Maybe she was too tense, which is why Charlotte Miller completely missed the delicate leather pouch in Atlas Hallow’s hand, and didn’t notice the faint sweet scent lingering in the air.
Atlas, seemingly nonchalant, tossed the bag of pastries into the trash, and under the light, his half-shadowed face looked as grim and nacing as a demon from Inferno.
Charlotte still didn’t sense the danger; she hadn’t realized she was already caught in the whirlpool.
It wasn’t because she was careless or naively amusing, it’s just that n as inscrutable as Atlas had never appeared in her life.
Even soone as skilled in business as Ethan Baird had, for one reason or another, protected her well, allowing her to do what she loved. While playing with massive cash flows and becoming a successful female financier, she had little awareness in matters between n and won, or danger and safety.
In so things, she was top-notch because of her innate wisdom.
But in so things, she was so simplistic it gave people a headache, like matters between n and won.
The office door closed, and before Charlotte could react, the lock silently clicked into place, making her heart inexplicably tremble.
Why would even Atlas lock the door?
Could it be he’s just upset with her? To make her understand that her locking the door earlier was wrong?
But he clearly isn’t the kind of childish man who gets upset.
This entire floor was his domain, no one could co in without notice since the elevators were private. Even Daniel Parker would knock and seek permission before entering, so if he’s not upset, what’s the point of locking the door?
"Why are you locking the door?" Charlotte cautiously asked, always feeling sothing wasn’t right.
The man’s strong aura in the air surged more intensely, like a storm sweeping towards her, causing her to feel slightly dizzy. The stirred air was tumultuous and uncald, and Charlotte finally realized sothing wasn’t quite right.
"And why did you lock the door? I’ll give you one more chance, tell honestly and clearly. No one in this world can completely deceive ..." Atlas gripped Charlotte’s slender waist, pressing her against the door, his deep-set eyes roving over her face, then slowly locking onto her eyes, his intensely dark eyes dangerously scream-worthy.
"It’s nothing..." Charlotte didn’t know how to address this issue, originally it was nothing, but the way he put it made it seem like she had done sothing wrong.
"Do you still dare to say it’s nothing?" Atlas’s face darkened like a sky on the verge of a storm, and Charlotte saw her own paper-white face reflected in his eyes.
Atlas’s hand slowly moved upward from her waist to her shoulder, gripping her elegantly contoured shoulder and gradually increasing the pressure.
Charlotte’s wide, tearful eyes stared intently, her heart raced uncontrollably, the terror and fear gushing from her feet to her brain at breakneck speed, then exploding in the cerebral cortex, almost taking away her breath.
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