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“Charming as always.” He didn’t bother pointing out that Stella had worked her way to managing the front desk and walked out. He found Oliver in his suite, having his final fitting for the tuxedo he would wear tomorrow night.
“You,”he sneered when Atlas strode in after a brief knock.
“I need a moment with my father, Enzo.Per favore,” Atlas said to the tailor.
The man who had had his hand on Atlas’s inseam for more than a decade helped Oliver remove his jacket and left with it, closing the door behind him.
Oliver stepped off the riser and moved into the sitting room, where he pulled the stopper off a decanter of brandy. “How the hell did you let yourself get caught?”
Not “Who is she?” or “What happened?” but “How dare you get caught?”
“You’ve put me in a terrible position with Makepeace,” Oliver continued with crisp annoyance. “He’s already putting the thumbscrews to me, demanding a placement for his nephew. The boy is an absolute disaster, but I don’t have a choice now, do I?”
Oliver only understood the world in terms of power and manipulation, backstabbing and back-scratching, which was why Atlas had decided to play his game and win it.
“I met Stella the first time we went to Zermatt, for that winter shoot when Carmel was nearly arrested.” That was an exaggeration, but Atlas enjoyed reminding his father that police had come to the chalet. “You met her, too. Briefly. Then you had her fired.”
Atlas had debated whether to tell his father that. God knew Oliver wouldn’t remember her and likely didn’t remember the incident beyond a scandal he’d had to clean up. Atlas didn’t want Stella’s position as a chalet girl to come out later, though, when Oliver might think he could embarrass her with it.
“You’ve been poking her all this time?” Oliver made a face of distaste as he handed Atlas one of the glasses of brandy. “Tell me it’s finally over. I don’t care what it cost, but why haven’t you made a statement yet? What the hell have you been doing for two days?”
“Getting married. The announcement will go out shortly.”
“Married. Not to her? That had better be a joke. Good God, she’s pregnant?” His lip curled in distaste. “Not so high on your horse now, are you?”
“She’s not pregnant,” Atlas said with malicious cheer. “I married her because I wanted to.”
“You’re not that stupid, Atlas.” Oliver hitched his trousers as he sat in his favorite throne-like armchair. “What could she possibly bring to a marriage? Is she secretly sitting on a fortune?”
“No, but neither was Iris.”
“Iris was a valuable alliance. The Makepeace-Reids offer credibility and lineage. Esteem.”
“You keep trying to polish me into legitimacy,” Atlas noted with a humorless shake of his head. “I’m never going to be anything but your bastard son, Oliver. It’s time to accept that.”
“I will not,” he said with great indignation. “Are you seriously asking me to condone your marriage to a chambermaid? Dragging my name down as you do?”
“I don’t use your name, do I?” Atlas taunted.
“Quit being a child. I was already married.” Oliver put on his testy voice, as though his marital status would have made a difference when they both knew he would never have married Oliver’s mother. A taverna waitress? No. His contempt for Atlas’s mother was as plain as his derision of Stella. “I refuse to accept this,” Oliver declared. “Annul it or I’ll strike you from my will.”
He could try. After a paternity test and all these years of being recognized as his son, contributing to the wealth Oliver continued to enjoy, Atlas had a very good shot at contesting any changes and they both knew it. Atlas also had a fortune in his own right, built on early investments and his work at DVE. He could weather losing the assets Oliver had promised him.
“We can turn this into war if you want to.” Atlas let him see he was completely unbothered by the prospect. “But let me remind you that the board has held off on voting for me to replace you because I was single. Now that I have a wife—”
“You have a pawn you’re trying to turn into a queen. They will see through this mopping of a scandal. You’re no better than me, Atlas. They know it as well as we both do.”
“I cleaned up my scandal in the most honorable way possible.” Yes, that was a dig against his father’s countless conquests who’d been paid to disappear when they became inconvenient. “I’ve spent years demonstrating sound judgment and responsible leadership. One stumble doesn’t erase any of that. Most importantly, if the board decides they can’t support me, they can watch me move to greener pastures. I’m young enough to start over. Are you young enough to continue running DVE without me? To guide it into the future? Are you strong enough to fend off whoever they chooseinsteadof me?”
Oliver lowered his drink, realizing with a choke of astonishment, “This is a coup.”
“It is.” Atlas saluted him with his own glass. “You can decide how bloody it will be.”
* * *
In the fog of getting married and celebrating with nonstop sex, Stella had failed to fully process what marrying Atlas meant for herlife.
Everything changed quite literally overnight. She had not only left her home and job behind, but lost the person she had always been. She was no longer the clerk behind the desk or the voice on the phone who assisted others. She was surrounded by people doing that for her, all respectful and cheerful and trying to anticipate her needs. They made her bed and carried her bag and ran her bath and poured her coffee. She was not one of them.