Chapter 4
4
ATLAS
I could break him.
It wouldn’t take much. A single, well-placed strike to the ribs and Eugene Tiddle would fold like cheap linen. Another to his fragile wrists, and he’d never lift a baton again.
He’d be forced to conduct with his voice alone—if I left him that.
The thought made me chuckle. Low, quiet, just for myself.
I wasn’t a cruel man. Not by nature. But I had no patience for men like Eugene. The ones who mistook status for strength, who thought power was something you owned rather than earned. The ones who used words instead of fists to strike at the people who trusted them most.
And now, he had the audacity to claim ownership of her.
I flexed my fingers at my sides, willing the tension out of them. I wasn’t here to entertain violence. I had more important things to do—finding Department 77, hunting the men who wanted to destroy Dominion Hall.
And yet.
Eugene walked away with a puffed-up chest and a rigid spine, his pride so obviously bruised it was almost pathetic.
Anna turned toward me, those deep green eyes searching my face, catching the faint amusement I hadn’t quite erased.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, her voice wary.
I glanced after Eugene, the corner of my mouth curling slightly. Nothing you’d approve of.
But instead of answering in English, I tilted my head, watching her, and spoke in perfect Russian.
“Are you really engaged to that idiot?”
Her lips parted, eyes widening.
I liked that look on her. Caught. Off balance.
Anna stumbled for words, and I watched her struggle, waiting. It wasn’t often I enjoyed making people uncomfortable, unless they deserved it. But something about her—her naivete, her quiet fire—invited it.
She composed herself quickly, lifting her chin. “You speak Russian?”
I shrugged, offering no explanation. “I speak a lot of languages.”
Anna’s gaze flicked over me, scanning, assessing, like she was recalibrating everything she thought she knew. Then, after a beat, she exhaled a quiet laugh. “You don’t look like you do.”
That actually made me chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in my chest. “What, exactly, do I look like?”
Her lips pursed, like she was trying to choose her words carefully. “Like someone who lifts very heavy things and throws them over mountains.”
I smirked. “And you think that means I don’t have a brain?”
She hesitated. “It’s just … unexpected.”
I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice. “I enjoy being unexpected.”
And I did.
My brothers had always assumed they had me figured out—Atlas, the silent one, the brute, the man who spoke with his fists more than his words. And I let them believe that. It was easier that way.
But I had never been just one thing. I had always been more. More than muscle, more than violence, more than what the world expected of a man my size.
I had read more books than I could count. Studied philosophy while the other men in my unit drank themselves blind. Learned languages because I could, because I wanted to, because no one expected me to.
I had always found a strange sort of pleasure in defying assumptions.
And right now, I was enjoying the way Anna was staring at me—like she was seeing me for the first time.
Still, I wasn’t here for distractions.
“You haven’t answered my question,” I said, switching back to English. “What did you ever see in a man like that?”
She shifted, a flicker of something in her expression—embarrassment, maybe. Or regret. “He wasn’t always like that.”
I arched a brow. “No?”
She exhaled, looking away, fingers playing absently with the edge of her dress. “At first, he was … charming. He swept me off my feet. He made me feel like a princess.”
There was a sharpness in my chest I didn’t like. I knew where this story was going before she even finished.
“He cheated on you,” I said, voice low.
Anna’s lips pressed together. Then, after a moment, she nodded.
I let out a slow breath. My hands flexed again, this time not from amusement.
I knew exactly how she felt.
Because it had happened to me, too.
But unlike her, I hadn’t found out through whispers or confessions.
I had been standing at the end of an aisle, waiting for a woman who had promised me forever. I had been prepared to give her everything—my name, my loyalty, my life.
And then, minutes before I was supposed to watch her come down that aisle, I had found out the truth.
She had been fucking someone else for months.
I hadn’t spoken a word to anyone when I left. I had just turned around, walked out of the church, and never looked back.
The memory settled over me like a shadow, darkening the edges of my mind.
I couldn’t be here. Not right now.
Anna’s presence—her soft voice, her wide eyes, her quiet vulnerability—was stirring up things I had buried a long time ago.
And I wanted nothing to do with them.
I exhaled, sharp and quick, shaking my head. “I need to go.”
Anna blinked. “What?”
I didn’t repeat myself. I just stepped back, throwing one last look at Eugene, who was still hovering near the edge of the courtyard, pretending not to glance our way.
The conductor had no idea how close he had come to getting broken.
Then, without another word, I turned and walked away.
Anna was trouble.
And I didn’t have time for trouble.