10 | ☕Atlas Can Make Coffee? ☕
Anya was still reeling from yesterday's conversation, her mind refusing to quiet down even as she moved through the motions of her morning routine.
Atlas—Mister Broody CEO Who Scares People for Fun—had been coming in every single day for a drink he didn't even like.
It was all so... bizarre. She had seen him around before—cold, aloof, and with that almost intimidating aura that made people nervously clear a path when he entered a room.
But now?
Now he was here, in her café, day after day, ordering a drink he only half-heartedly drank, if that. Was he trying to support her business? Was he just that bored? Or, was there something more to his visits—something deeper she couldn't quite grasp?
The possibilities made her brain spin in frustrating circles. She couldn't tell if he was just being polite or if there was some hidden agenda behind it. Her mind twisted into knots, and with each passing moment, it only seemed to get more confusing.
"Maybe he's just testing how good your coffee really is," Kaia suggested with a teasing grin, wiping down the counter as she spoke. She was always the one who found humour in the strangest situations. "Or maybe he just likes being here. I mean, you do make the best lattes in town."
Anya shot her a suspicious look, brows furrowing. "Okay, see, you keep saying things that sound normal, but when it's about Atlas, it just sounds like a trap." Her voice was tinged with doubt. "What's next? He's secretly in love with me and just too shy to admit it?"
Kaia's grin only grew wider, clearly enjoying her best friend's internal turmoil. "Well, we can't rule it out. People like him—rich, mysterious, always surrounded by a cloud of danger—they're the ones who are always hiding something."
Anya opened her mouth to protest, but Kaia was already on a roll. "Would you like me to start charging him rent for how much he's living in your head?" Kaia's voice was teasing, but there was a hint of sincerity behind her words.
Anya groaned, covering her face with both hands as though she could physically block out her thoughts.
She really didn't want to think about it anymore.
She refused to overthink this. Atlas was just a regular customer, she repeated in her mind.
A very rich, very broody, absurdly tall customer.
That was all. No need for confusion, no need for complications.
She wasn't flustered. She wasn't curious.
She certainly wasn't worried about why he'd keep coming back.
But when she pulled her hands away from her face, Kaia was watching her with an all-knowing smirk, clearly amused at how easily Anya's composure was unravelling.
She sighed deeply, rolling her eyes. "Okay, fine. Maybe I'm a little flustered. But who wouldn't be? This guy is like... walking chaos in a suit."
Kaia burst out laughing, leaning against the counter. "Oh, Anya, you really like him, don't you?"
Anya blinked, startled by the bluntness of Kaia's words. "What? No! I—I don't even—"
She immediately regretted opening her mouth.
The more she tried to deny it, the more obvious it seemed.
How many times had she caught herself glancing at the door, waiting to see Atlas walk in?
And the way her heart fluttered when he did?
Yeah, it wasn't exactly subtle. The problem was that she didn't know what to do about it.
Her thoughts spiraled out of control again, and before she knew it, she was mentally listing off all the reasons this could be a terrible idea: Atlas was a billionaire CEO with a reputation for scaring people.
He didn't need any more problems in his life, especially not her.
She could barely keep her own life together, let alone deal with someone like him.
But even with all the rational arguments running through her head, there was that gnawing feeling deep down—one that refused to go away.
Maybe Kaia was right, and Anya just needed to admit it.
There was something about Atlas that intrigued her, something that made her want to learn more, even if she had no idea where it would lead.
Kaia's voice cut through her thoughts, softening with genuine concern. "Anya, you've been all over the place ever since yesterday. It's okay to admit you're a little bit... affected by him."
Anya groaned, trying to push back against the flood of emotions that had been steadily building inside her. "I am not affected," she said firmly, though even she didn't believe it.
Kaia just raised an eyebrow. "Sure, whatever you say."
Anya huffed and turned away from her friend, trying to get back to work.
She could ignore it. She could focus on the café, on her customers, and on making the perfect drink for the next person in line.
But the problem was that the thought of Atlas, with his stoic silence and his unexpected daily visits, kept creeping back into her mind.
She wasn't flustered. She wasn't curious.
She was just... a little intrigued. And maybe, just maybe, that was the most dangerous thing of all.
Ding.
The café door swung open, and like clockwork, Atlas stepped inside.
A quiet hush fell over the room, the soft murmur of voices and clinking cups pausing as people instinctively moved aside to clear the way.
It was as if the air itself shifted when he walked in—tall, imposing, and every bit the CEO.
His presence commanded attention, even if he didn't ask for it.
Anya, completely ignoring the subtle tension now in the café, grinned wide and waved at him like a ridiculous cartoon character.
"Atlas! Back again for your favorite totally-not-suspect coffee?"
Atlas sighed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, though the usual chill of his demeanor was still firmly in place.
He made his way to the counter, his movements measured and deliberate, his towering frame somehow making the space feel even smaller.
As he approached, Anya didn't even glance at the drink menu but started preparing his usual order without missing a beat. She had it memorized by now.
"So, how's my favorite silent vampire today?" she teased, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
Atlas raised an eyebrow right back, his lips curling into a barely-there smile as he signed, "I thought I wasn't a vampire."
"Well, you still haven't denied it, so the jury's out," Anya teased, rolling her eyes and pulling the espresso shot into his cup.
Her heart skipped a beat for a moment—not from attraction, she reassured herself, but from the sheer unpredictability of Atlas.
Every time he spoke, he threw her off-balance in a way she couldn't quite explain.
Atlas exhaled, his gaze never leaving her.
There was something about the way he watched her, calm and unwavering, as if he was studying her every move.
It wasn't in a creepy way, more like he was simply...
observing. She focused on making his coffee, trying not to be distracted by the unnerving intensity in his eyes.
As she added the final touches, she looked up to offer him the cup, her usual playful grin in place.
"Here you go. Your drink, just the way you like it. Still not sure how you drink this stuff, though."
Before Atlas could respond, Kaia's voice rang out from the kitchen, laced with frustration. "Hey, Anya!"
Anya's heart sank at the sound. She could already hear the disaster in Kaia's tone. "One of our baristas didn't show up. I need your help with the orders!"
Anya froze mid-pour, her hand shaking as she hovered over the cup.
This was fine. She could handle this. She had worked in the café by herself plenty of times.
But the pressure began to build, and when she turned to look at Kaia, it all clicked—the reality hit her like a ton of bricks.
This wasn't just a minor inconvenience. It was a full-on catastrophe.
Orders were already piling up, and Kaia wasn't just asking for her help—she needed her to take over.
Her mind scrambled for a solution, but before she could say anything, her gaze flicked back to Atlas.
He was watching her, his expression unreadable, but she could tell he'd picked up on her panic.
She tried to steady her breath, giving him a pointed look.
"Not. A. Word," she warned him, jabbing a finger in his direction, the tremor in her hand betraying her attempt at calm.
Atlas, as always, was completely unbothered. He raised both hands in mock surrender, the small amused smile on his lips widening. He wasn't going to make this any easier for her. She could already tell he was enjoying her discomfort.
With a dramatic sigh, Anya turned toward the coffee machines.
The orders were stacking up, the pressure mounting, and her thoughts were slipping further out of control with every passing second.
"Okay, this one needed—wait, what was it? Vanilla? No, caramel. Wait—no, that's not right either—" she mumbled to herself, her voice frantic.
The café was in chaos, the usual hum of background noise now tinged with the sound of anxious murmurs. People were watching her, waiting for their drinks, and all Anya could do was stare blankly at the coffee machines, feeling completely overwhelmed.
Atlas, meanwhile, hadn't moved from the counter, his eyes still locked on her as she floundered.
And then, as if he could no longer bear watching her struggle, he set his cup down with deliberate slowness.
His fingers grazed the surface of the counter, and before she could even comprehend what was happening, he was standing.
He walked around the counter like it was the most natural thing in the world, a cool calmness to his every step.
Anya's brain short-circuited. "Atlas. What. Are. You. Doing?" she asked, voice rising in disbelief as she stared at him, completely frozen.
Without a word, Atlas grabbed an apron from the hook on the wall and tied it around his waist. Anya's jaw went slack as she gaped at him, still trying to process what was happening. This wasn't real. Was it?
Kaia, who had been watching this all unfold from the kitchen, nearly choked on her own air. "You—YOU KNOW HOW TO MAKE COFFEE?" she gasped, stepping forward in shock.
Atlas didn't even look up as he shrugged, rolling up his sleeves.
His forearms flexed with the movement, and it was only then that Anya realized how effortlessly he'd slipped into the role of a barista.
He was more than just capable; he was terrifyingly good at it.
Faster than Anya had ever been, he moved through the motions of crafting the drinks—pouring milk, grinding beans, steaming the espresso with precise timing, and delivering each order as if he had done it a thousand times before.
Anya stood frozen, her mind racing in complete chaos.
She watched as Atlas worked with an ease that made it seem like he had been doing this for years.
The other patrons were starting to murmur among themselves, some even daring to whisper, "Is that really him? Atlas Valtieri?"
as though they couldn't believe their eyes.
Kaia was completely in awe, a grin spreading across her face. She leaned in closer to Anya, her voice barely audible but dripping with amusement. "I think he's kind of... enjoying this."
Anya couldn't look away. There he was, her quiet, enigmatic customer, the billionaire CEO, making coffee as though it was second nature to him.
And yet, in all the strange, surreal moments unfolding around her, the most bizarre part was that he was clearly having fun.
Despite his cold, unapproachable exterior, there was a subtle glint of amusement in his eyes.
This wasn't just about helping her; he was fully engaged in the experience, as if the whole thing was some kind of personal challenge for him.
She swallowed hard. "Atlas," she whispered once the rush had died down, pulling him aside when she could finally breathe again. "WHAT IS HAPPENING?"
Atlas didn't even glance at her as he signed, "You needed help."
"Yes, but—you—you're a CEO! A billionaire! You should be in some scary corporate meeting, not—" She waved her hand wildly at the café, the smell of fresh coffee still hanging thick in the air. "—THIS."
Atlas shrugged casually, completely unphased. "I'm on break."
Anya stared at him, utterly speechless. This man—this high-powered, untouchable figure—had just walked behind the counter, helped her run the café like it was no big deal, and acted like it was all part of his daily routine.
She had expected some cold, corporate excuse, some hollow reason for why he was helping her, but this?
This was just a guy on a break, doing what he saw fit. It rattled her.
The moment stretched on in silence between them, the tension thick in the air.
Anya's brain tried desperately to catch up, but it just couldn't keep up with him.
She was caught in a storm of confusion, caught in the realization that this man—this intimidating, stoic man—had just willingly stepped in to help her, without any ulterior motives, no big reason other than the fact that she needed it.
And that?
That was the most dangerous part of all.
She let out a small, incredulous laugh, more out of disbelief than anything else. "...Oh my God," she whispered, feeling the weight of it all crash down on her. "You're enjoying this."
Atlas, his focus still on his cup, didn't deny it.
Instead, he offered her a look—one that said everything.
The quiet amusement, the subtle challenge behind it.
The game had changed, and Anya realized, with a sinking feeling in her gut, that she had just walked straight into something much, much bigger than she had anticipated.