Stealing the Heart of Mr. Steele novel Chapter 69

Chapter 69 

[Cordelia] 

The sun had completely set before we had made our way back to the studio flat I share with Tilly. Or rather, had shared. There is nothing left to share now. 

“Gone,” I choke as I struggle not to cry. “Gone, all gone” 

Atlas doesn’t interfere as I search through the remains of the rubble by the radiant glow of the streetlamp from across the street. It might be after 8pm, but it is never truly dark in LA, more of a perpetual twilight. The neon signs from a nearby billboard casts the ashes and soot covered beams in an eerie, ghostly 

green. 

It doesn’t seem quite real. Just a few hours ago everything was normal, the way it had been for months. Even when I had disappeared, taken to that blasted island, everything remained where I had last placed it. 

I was only gone for an afternoon. It was still so perfect when I left. 

Blinking through tears, I see a shiny bit of metal gleaming in the ashy dark. It is so small I could have easily missed it, had my head not been turned in just the right way for it to sparkle just slightly. Keeping my head tilted to one side, without taking my eyes off of it, I move around fallen and burned items to dig up an unexpected treasure. 

The silver comb, the one given to me by Atlas at the expo. 

Somehow, Atlas‘ family heirloom had survived the blaze. Holding it to my chest, I ignore the stains as they form in the outline of its teeth on the bodice of my dress right above my heart. 

“I am so glad you were not home,” Atlas comes around to hold me from behind, warming me with his embrace. His body is shaking. “Imagine if you had been here and were unable to leave.” 

Poor Tilly. This must have been terrifying for her. 

Looking around the wreckage, I can see the path that the fire department took as they did their best to save as much of the block as they could. Even in the strange half–dark of the city, it is clear to see where the fire started. 

Jude’s condo. 

“Did anyone say anything about how this started?” I ask Atlas. 

“They say it looks like a simple accident,” he surveys the rubble, looking for signs of his own. “The police have been unable to find any evidence of arson.” 

It all feels too convenient. I wonder if the police had found the secret door in his house, or all the other potentially devious nooks and crannies. 

“This can’t be happening,” I start to cry, holding my belly. “All that hard work, all that effort, and for what?” 

“This is not the end for you, Cordelia,” Atlas swears. “You are far too talented to have something like this hold you back.” 

“But Atlas, I had invested everything I had into this business. There is nothing left unless I can fill those orders, and how can I do that without my prototypes? 

Chapter 19 

+25 BONUS 

“We’ll find a way,” he swears. “I won’t let you fall.” 

As comforting as his words are, I can’t help but worry and wonder. 

I don’t care what the police say. This was not an accident. 

My only question is, why? 

I mention this possibility to Atlas, and he holds onto me even more possessively than before. Is it because he knows I am carrying his heir, a son to carry on his name and legacy, or is it just because it is in his nature to protect me? 

“You can’t stay here,” he announces with a finality in his voice that makes me pause. Why does he think he has any say in what I do next? He doesn’t control me. I make my own decisions. 

“Tilly texted me where she is staying.” I show him the map on my phone. It is a small building on the other side of downtown. “She says there is plenty of room for me there. If you could drop me off I…” 

“No,” he insists, cutting my words short. “You’re coming home with me. There is no way I am leaving you somewhere that I cannot see you.” 

I take a step away from him. “It is not for you to decide. I will be safe with Tilly. Besides, Clark will be nearby and he can look out for me too. His studio space is in the same building.” 

He bristles a little at the mention of his brother’s name. “About Clark…why did you accept his proposal?” 

“What?” I sputter, almost tripping as we make our way out of what remains of my work/live space. “It’s just for show until Angelica is healed, Atlas. It’s not a real proposal.”