VII
Atlas Lucio
M y fists clench as I watch the CCTV. I’ve been sitting here for the past hour, watching as men flirt shamelessly with Hazel. She bats her eyelashes at them until they slip her a tip. Then her face lights up into a truly beautiful smile.
That’s what angers me the most.
She’s smiling at other men.
Forcing myself to unclench my jaw and fists, I turn off the CCTV and try to turn my attention back to work. The figures mean nothing as I read over the spreadsheets from the accountants. I end up reading over the same number multiple times until my irritation gets the best of me.
Fuck this.
I click back onto the CCTV and my blood boils. A man is leaning over the bar, getting in Hazel’s personal space whilst she smiles politely back at him. Her body language is all wrong. Her head is back as though she’s trying to get away.
He doesn’t seem to get the message, though. She holds out the card reader to him and he grabs her wrist, pulling her whole-body flush against the bar.
Not being able to watch this anymore, I stand up and storm out of my office, heading straight down to the bar. The crowd parts as I walk through until I reach the bar. Without stopping, I make my way around to the back of the bar until I’m pressed behind Hazel.
She jumps enough for the man to release his hand, and one harsh glare from me sends him on his way.
“Come with me,” I whisper in her ear. I try to keep my voice soft, but I must fail as she flinches. Fortunately, though, she nods her head and lets me lead her into the stockroom.
I flick the light on, illuminating the multiple cases of beer and supplies. As soon it shuts, I pin her against the door, her body inches away from mine. Lowering my head, I let my hot breath brush against her ear.
I take a deep breath, letting my proximity to her calm my anger, before speaking.
“Are you okay?” She asks me, her voice shaky.
“I should be asking you that,” I move my head back and cock it.
“Why?” She frowns at me.
“I saw the CCTV of that man with you,” I tighten my jaw as I think of the walking dead man.
He’ll learn not to touch what’s mine.
“He was harmless,” she rolls her eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me.”
“Don’t say something that causes me to roll my eyes.”
We stand at an impasse, glaring at each other, until I break the silence.
“Tell men to fuck off when they manhandle you like that,” I command, leaving no tone in my voice to argue with. I take a step back, not wanting to lose control right now.
And yet she does.
“Some of us have to get tips, you know.”
“I thought you didn’t have to worry about rent,” I tilt my head in confusion.
She pauses for a second, pursing her lips as she crosses her arms across her body. I watch as the anger and realisation contorts her face, but I just smirk knowingly.
“You paid my rent!” She points her finger accusingly and I nod.
“Theo said your apartment was ice cold when he dropped your uniform off,” I shrug.
“So fucking what? My personal life is my business. Where do you get off meddling in it like it’s your own?”
“You can’t freeze to death, Hazel.”
“I was doing just fine. I was coping,” she crosses her arms again, glaring harshly up at me. She doesn’t realise but the action pushes her tits up and I fight the urge to stare at them.
“Just take the free rent, Hazel,” I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face. Her being angry at me is draining.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Atlas.”
I’m going to put her over my fucking knee in a minute.
How can one small person be such a brat?
“Fine, do what you fucking want, Hazel, but get fucking smart about who you let touch you or someone will take advantage of you.”
She moves away from the door in shock, and I storm out of the room. The sound of the door banging against the wall follows me as I head back upstairs. I shut off my laptop and grab my jacket, sending a text to Theo to watch over the bar.
It was meant to be my night, but Hazel has pissed me off too much for me to stay here. I’m not going to stay here and watch as men flirt with her whilst she shamelessly flirts back for their tips.
I need to either get laid or murder.
Choosing the second option, I climb into my car and speed towards one of our warehouses. Dawson and Andros greet me as I walk in, but I stalk past, too heavy in my rage to speak to anyone.
I stop by the office and pour myself a large glass of whiskey before downing it in one go. The amber liquid burns as it travels down my throat, soothing me slightly. I leave the glass and head down to the basement.
“What have we got?” I ask the soldier at the door.
“Some lowlives and a few gangbangers who tried to cross us. Nothing special,” he shrugs.
“Perfect. Has Theo been down here yet?”
He shakes his head, and I nod, letting him hold the door open for me.
Walking into the corridor of cells, the mingling scents of piss and blood assault my nostrils.
The smell of desperation.
Theo is in charge of interrogations, and he keeps his prisoners in strict order. Being the most ruthless of us all, it makes sense for him to be the one in control of inflicting violence.
And he’s perfected the art.
It takes me all but twenty minutes to get the first victim to confess, before I slit his throat. I make it through three more until I get bored of the violence and head back upstairs.
“Jesus Christ. You had fun,” Dawson laughs as he walks into the office. I undo the cuffs on my shirt, ignoring his presence. I swap my blood-stained shirt for one of the spares I keep here.
“Who pissed you off?” Andros joins us and I roll my eyes.
Great.
A fucking party.
“Not the Russians. He wouldn’t come storming in here and kill just for them stealing a few shipments again,” Dawson deduces. I huff and sit down in a chair, pouring myself another whiskey.
“I think it was Hazel,” Andros smirks at me. I glare at him as I down my whiskey before pouring out another.
“What did she do?” Dawson asks, leaning forward to grab the whiskies I poured for him and Andros.
“She’s a fucking brat,” I spit out, sipping my drink slowly this time.
They both look at each other for a moment before bursting out laughing. My grip on my glass tightens and I feel anger returning to my body.
“You’re fucked if she’s already getting under your skin,” Dawson chuckles.
“Don’t I fucking know it?” I mutter, slouching back in my seat as they continue to laugh at my misery.