All Chapters of Stealing the Heart of Mr. Steele: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

[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

[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

[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

[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

[Atlas]She looked so tired when she asked me to leave, that I agreed to give her enough space to rest. I didn’t want to admit that I needed rest too. I was willing to watch over her sleeping form until I knew she was well enough to travel. I wanted to bring her home with me, but she refused. “I want to go slow,” she insisted. “Last time I was forced into your world. This time, I’d like to invite you into mine.”So I went home. Climbing into bed, I couldn’t sleep, haunted by memories of her and me together. Not just the unforgettable passion of that night when our child was conceived, but every kiss, every fight, and every interaction since. This time will be different because this time, we are coming together because we choose to, not because we are told to. Eventually, I gave up on sleeping.I won’t feel comfortable until I’ve seen her safely return to her home. Climbing out of bed, I wash, eat, and rush back to the hospital. When I get there, I don’t stop to check in but go dire