Page 31

Kairi

I woke up to silence. Real silence. No babbling, no crying, no alarm blaring in my ear. That hadn’t happened—hadn’t happened since I had Dion. He was always up before me, making noise, calling out, doing something. But not today.

I sat up fast. I looked toward the nightstand—my phone wasn’t there. I knew I’d left it there. I yanked the covers back, searching through the sheets, tossing pillows aside. Nothing.

It took a minute for my brain to catch up. Dion was with my father. I sighed. But where was my phone?

Then I smelled it—eggs, bacon. My heart kicked up.

I jumped out of bed, threw on the first clothes I saw, and bolted out of the room. Halfway down the hall, I nearly tripped over my own feet.

At the top of the stairs, I froze. Luggage. Big, heavy bags stacked in the living room—bags that didn’t belong to me.

And just like that, it all came back. Atlas. His threats. His so-called plan. The way he’d looked me in the eye and said he was moving in.

Apparently, he meant it.

My stomach dropped as I ran downstairs. I found Atlas at the stove, cooking like he belonged there, flipping pancakes so casually it made my blood boil. Dion was zooming around the kitchen on a little toddler car I hadn’t bought, giggling like he didn’t have a care in the world. He didn’t even stop to look at me for more than two seconds. It was all so domestic, it took some of my anger away.

Atlas looked back, his eyes meeting mine, a smug smile spreading across his face—the kind that made me want to throw something.

“Morning,” he said, like this was just any other day.

He set the spatula down, unbothered. “What does it look like? I’m making breakfast.”

“You’re not supposed to be here. How is Dion here?” I asked, not giving him time to answer. My eyes flicked to the luggage again. “Why are your bags here?”

Atlas sighed and stared me down. “I told you—we’re starting our life as a family. I wasn’t joking.”

I snapped. “You can’t just—”

“I can, and I am,” he cut me off, his voice steady. “And this will work.” His tone made the words sound like a threat.

I blinked at him, the sheer audacity making my head spin. “Bulldozing your way into my life like it’s yours to take isn’t going to work for me.”

He didn’t react. He just leaned against the counter, arms crossed like this was a normal conversation. “Do I care what you think, Kairi?” His voice was low, with a dark edge. “Do you think I give a damn about what works for you? You had your chance to do things your way, and you fucked it up. Now, we’re doing it mine.” He damn near growled the words.

Atlas’s gaze softened. “I’m not trying to make your life harder, Kairi. I’m trying to make it easier. For you, for Dion, for everyone.”

I glanced at Dion, who was too busy with his car to notice the tension. I hated Atlas for putting me in this position.

I let out a shaky breath, trying to keep myself from losing it. What in the hell was I supposed to do when this man was so determined? “Atlas, you’re asking too much.”

He stepped closer, so close I could feel the heat radiating off him, and his eyes were locked onto mine with a fierceness that took my breath away. “I’m asking for what’s mine. And I’m giving you everything in return.”

I opened my mouth to argue.

He cut me off. “Stop, Kairi.”

“What happens when this goes wrong?” I asked. “When you decide this isn’t enough? When the anger comes back?”

Atlas’s face hardened. “It won’t. Because I’m not going anywhere this time. I’m not running from this.”

He turned back to the stove, flipping the last pancake onto a plate and setting it on the table. “Breakfast is ready. Sit down. I’ll fix you a plate,” he said, his voice calm again. “And your father dropped off Dion. Mrs. Shirley had a doctor’s appointment.”

I stood there, staring at the man who had forced his way back into my life. I turned and left the kitchen and went into my room, closing the door.

For the rest of the day, I stayed in bed. Atlas moved through my house like he owned it. There was no asking, no hesitation. He unpacked his things right into my bedroom after bringing Dion in and setting him on the bed with me. I wanted to scream, wanted to throw him out, but every time I opened my mouth, I came up empty. I couldn’t think of anything but calling the police, but that would create another mess. Fighting him in court was my next great idea, but I didn’t have three million dollars to match him. All I could do was let him do what he wanted and hope his need for revenge dissipated.

I put my focus on Dion. We watched TV, napped, and at lunch, Atlas ordered. I didn’t say anything to Atlas, and it was almost insulting how he didn’t seem to care.

The day went by fast. I was putting Dion to bed when there was a knock at the door.

I tucked Dion in, whispering a quick “goodnight” before heading downstairs. The moment I reached the bottom step, my stomach dropped. Davis was standing in the doorway, his posture tense, his fists clenched at his sides, his suitcase just outside the door.

Atlas, leaning against the wall, arms crossed casually, was spilling all the fucking beans.

“We decided to move in together and try to build something for Dion’s sake,” he half-lied.

“What’s going on, Kairi? Is what he says true?” Davis looked between Atlas and me, his eyes filled with confusion.

I couldn’t believe I had forgotten all about Davis coming. He had probably called me a thousand times since I was supposed to pick him up from the airport, but my phone was still missing.

Atlas had a smug smile on his face, and I knew he was responsible.

“I’m sorry, Davis.” It was the only thing I could think to say. He didn’t deserve any of this.

Davis’s face twisted, his gaze snapping to me. “Sorry? You’ve been lying since the moment I met you,” he snapped. “You told me Dion’s father wanted nothing to do with him. You know how that affected me, knowing my own dad walked out on me. You lied to my fucking face.”

I tried to step forward, tried to reach for him, but he jerked away, disgust and hurt written all over his face. “Davis, please, let me explain—”

He backed up, his jaw clenched. “Kick rocks with your explanation,” he spat, turning and walking away, his footsteps echoing on the pavement as he disappeared into the night.

I stood there, anger and frustration bubbling up inside me. I turned back to Atlas, who was still leaning against the wall, unbothered by the chaos he’d just stirred up.

“Why the hell would you do that?” I demanded, my voice trembling. “You didn’t have to say anything to him. You could’ve let me handle it,” I said, even though I didn’t even know how that conversation would’ve gone.

Atlas shrugged coldly. “I didn’t want you leading him on for years like you did me,” he said simply, his eyes locking onto mine.

My hands balled into fists at my sides, the urge to hit something—or someone—to hit his ass—burned under my flesh.

Atlas pushed off the wall and walked past me, not even giving me a second glance as he headed upstairs.

“You’re welcome,” he tossed over his shoulder, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’m going to go check on Dion,” he said before disappearing up the stairs.

I stood there, seething, feeling like I was stuck in this upside-down version of my life, where nothing was mine anymore. Not even my choices. I didn’t know how to make this right, didn’t know how to regain any semblance of control.