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Chapter 39
Last Updated:
2024-10-29 19:42:56[Sydney}
When I saw Atlas’ brother carrying Cordelia into the hallway like a fallen princess, I couldn’t help but react. And then I had to cover up my shock with another excuse. I may have overdone it because now I am stuck in the sick room lying down on a cot with a heart monitor on my chest. They think I had a real panic attack.
In truth, I almost did. For the amount of money I paid for those delivery men, you’d think they’d get the timing right! Because they jumped the gun, trying to snatch her too early, there wasn’t enough distraction for them to successfully carry out the plan.
Bad things always happen when you don’t stick to the plan.
Pushing the buttons on my phone hard enough to bruise my fingers, I text them back
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[Cordelia]Twirling in a full-length emerald velvet gown with matching opera-length gloves I stop, facing Tilly and ask, “You don’t think this looks a bit…dramatic, do you?”Her own dress is bright red and looks amazing against her sun-kissed skin and black hair. “For your premiere fashion show, absolutely not. The whole point is to get everyone’s attention.”Moving over to our shared dresser, I use the hanging mirror to help me position the antique emerald comb. After the incident, Clark placed it in the room for me and I’m grateful. I would have been sad to have lost such a precious family heirloom.Why did he give this to me? What is Atlas thinking?
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[Atlas]Sydney has been acting strangely since I collected her from the clinic earlier today. First, she asked me to take her to a pharmacy to buy some medication she forgot to pack. Then she had me rush to get ready so that we could be at the fashion show early so that she could meet some friends and let them in.I had asked her why she didn’t just tell the concierge to let them in, but she just said “Because it is a surprise, silly. You wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise, would you?”Then, when that masked man tried to shoot me, she leaned on his arm to get him to stop. She almost got us both killed. But instead of looking terrified, she seems almost manic. Maybe this is what she looks like when she’s panicked.“I need to chang
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[Atlas]I have no choice but to call the police.As soon as I tell Sydney this, she starts to cry. “But Atlas, don’t you see? I did it for you!” she weeps as she grabs my knees, begging. “I did it for us.” Disgusted. I stand, avoiding her grasping hands while I text my brother. She keeps calling my name as I pace back and forth. Seeing me otherwise occupied, she leaps to her feet and grabs a small bag from inside of the cleavage of her dress. Opening it, she tilts it above her mouth.I move to grab it, but she takes a large step backward. The white po
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[Unknown]Wearing a uniform is better than becoming invisible.It always surprises me in situations like this how easy it is for some to ignore a person in uniform. Clothing has so much power when it comes to revealing or disguising someone’s true nature.Dress like a janitor, you’re a janitor and nobody looks at you twice.Dress like a doctor, you are a doctor and will be given respect and admiration.Dress like a waiter, and you might as well be a ghost. Most forget they ever saw you because you are so beneath their notice that you aren’t worth remembering.Keeping my expression blank, I move through the elegantly clad throng. Avoiding e
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We saw the police rushing into the hotel and headed straight for the elevator as Tilly and I made our way to the celebration dinner. The room became silent and still, but as soon as the doors closed, the room became noisy with suspicion as people made guesses about who and what just happened. Some are even considering not coming back next year. “This show is obviously cursed,” a woman in a tweed suit sniffed, “And it is poorly managed. The security here is FAR too lax.” I can’t argue with that statement. This event has had far more excitement than I’d ever want to experience again. Between almost getting kidnapped, someone trying to shoot Atlas, and now this, whatever it is, I think I could use a nice vacation.
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[Atlas] Cordelia falls limp in my arms, her body completely unresponsive as I call her name over and over again. “Somebody call the paramedics!” I shout into the crowd as I sweep her into my arms. “Hurry, please, I think she might have been poisoned!” At the word “poisoned” the people around me began to panic, worried more about their own safety than that of my wife. How did this happen? How did I let someone get close enough to hurt her s
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[Atlas] Pregnant. Cordelia is pregnant. I stop hearing what else she is saying because my mind is still reeling. How can she be pregnant? Remembering I am not alone, I take a breath and ask, “Two months?” “Around 10 weeks, give or take a day or two depending on when her last menstrual cycle was. The baby should be here by early summer…” she says with a bright smile. “Congratulations.” Our divorce was finalized two months ago. That would mean that she became pregnant just before we signed those papers. Give or take a few days. I think back to exactly when that pregnancy might have occurred. The night I found her drinking wine. Wine that was likely drugged by Sydney. The night she and I... Oh. No. It was only the one time. It’s not possible…I can’t…we can’t… “Mr. Steele,” the doctor calls my name. “Are you okay?” “I’m sorry, I just…It’s been a very long day,” I say to excuse my behavior. “Can I see her?” “As long as you do not disturb her,” the doct
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[Cordelia] Someone is holding my hand. Opening my eyes just a crack, I see Atlas’ blond hair glowing in the nearby lamplight. He looks softer than he usually does with his hair askew and his shirt unbuttoned with cuffs rolled up to his elbows. He is always so crisply dressed, so cold and distant in the way he presents himself to the world–especially to me. Yet at this moment as he sits here holding my hand he looks soft, gentle, and warm. I gasp, my chest pounding as I moan in agony. My entire body feels abused and tender. “Cordelia,” he whispers, hearing me gasp, sitting up a bit str
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[Cordelia]The man drew closer and I realized my mistake immediately."You're not Atlas," my accusing finger hovers below his chin. He is maybe two inches taller than Atlas, and I'm not used to looking up at such a familiar face. "Close, but not quite."The gentleman laughs. "Right there, Lil Miss," his voice has a strong, rugged-sounding accent. "Or should I say," he takes my passport and squints at the picture, "Ms Ortega. A pleasure to meet you, I'm Wally." "Wally?" I blink up at the stranger with an overeager smile. The longer I look at him the less he looks like my Atlas. While he does have the same chiseled features and a similar muscular build, everything from how he holds himself to how he speaks is so very different. This man is hot on the surface in the ways that Atlas is cold and aloof. My husband shares his smiles sparingly and they are almost never so wide and toothy. But when Atlas smiles at you, really smiles, you know it is genuine. I'm not sure I can trust a thing t
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[Cordelia]Once we were airborne and free of Canadian airspace, the tension level of the passengers on the plane immediately relaxed, as if we had passed some kind of test.Even Suzanna breathed a sigh of relief when we landed in New York City. But then she does something I wasn't expecting. She dismisses most of our guards. They nod, taking her word as a commandment, leaving us with only three security members in one of the largest airports in the United States. "This next leg of our trip will be on a commercial airline," she explained as we gathered our belongings. "We will call too much attention to us with that many guards. I'm calling in some of my own for when we arrive." She replies when I question her judgment. "Magnus likely put a tracker on this plane. We need to trick him, and there's no better place than New York City. But if we continue to move in a large pack, we're bound to attract attention." "Reste près," my mother Cristine held out a hand for me to hold as she held
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[Atlas]Delilah Fisher steps around the corner in a long, silver gown, her makeup flawless, and her smile large and welcoming.She looks so much like Angelica did when I first met her that my heart stutters. I love Cordelia with my entire being, and yet a part of me still reacts to the memory of the shining girl who captured my attention almost a decade ago. But this isn't Angelica. Delilah, while beautiful and poised, lacks the immaculate grace that Angelica exuded. Each of the sisters has a unique nature that shines through, despite having almost identical faces."Atlas Steele," her heels click in the silent room as she steps into the light. "Why is it so hard for you to believe your brother? Haven't you seen enough wonders in this world yet to understand that anything can be possible?""There's no such thing as mind control," I repeat. "Believing in psychic powers is for fools.""And you pride yourself on not being one," she smirks, amused. "But a true wise man would keep his mind
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[Jude]Sydney. Now that she has me under her control, I'll never be free of her. When I came to save her, I was convinced she was pregnant with my child. She had sent a distress signal to me using our private channels letting me know of her pregnancy and it was enough to get me to betray the Steele family and derail their plans to find their cure. Using what I knew about Atlas' missing mother was just a distraction.My goal had always been to claim my son.But then I discovered that beyond all logic Angelica is still alive.I should have realized this was possible and known that Magnus wouldn't give up such a valuable tool so easily. Angelica had been Magnus' toy for years before she was sent into my world. I knew he had modified her, and turned her into the perfect weapon, but I had no idea how deep those modifications went until I saw her face staring at me on that magazine cover.She shouldn't have survived that explosion. And yet here she is, unscathed, awaiting a new uterus in
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[Atlas]I twist my arm away from the guard in black. His face is blank as he reaches forward again. "Don't." My voice carries forward, and although it isn't loud, it holds a note of command that makes the armed guard pause."Sir," he blinks retracting his hand. "You are trespassing. I was ordered to take you into holding." My face remains still as my voice rings out again, "You will not touch us. You have no right." The guard swallows, taking a step back, my words hitting him with the force of a slap. "We will leave," I inform him. "You will report our apologies to your boss." He nods, accepting my command. "Atlas," Clark calls my attention to our situation. Blinking I snap awake, and pull my gaze from the guard. As soon as I blink, the guard stumbles backward shaking his head in confusion, as if my words and stare alone were enough to entrap him in some kind of trance. Around the edges of my vision, I see more guards headed in our direction. If we are going to make it out of h
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[Atlas]Damn it, Cordelia!"Pick up, pick up, pick up," the phone rings but nobody replies. "This number is unavailable as dialed, please try again," the message on the other end informs me as my blood pressure rises and my hands shake.A moment ago I had been talking to my wife. And then the line was dead. I sent her to Canada to keep her and our children safe, and she chose to bring herself to Magnus' attention. Sending a quick message to the guards in charge of watching over my family, I stare at my screen waiting for word of their status. "Atlas, is there anything I can do to help?"Blinking away from the screen I look up at my brother as our rented van parks a few blocks away from the luau. Our driver informs us of our arrival and waits for further instructions."I'm sorry, Clark," I close my eyes, rubbing my temples. "You were saying something?""Is everything okay?" He tries again and I groan. "No." I groan honestly. "Or at least, I hope everything is fine. Lately, it seems
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[Clark]The message "Tilly SOS" flicked across the screen three times before winking out, leaving my screen blank. I open my email that I keep under an alias on a secure server. There is a single message alerting me to new information available on my server. I've used this system when working with people who needed to keep their identities safe and their messages secret. The last time I needed it was working with Jude while he was still under Magnus' watch.Even though it has been months since I used it, my fingers remember the passcodes. Soon, I'll be on the server. Two emails are waiting for me, both are from Tilly's parents. In the first message, they inform me that they have landed and are settling in their new place. It is a secure facility, surrounded by several acres of land, disconnected from the distant towns and cities. The Madisons, sparing no expense, went to extra lengths to include copious additional security.They are, after all, securing their legacy. Tilly is their o
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[Cordelia]There is a loud explosion just to the right of the airplane. "What was that," I lower the phone, turning it off as I gaze out the window to see what had caused the noise. "Nothing, Ma'am," the co-pilot says over his shoulder, "Just a little turbulence.""Turbulence?" I shout back as another boom resounds just outside the passenger's cabin as a curtain goes up between the pilots and the rest of the plane, blocking our view. "But we aren't even in the air yet!""Calm yourself, Mrs. Steele," Jake, the security guard, takes his phone from my numb hand. "Sit next to your children and trust your staff to get you out of here safely. We've got this, Mrs. Steele."He almost seemed offended in my lack of faith as he types into his phone what I'm guessing is a message to Atlas to calm his nerves and let him know we are alive. "But nobody is telling me what's happening," I grumble as I buckle in next to Jasper and the little girl I've decided to call Saphira until I learn her real na
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[Atlas]"What do you mean gone," I barked into the phone, my hand clenching it tight enough to hear it crunch. These new smartphones seem to get flimsier with each model. I've broken 3 in the last 6 months from anger or nerves. I love my wife, but I'm pretty sure she's going to stress me into an early grave. "Your mother created a distraction, Sir," my lead guard, Jake, apologizes over the phone, not making excuses as much as stating facts. "Mrs. Suzanna Steele arrived late last night along with a young man she called Sasha. The next morning, while your mother and Ms. Devaroux kept me distracted searching for a false threat, your wife and this young man escaped."Cordelia has always been sneaky when she needs to be, and until this point, he had been very good at keeping her from falling into mischief. I wasn't expecting my mother to be part of the problem. At least now I know where she ran off to. Her room had been empty when I returned to the boat yesterday. "Are you sure it is m
