door and took a deep breath before pushing it open.

Inside the elegant room, Tony Langford sat on a chair beside the bed. On the bed, lay a young woman with long, flowing dark hair and striking dark green eyes. Even in a hospital gown, she carried herself with quiet strength. She looked like she had been through hell and at the same time, like she was hell herself. 

He turned to the lawyer, who had just introduced him. 

“Is this her?” he asked. 

Langford stood up. “Yes. Mr, Steele, meet Miss Elara Harrington.”

Atlas grunted quietly and dropped the bouquet on the table beside her bed.

Elara looked at the flowers, then up at him. “Who are you?”

Langford cleared his throat. “Atlas is the owner of this hospital. He is also the man you are expected to form a marriage alliance with.”

Elara’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Marriage alliance?”

Langford explained calmly, “The Steele and Harrington families have maintained a powerful alliance for generations. Traditionally, it has always been sealed through marriage. This union would strengthen both families and prevent any future conflicts.”

Atlas crossed his arms. “I’m as confused as you are about all this,” he admitted, his eyes never leaving her face.

Elara scowled at him.

He thought she looked prettier when she frowned. She definitely was an interesting one. 

“You don't look confused,” she countered. 

“I don't wear emotions on my face,” he replied in a bored voice. 

He stepped forward and casually picked up the medical clipboard by her bed, scanning the notes.

“You’ve had it rough,” he said. “Metal poisoning. Previously diagnosed with cancer. Sounds like your husband was quite creative.”

Elara’s eyes flashed with anger. “That’s none of your business.”

Atlas raised an eyebrow. “It is if I’m supposed to marry you. I need to know if my future wife can still reproduce… or if the problem was with your fake husband.”

“Fuck off,” Elara said calmly, staring straight into his eyes.

He chuckled and turned to Langford. “I think I like her.”

The lawyer smiled faintly, but said nothing.

Atlas looked back at Elara, his expression becoming more serious. 

“So tell me… what do you want?”

“What do you mean?” 

“That look in your eyes. I've seen it many times before. Mostly in the mirror. It's a hungry look.” 

She looked away, and he stepped closer. 

“So, what is it that you want?” he repeated. 

Elara was silent for a long moment, staring at the wall. When she finally spoke, her voice was cold and steady.

“Revenge.”

“Of course.” He nodded slowly, exchanging a glance with Langford. “I can help with that.”

“I can do it myself,” she snapped. 

He raised a brow again. “Have you done this before?” 

“No. Doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing.” 

He glanced at Langford. “Let’s get her out of here. I hate hospitals.”