Stealing the Heart of Mr. Steele

Chapter 108 [Cordelia]

It took me 15 minutes to clear everything of mine out of my office at Steele Industries.

My heart is heavy. I don't understand how Atlas could do this, how he could do any of this. And Angelica... we used to be so close once. If she knows I once cared for Atlas and suspects I still do, why is she being so cruel?

Night has fallen before I make it out of bed again. Tilly has gone for the evening. She left a note on the refrigerator about going back to Malibu for last-minute changes to her line, but that she left me something in the fridge. "Don't wait up! I'll see you in the morning!" This line must be very important, Tilly has been going to Malibu almost every day to tend to it.

That's what I should have done with my line. I should have camped out at work. Then none of this would have happened. I'd have seen the changes in time to keep it from being a disaster.

Sigh. I really need a friend right now. I wonder what Clark is up to. I send him a quick text as I emerge from my dark bedroom. Asking if he could stop by, I put out an offer for dinner and a movie.

"Sorry, Cordy," he responds. "I'm out of town until tomorrow. Let's meet up for breakfast. I have something I need to talk to you about."

It looks like I'll need to face this alone, again.

There is a soft knock on my door. Opening it, I see a large package next to a bouquet of the most elegant long-stem roses in shades of white and pink. My name, Cordelia, is written out in a long flowing hand in deep, black ink. Atlas. That's Atlas' handwriting.

I lift the package. Underneath is a plain manila envelope.

Bringing everything inside, I place the roses on the counter and open the envelope. At first, I'm not sure what I'm looking at, but once it all starts making sense, everything clicks into place.

Angelica. Angelica destroyed my line. But why? We might not have ever been close, and she has been acting weirder than usual, but this is another level of mean-spiritedness. There must be something else motivating her. (1

Did Jude do something to her on that island? Is she acting of her own volition, or is someone else pulling her strings?

I hear something else rattling around inside the envelope and pull out a letter addressed to me.

"Dear Cordelia," it reads. "I am sorry that I didn't realize what was happening under my nose in my own company. I should have known better. I should have been more aware. I know how precious and important this line is to you and how hard you worked on it. I promised you a safe place to work and I failed. For that, I know I can never make it up to you."

"Since you left this afternoon, I have had our staff working overtime to correct the mistake. Every employee who knowingly contributed to this chaos has been terminated. All of the vendors have been contacted to extend your deadlines and have been compensated for their losses. I made sure that the

fault did not lie with you but with Steele Industries. Your name and reputation are clear."

"I know that this doesn't begin to make up for the pain and suffering you have endured. I know I cannot expect your friendship or love but I hope I can receive your forgiveness."

"Atlas," he signs it with his usual flourish.

Placing my face in my hands, I take deep long breaths as my body strains to regain control. My mind is reeling as it finds a new equilibrium. I have been so angry for so much of my day, that even though I see evidence of his desire to make things right between us, I am having a hard time letting go.

I almost forgot the package sitting next to me.

With shaking hands, I open it carefully.

On top of the tissue paper is another letter.

"No strings. No obligations. I just thought you should have this. It was made for you."

Underneath the tissue is the beautiful wedding dress I had tried on in the salon. The one that Atlas had helped me remove with such care and passion. I sigh, thinking of his hands and his mouth on my body, giving me pleasure, and showing me his devotion. In those moments, I had felt more loved and wanted than I had ever felt.

But is it enough? Is a stolen moment enough?

There is another rapping at my door. "What is it now," I mumble as I make my way across the room.NôvelDrama.Org is the owner.

Pulling open the door I find Atlas, looking more disheveled than I have ever seen him. His hair is a mess, his suit rumpled, the jacket missing and his sleeves rolled up to his elbow. He holds out a hand which is covered in small scrapes and a single black smudge of grease.

"Cordelia," he rasps. His eyes are ringed with large, dark circles. "I have something I want to show you."

VictoryAnne Vice Author

Would you go with him?