Heartbreak Me by T.L. Smith Page 0,20

making sure I have my purse and keys.

Atlas holds the car door open for me. I slide in, and he watches the way my body moves. I can feel his eyes glued to me. Fuck! I was glued to my body too when I looked in the mirror. This dress would make a six look like a ten, that’s the kind of magic it holds.

“Do you plan to give me instructions for tonight?” I ask when he gets in.

The car takes off, and I turn to look at him. His head is down, looking at his cell phone.

“The plans I had for you aren’t really working out. So change of plans,” he says, not looking up.

“What were the plans?” I ask.

Turning to look at me, he says, “You were to do a lot of things you more than likely wouldn’t be comfortable with.”

“You play me like a chess piece, and now you’re pulling me off the board and calling what? Checkmate? I’m confused.” I shake my head. “What was it you would have had me doing?” The car comes to a stop, and he turns to get out. “Tell me, Atlas. What would you have had me do?”

He turns to look at me, leans over and grabs hold of my face, gripping it hard between his fingers. “I would have used and abused you in ways you can only imagine.”

“How?” I manage to speak, though I am shocked by his words.

“You would have been a pawn. I would have made you suck the cock of my enemy to get what I wanted, just like that girl did to me. I would throw you to the wolves and wouldn’t care what they did to you, as long as you came out with valuable information, if that’s what was needed.” His breath is heavy on my face with his closeness. Atlas squeezes my face just a second longer before he drops his hands and pulls back. “Now stop questioning me before I decide to make you pay your sister’s debt back by getting on your knees for me.” He leaves the car as I sit there, more than a little shocked. My cheeks now hurting from his firm grip, and wondering if I should have thrown meat at the tiger like that and not have expected him to bite me back. Because if I am not careful, soon he may just feed me to the wolves.

My door opens, and the driver stands there with Atlas in front of him, his elbow extended, waiting for me. Blowing out a breath, I slide out and take his waiting arm. He doesn’t even glance at me before he starts walking.

We enter a ballroom, and the minute we do, I know we are rubbing elbows with the elite. I spot a public figure straight away. He offers a small head nod to Atlas who gives one back in return.

“Mr. Hyde, so good to see you in attendance tonight.”

I almost let the shock of his last name show on my face. Almost.

Hyde? Really? Gosh, that suits him more than he will ever know.

Atlas glances at me as if he knows my reaction and pins me with a stare before he looks back at the man who’s talking to him. I pay no attention. Politics has never interested me, just like gambling never did.

“Yes, good…” is all he says in return.

I guess it’s not just me he doesn’t give much conversation to.

“And who is this fine lady?” His hand is offered, and I go to place mine in it, but Mr. Hyde, aka Atlas, pulls me back.

“This… is no one of interest to you.”

“Oh, no sharing?” he jokes, but I look at Atlas, and somehow, I don’t think it’s a joke.

Atlas starts walking and pulls me along with him to the next group of people. He says his hellos to about a million people—okay, slight exaggeration—until we finally greet two more people before we get to sit. When we do finally take a seat, my feet are thankful, as these heels are killing me.

“You don’t talk or seem to like most of these people. So why are you here?” I ask as we sit mostly in silence.

A waiter walks past, and I eye the glasses of champagne, but I know better than to drink while he’s around. When I get back home after this shitshow I will get drunk. I need it. And I’m not even much of a drinker normally.

“Did I ask for conversation?” he snaps.

A hand