Atlas shut the door behind him, before walking forward.
He kept his eyes on Aveline, gauging her body language to figure out if his mother had gotten to her.
Finally, he stopped in front of her, and bent to pick up her shoes.
He straightened up with the shoes in his hand, and his eyes back on her face.
"What did my mother want?" He asked.
"For me to leave you," she replied with a shaky voice.
He bobbed his head. "What was your response?"
Aveline lifted her head to fully look at him. There wasn't an iota of surprise in his face. It was as if what she told him was exactly what he had expected from his mother.
"She offered me twenty million dollars," she said.
He inhaled sharply. "Tempting offer. Any smart person would have taken it. As a business man myself, I would accept that kind of offer. Save yourself the stress of living with a stranger for one year, with so many rules attached to it too. Did you take it?" He asked nonchalantly.
Aveline's mind rioted. He was so calm about all of this, as if any of it was normal.
No normal family just offered twenty million dollars to their potential in-law, just to leave. Those kinds of things only happened in one's imagination.
It wasn't normal money. It was an outrageous amount, and he was acting so normal about it.
"I didn't," she replied.
"Why?" He continued in his monotonous tone.
She opened her mouth to tell him the truth, but quickly shut it back. "You're too honest sometimes, Aveline." She chided herself inwardly.
"It's okay if you don't want to tell me why. I should be grateful right? You could have spilled the contents of our deal, got some money, and left me to deal with the aftermath with my family."
"Like you did at dinner?" She freely blurted out this time.
He stiffened inwardly, but kept his composure outwardly. "Speaking about dinner, what was that move you pulled?"
Aveline's mind exploded. He had gone from a near gratitude speech, to asking her questions in that condescending tone of his.
That tone was another feature the Sinclair's seemed to have.
Some genuinely didn't know they were being condescending. Others relished in it.
"What move?" She asked, damn proud of herself for managing to keep the quivers off her voice this time.
"The French thing. I picked France because it's the home of art. I didn't really think you'd know how to speak French. How do you know that?" He asked.
Aveline chortled dryly. "Wow," she muttered.
"I didn't think I was being funny. What's funny?" He lifted a brow.
"Damn you," she thought. That perfect eyebrow, another trait the Sinclair's had that fascinated her, presently annoyed her.
"I just know it. Excuse me please, I'd like to take a shower." She turned to walk away from his sight, but he grabbed her by the arm before she could even take a step.
Her mouth fell open in shock, as he dragged her behind.
"Stay right there," he said.
Letting go, he walked to the closet, and pushed a button by the side.
The large closet opened up, revealing their bags the staff had already brought into the room.
He switched sides to that of the shoes, and placed her heels there, before closing the closet again.
As he turned around to return to her, Aveline remained rooted in place.
She still couldn't believe that this night was happening. Every part of it.
"You are very dodgy about your background—" he stopped in front of her again. "Now usually, I wouldn't give a damn. However, problems like tonight could arise again, and I would hate to be caught off guard. So tell me, is there something important I should know about your background?"
"And you?" Aveline quickly gathered enough courage to throw back at him.
He blinked. "What?"
"Your mother said you and Faiza were a thing since birth. Why do you make it look like she irritates you and you can't stand her?"
"Mother," he muttered under his breath, dragging the words in between his lower teeth to project his frustration.
"You always like to make it look like you don't see differences. Poor, rich, fat, skinny, ugly, and beautiful. But right now, it feels like you don't think I should have any secrets of my own, even when you have a lot of yours."
Atlas was stabbed a little by the sharp jab in her words, but he recovered just as swiftly. "I'm not paying you to keep secrets Aveline."
Her toes curled instantly. There it was again. The condescension.
"Yeah, you're right. I've been bought by you. Technically, I'm your slave. I don't own myself anymore. You own me," she whispered bitterly.
"It's the unfortunate truth. But don't act like you're totally helpless. Even right now, you can walk out of the room, return to my mother's room, and spill my big secret. You'll leave with almost the same amount I'll be giving you in one year, now. It's all up to you." He moved out of the way, giving her the opportunity to leave freely.
However deep down, his stomach tightened.
He was curious to see what she'd do. She owed him no loyalty. In fact, she would be well within her rights to do everything he had just said. But for some reason, he held his breath.
"I already signed a contract. If I do all you've just said, you could sue me for breaching the contract. I'm not a fool. But thank you for answering my earlier question. All you pay me for is to be owned by you. You won't have my back when I'm ambushed. You won't have my back against your family. I must fight my battles myself. I must earn every cent you're buying me for. Thanks for the clarity."
Atlas watched her walk away from him. He wanted to call out to her. To explain that nothing she had just said crossed his mind when he suggested she could go to his mother.
However, something held him and his tongue back. He watched her walk into the bathroom, and shut the door behind her.
His phone rang at that moment, and he quickly pulled it out of his pocket.
"Do you still need the phone?" Theo asked.
"Not tonight. Give it to her on my behalf tomorrow," Atlas replied.
"Atlas, what happened? You sound weird."
"Nothing. I'm just going to have a word with my mother." He ended the call, and with a determined glare, went in search of Nadia Sinclair.