Atlas Shrugged Part 3 Novels & Stories

Thaila said one again while Atlas was shocked much like myself. "Shine your eyes at me," Atlas said as he made me focus on him, his thumb on my cheeks while the rest of his fingers gently touched my neck. I closed my eyes and when I opened them I saw the yellow glow reflected in his eyes...

It was actually the other stranger who’d cleared his throat after a long minute, prompting Gage to release me. I stepped back, giving the other shifter a once over and noticing that he was quite a bit older than anyone else present, but my eyes kept making their way back to Gage of their own accord as his friend spoke. “I’m Atlas. I see you already know Gage, but this isn’t the best place to catch up. If you guys want to shift and follow me, I can lead you back to where we’re staying so we can all clean up and rest.” Gage’s hazel orbs seemed to scorch me with the intensity he aimed my way, but the variance in the other male’s voice had caught my attention.

He hated her to the extent he wants her gone– dead! All of a sudden, Atlas laughed out loud and said, ‘This move is so stupid but managed to win. Congratulations, Sebastian, but I doubt you’d be able to get the mastermind to love you back.” With a smile on his lips, he glanced at Celina, snorted and left the sitting room. The people didn’t understand what Atlas meant by his words, but even though they did, no one cared. All that mattered to them was their successful collaboration with the Clintons.

I let it sit there, warm and unfamiliar, melting something inside me. I did not regret it one bit. I would do anything to protect Sage's niece. And to protect Sage herself. That thought surfaced without permission, and I did not push it away either. Sage looked at the three of us. Her expression was not easy to read, but she avoided our gaze. She turned toward Tom's unconscious body on the floor. "Thank you," she said. "Now carry Tom and let us leave immediately. We have wasted enough time." She carried Milo, leading her toward the elevator. The men moved to follow.

Finally, he patted my shoulder. "Let's go back inside. We don't want to be rude to our hosts." I nodded, following him back into the mansion. The rest of the evening passed in a blur, my mind racing with thoughts and fears. As I lay in bed that night, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were in way over our heads. And that the Alcatraz brothers were far more dangerous than they appeared.

: C. I looked up. Atlas was watching my face. "Three pieces of news." "Yes." "Tell me." "After dinner. Not in the kitchen. In the library." He stood. He took his folder. He walked down the hall toward the library and didn't look back to see if I was following. I followed. The library was lit by a single lamp on the table between the two leather chairs. Atlas closed the door behind me. He didn't sit. He set the folder on the table. He poured two glasses of water from the carafe Marisol had left.

Damon side eyed Atlas. “Don’t fuck with me!” Atlas growled, I touched his arm to at least calm him. Eventually, his ragged breathing cooled down. I glanced at Ezra again, our eyes contacted. She rolled her eyes at me. My forehead crumpled. Excuse me? “Ezra, you can leave. It was nice talking to you again.” Atlas told her. We were both surprise. “But…” “Go now.” Atlas shooed her away. I blinked, lips slightly apart.

she asked again, her concern genuine, which only made it worse. I let out a soft, awkward chuckle and waved a dismissive hand. “Oh yes, absolutely fine,” I said, this time with exaggerated cheer, hoping to sell the lie. Thankfully, she seemed to buy it. She smiled, gave a small nod, and turned her attention to Atlas. She stood and walked toward him. Over her shoulder, Atlas's eyes met mine. There was worry there—maybe even guilt. But the second she spoke to him, he looked away. I let out a slow breath, grateful the spotlight had shifted. Or so I thought.

"I am very good at this cleaning job Sir and I can reassure you that I am no longer into..." "I never accused you of anything," Atlas cut her off taking another drag from his cigarette. "Martha the little slut," Atlas chuckled cupping her face in his hand as he raised her head so her eyes could meet his, he cupped her face in his hand squeezing tightly as Martha winced from the pain.

But there was no humor in it. “What directions?” “I—I don’t know.” “You told them that?” “Yes…” “What else?” “They just said thank you—and left…” He stilled. “And that’s exactly what they wanted you to believe.” He exhaled slowly. His gaze darkened. “You just told them everything they needed.” It was a statement. “Describe them.” She hesitated. “I—I don’t remember clearly—” His grip tightened. “Think.” Her breath faltered. “One of them… he had a scar. Near his eyebrow.”