Atlas woke early. Dawn light barely touched the windows.
Noah was still asleep beside him—face pressed into the pillow, one arm flung above his head.
Atlas watched him for a moment. Then looked at Sunny and Luna curled at the foot of the bed.
He slipped out carefully. Pulled on a sweatshirt. Left the room.
Grabbed his coat from the hook. Went outside.
---
The air was sharp. Cold enough to bite. The estate's grounds stretched out—still half-dark, trees outlined against the lightening sky.
Atlas started walking.
Today's meeting. What will Richard say? What have he and Thomas planned together?
He walked faster. Studied the landscaping without really seeing it. Hedges trimmed to perfection. Stone pathways. Everything deliberate.
A few staff members appeared—early shift starting. They nodded.
"Sir."
Atlas acknowledged them with a slight nod. Kept walking.
He changed direction. Headed toward the pool area—the large one outside their bedroom wing.
When he reached it, he sat in one of the chairs facing their window. Stared at the still water for a while. Then looked up.
Through the glass, he could see Noah. Still sleeping.
I'm stuck. Completely stuck.
He knew he wouldn't back down. That much was certain.
"But what will they do?" he asked quietly. To no one.
---
Inside, Sunny lifted his head. Saw Atlas through the window.
Scrambled off the bed. Ran out.
A minute later, he appeared outside. Trotted over. Rested his head on Atlas's knee.
Met his eyes.
Atlas scratched behind his ears. "At least you don't deal with this shit."
Sunny huffed. Tail wagged once.
Atlas stood. "Come on."
They walked back to the house together.
---
In the bedroom, Noah was still asleep.
Atlas showered. Started getting dressed—suit pants, dress shirt, still buttoning it when he felt eyes on him.
Noah was awake. Watching from the bed.
Atlas smiled. "Morning."
"Morning." Noah's voice was rough with sleep.
He got up. Crossed to Atlas. Kissed his cheek.
Atlas pulled him in. Held him. "Let's just stay like this."
Noah's body tensed slightly in his arms. Then relaxed.
"Whatever you decide today," Noah said slowly, "I'll support you."
Atlas looked down at him. His arms tightened. "What do you mean?"
"I'll respect whatever decision you make."
"About what? Everything?"
Noah pulled back just enough to see his face. Took a breath through his nose. "Yes."
Atlas stepped back. Put space between them. "So you're giving up. On us."
"No—" Noah's eyes went wide. "I'm not giving up. I just don't want you to suffer because of me—"
"Because of you?" Atlas's voice sharpened. He saw the hurt flash across Noah's face. "I don't want you getting hurt—"
Noah's hands clenched at his sides. "Let's not talk about this right now." Atlas turned away. Jaw tight. Continued dressing.
Noah moved to him. Wrapped his arms around him from behind. "I love you."
Atlas didn't answer. Just put his hand over Noah's on his chest.
"I need to leave early," he said after a moment.
Noah looked at him. Atlas grabbed his jacket without meeting his eyes. Left the room.
---
Noah stood alone. Watched the door Atlas had just walked through.
Why did I say that? Why did I say it like that?
He pressed his palms to his eyes. "Idiot."
He showered. Stood under scalding water. Thought about yesterday—his father's words, the threats, the manipulation.
Then Atlas came into his mind. The look on his face just now.
His chest tightened.
He switched to cold water. Gasped. Let it clear his head.
---
Got dressed. Left the house. Drove to the office.
The whole drive, he thought about Atlas. About the meeting Atlas was walking into. Richard and his father—what would they threaten him with?
He picked up his phone. Started typing a message.
I'm sorry about this morning. I—
Deleted it.
Set the phone in the passenger seat.
---
At the office, he greeted the team. Answered emails. His responses were shorter than usual. Distracted.
Team meeting. He tried to focus. Mostly failed.
His mind kept circling back. Atlas. The meeting. What will they make him believe?
Lunch. Most of the team went out. Noah stayed. Made coffee in the break room.
Sienna came in. "Want to drink these on the terrace?"
"Sure."
They went up. The terrace was cold. Windy. They stood by the railing, hands wrapped around their cups.
Silence for a while.
"How are you?" Sienna asked finally.
Noah looked at her. "I don't know."
"Still thinking about your dad?"
Noah paused. Stared at his coffee. "Atlas. I'm thinking about Atlas."
Sienna turned to face him fully. "What's wrong?"
"I don't want his life to fall apart because of me."
"Did you tell him that?"
Noah nodded. "This morning."
Sienna took a breath. "And?"
"He got angry. Left early."
Sienna was quiet for a moment. Wind whipped across the terrace. "You know what it sounded like to him, right?"
Noah's throat tightened. "Like I was giving up."
"Like you were giving him permission to choose them over you." Sienna's voice was gentle but direct. "That's not what you meant. But that's what he heard."
Noah closed his eyes. "I know. I know that now."
Sienna's hand went to his back. "You'll talk tonight. It'll be okay."
"I hope so."
---
They went back inside. Had a planning meeting for next week's deliverables.
Noah kept checking his watch.
Sienna noticed. "Atlas can handle them. Relax."
Noah nodded slightly. Tried to focus on work.
But his phone sat face-up on the desk. Screen dark.
No messages.
---
Meanwhile - Atlas
When the meeting ended, Richard and Thomas left first.
Atlas watched them go. Collected his things. Exchanged brief words with a few board members. Left.
His phone buzzed.
Father: My office. Now.
Atlas stared at the message. Got on the elevator. Management floor.
---
The bathroom was empty. He turned on the tap. Cold water. Splashed his face. Gripped the edge of the sink.
Met his own eyes in the mirror.
"You're ready," he said.
---
He knocked once. Entered.
Thomas and Richard sat in the armchairs—the expensive ones, Italian leather, positioned deliberately to face the door.
Richard looked at him. Gestured to the empty chair across from them. "Sit."
Atlas crossed the room. Movements controlled. Expressionless. Sat.
Thomas didn't look at him. Examined his cufflinks instead.
Atlas studied them both. Richard studied him back.
"It's time to end this," Richard said. Calm. Cold.
Atlas didn't break eye contact. "End what?"
Richard's face was blank. "The nonsense you're living."
"Why does it bother you so much?"
Thomas glanced at him briefly. Looked away.
"You represent this family," Richard said. "Everything you do concerns me."
Atlas leaned back. Looked at Thomas. Then his father. "Am I doing something that embarrasses you?"
Richard removed his glasses. Set them on the mahogany side table with precision. "If your relationship becomes public, have you considered how it affects this company? Our family's standing?"
"Why would my private life affect either?"
Thomas turned his head. Met Atlas's eyes. Expression completely empty.
"Do you think people hide their relationships for no reason?" Richard asked.
Atlas looked at the table. Persian rug beneath it, probably older than he was. "I'm not doing anything shameful. Nothing that requires hiding."
Thomas spoke for the first time. "Your relationship with Noah—or whatever you call it—I have no objection to it. But it stays private."
Atlas turned to him. "What exactly do you want?"
Richard picked up his glasses. Put them back on with deliberate care. "What you do with each other doesn't concern us. But both of you will maintain appropriate public relationships. You'll attend events together. Social media. Society pages. PR will handle the details." He glanced at Thomas. Then back to Atlas. "And you'll continue your relationship. Discreetly."
A faint, bitter smile touched Atlas's mouth. Gone almost immediately. "And you'll choose who we're paired with."
Richard's tone didn't shift. "We're established families. We don't make arrangements with people from lower classes to hide identities. Like new money does. You know this."
"And after we do this?" Atlas's voice was flat. "Marriage?"
"Yes." Richard's answer came without hesitation. "For the continuation of the name. It's necessary."
Atlas pressed his fingers to his forehead. "How long?"
"As long as required," Thomas said. No inflection whatsoever.
Atlas stood. Walked to the window. Looked out at the city—buildings, traffic, people who didn't live in this world.
Turned back. "Let's say you've already found suitable people for Noah and me. How do you convince them? How do you ensure it stays hidden?"
Thomas and Richard exchanged a look. The kind of look that meant they'd already discussed this. At length.
"That's the easy part," Richard said. Completely relaxed.
Atlas moved toward his chair. Didn't sit. Leaned against it instead. "I'm asking to be certain." He took a breath. "You've arranged everything. The people. The details. You just need Noah and me to agree."
Richard stared at him directly. Said nothing.
"You've arranged every detail," Atlas repeated. Looking at both of them. Face expressionless.
Silence settled. The kind that filled old money rooms—heavy, intentional.
"Is it only about protecting the companies?" Atlas asked finally.
"You'll be discussed everywhere," Thomas said. Emotionless. "It affects the businesses. Everyone we work with."
"Noah doesn't use your name. He built his own company. How does that affect you?"
"Noah will take over after me."
Atlas stared at him. Empty eyes.
He sat down. Leaned back. "Let's discuss what happens if we refuse."
Thomas and Richard looked at him simultaneously.
Richard stood. Moved to the chair next to Atlas. Sat. Close enough to make his point.
"I've always done what's best for this family. For you. And I'll continue to do so." He looked at Atlas. "This family gave you everything. The best of everything. You owe us."
Atlas exhaled through his nose. "I've worked hard to be what you wanted." Pause. Looked at the floor. "You've never appreciated it. Never enough."
"You're where you are because of me. Don't forget that." Richard's voice stayed level. He stood. "The meeting is over." Looked at Atlas. "Think about it. We'll talk."
He walked to his desk.
Atlas stood. Looked at both of them.
Neither looked back.
He left. Closed the door quietly behind him.
---
Atlas walked quickly to the elevator. Got on. Went to his office.
Pulled whiskey from the cabinet. Poured. Drank. Poured again. Drank again. One more time.
Sat in his chair. Checked his phone. Missed calls. Messages.
Nothing from Noah.
He threw the phone onto the desk.
Leaned his head back. Closed his eyes.
After a moment, he grabbed his jacket. Left.
---
In his car, Atlas pushed the seat back. Closed his eyes.
"What's the cost if we refuse?" he asked the empty car.
His mind supplied an answer immediately. An image.
Noah. At some event. Holding hands with a woman. Smiling for cameras. Society pages.
Atlas ripped off his tie. Threw it on the passenger seat. Unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt.
His hands gripped the steering wheel. Hard.
"Fuck," he said out loud.
He tried to erase the image. Noah's hand in someone else's. Noah pretending. Noah lying.
"He'd never accept it," Atlas said. Said it again. "He'd never."
Started the car.
Drove out of the parking garage.