Page 77 of Owned

The flash of defensive anger on Atlas’s behalf swept through me once again, burying the shock. “I don’t care what he did in the past. I only told you he was being possessive and controlling to convince you to meet with me.”

“So he’s a pussycat then, hmm?” There was a whole world of skepticism in her expression. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Of course he’s not a pussycat,” I snapped. “He’s possessive and he likes control, yes, but he’s nothing like his father. He’d never hurt me and he’d never hurt this child. He’s a good man.”

Charlotte’s gaze dropped to where my hand had settled over my stomach. “I shouldn’t,” she murmured, half to herself. “I’ll regret it.”

“You’ll regret what?”

She sighed and leaned back in her seat again, considering me. “I want access to my great grandchild,” she said. “Whenever I want it.”

It took me a moment to understand what she’d actually said. And then, when it finally penetrated, the relief that gripped me was so intense I felt dizzy.

“So…you won’t want the baby?”

“You can raise the child,” she said and I didn’t miss the emphasis on you. “But if you have any issues with Atlas Blackwood, I want you to call me immediately.” Her gaze intensified. “I will help you, Rowan.”

I swallowed, the relief flooding through me like drug. “Okay, thank you.”

“I mean it,” Charlotte said, all business. “Now, I still want confirmation of your pregnancy so we’ll be going to the clinic. Then I’ll return you to the loft.”

I couldn’t believe I’d done it, that I’d managed to convince her to let Atlas and I keep our baby. I’d done that, poor powerless Rowan. A billionaire’s fuck toy and a Hamilton pawn.

“No.” I smiled and settled back against the seat. “I’m not going back to the loft. You can take me to Arcadia.”

28

Atlas

I got the call from my security team just as I was on the point of coming home after work. Apparently Rowan had walked out of the loft and gotten into a limo, which had then driven off. After I’d fired the lot of them for their uselessness, I went straight home in the vain hope that she’d have returned.

But she wasn’t there. I searched the entire loft, and it was only when I realized her phone was sitting on the coffee table in front of the sofa, her purse on the floor beside it, that the creeping dread finally got me in a chokehold.

I tore my phone from my pocket and hit Charlotte’s number, because of course she had to be the reason Rowan was gone.

“Where is she?” I demanded as soon as she answered, not bothering to hide the rage in my voice.

“I’ve just delivered her to Arcadia,” Charlotte said calmly. “I believe you and she have a meeting there tonight?”

“What the hell did you?—”

“She’ll tell you the whole story. Don’t worry, dear, you’re off the hook, but I’m afraid your little secret concerning the murder of Sir George and also the collapse of Blackwood Bank is out. I told her what kind of man you are, Atlas Blackwood. The same as your friend Tennyson.” Her voice was cold, her tone hard. “I’m going to leave it up to her whether she wants to stay with a man like you, bring her child up with a man like you. But she knows where to come if she decides otherwise. She’s safer with me than you.”

Fury was a hot coal in my chest, but I didn’t bother replying. I ended the call, then strode out of the loft to make my way to Arcadia.

When I got there, Andre, the front door guy, showed me to the back room through the bar, where the virginity auctions and other performances were usually held. The room was small and curtained off from the rest of the bar, and it contained a small dais that had been moved to the middle of the room, with chairs arranged around it. So people could see from every angle.

Rowan was already there, pale and lovely in her blue dress, standing with Caleb as he pointed out various things. Both of them looked at me as I strode in, Rowan expression hardening as she caught a glimpse of my expression. Caleb’s posture changed too, as he caught the same thing.

“I need to speak to Rowan alone,” I said roughly, barely keeping my fury in check.

Caleb glanced first at Rowan then at me. “She hasn’t quite made her mind up at this, Atlas,” he warned. “Be careful where you take it.”

AKA don’t force her into anything she didn’t want.

As if I would, the prick. “I’m always fucking careful,” I growled as he went past me, heading for the door.

“You have ten minutes,” he replied before sauntering out, closing the curtains to give us some privacy.

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