CHAPTER 92: NEED HELP?

"I’ll go with you today."

Those were the last words Lola wanted to hear from Atlas. After her mind had played tricks on her because of this man, she wanted some space. But despite the brief push and pull, here she was, sitting shotgun in his car.

She glanced at him. "You really didn’t have to."

Atlas didn’t respond, his eyes on the road. One hand was on the steering wheel, the other elbow resting on the window.

"Sleep on the way," he said after a moment of silence. "You look like you didn’t get a good night’s sleep."

"I did," she replied, but intuitively checked herself in the side mirror. "I look fine."

Again, he didn’t respond.

A defeated sigh escaped her, and she leaned back in her seat. "How can you let your kids take over your job even for a day?" she muttered, her eyes on the window. "Aren’t you afraid someone will report you to child services?"

"It wouldn’t be the first time."

Her brow rose, and she gave him a side-eye. "You’ve been reported before?"

"By my parents."

Her face twitched at his answer. She wondered if he was kidding, but she quickly dismissed the thought. If she, a stranger, had been tempted to call child services a few times, she wasn’t surprised his parents had. Lola opened her mouth to say something, but stopped herself.

"Chacha and Second grew up in an environment that is different from most children," his calm voice broke the silence. "I trust them more in my company than I do Harvey."

"Of course, you do," she blurted out sarcastically. "Well, I guess they are indeed special. They make Silo cry."

She hadn’t met anyone at that tender age who understood legal papers until she met the twins. They were amazing, that was for sure. And whatever this man had done to them, she probably didn’t want to know. It was better to think his genius mind was simply passed on to his children.

"Now that I think about it..." she trailed off, biting her tongue.

Atlas glanced at her. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Just say it."

"I’m just thinking..." she pointed at the backseat, where a fish head mask and a few others were placed. "What’s that for?"

"Disguise."

Lola snorted. "You call that a disguise?"

"Is it not?"

"It’s not..." she paused, staring at his side profile.

Even his side profile was great. While he wasn’t as popular as his younger brother, Slater, his face was recognized by most businessmen. But even without that knowledge, that face of his...

"Yes, it’s a good disguise, actually," she changed her answer. "That fish mask will garner attention, but not the same kind as your face would without it."

His mouth curled up. "Thank you."

"Why are you thanking me?" she gasped, her mouth dropping as realization hit her. "I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not saying you’re handsome or something—"

She choked when he raised a brow at her.

"Fine," she conceded, raising her hands. "Your face... it’s not bad."

Lola pinched the bridge of her nose, realizing she was slowly growing comfortable again.

How can this guy make me uncomfortable and give me this sense of comfort at the same time?

No wonder she was so messed up. She snapped her eyes at him with a bitter look. He was just too confusing, and not in a simple way—this was complicated.

"So, where are we headed?" he asked. When he didn’t get a reply, he shot her a quick look.

All he saw was the subtle smile on her face.

"I’m selling a few of my properties." A knowing, almost mischievous, look crossed her face. "And on top of that, I’m going to play."

"Don’t judge," she added.

He didn’t answer, studying her from the corner of his eye. When he looked back at the road, the corners of his mouth curled into an intrigued smirk.

Soon, the two of them pulled up at a country club, their formal business attire surely not fitting the place. However, neither Atlas nor Lola seemed bothered as they hopped out of the car. The second they did, she stopped and glanced at him.

"By the way, aren’t you going to wear that grand disguise?" She asked, pointing to the backseat where a collection of his head masks rested.

He shot her a look. "I want to watch, and the mesh in the eye holes bothers me."

There was no change in his cold, toneless voice, but his words were enough to make her smile subtly.

With that, they walked away from the parking space toward the entrance. As they reached the entrance, their arms brushed against each other.

They headed to a private lounge where she was supposed to meet Lawrence Young. On their way, her phone kept vibrating.

"Ah, wait," she paused, taking out her phone. Atlas nodded, watching her check the caller before answering.

"Yes, Amala?" Lola raised an eyebrow, the slight smile on her face fading. "What did you say?"

The change in her expression made him tilt his head, intrigued by what the caller was telling her.

"Thanks, Amala." She balled her hands into tight fists, her eyes sharp. "Yes, I’m already here. It’s alright, don’t bother."

After briefly reassuring Amala, Lola huffed sharply. "He really—" she bit her tongue, remembering who she was with.

"Is everything alright?" Atlas asked, his head tilted.

Lola bit her inner lip, tempted to say "Everything was fine," but she couldn’t. How could she, when she had just heard about Lawrence’s wicked plans?

"Need help?"

His offer made her raise her brows, her eyes widening a little as an idea crossed her mind. Slowly, the corners of her mouth hooked up, and she took a step closer to him.

"Will you help me?" she asked, tilting her head to the side and fluttering her naturally thick lashes. Her expression, despite her beautiful features, gave him a glimpse of a mischievous merchant scammer.

It reminded him of how his twins smiled.

He smirked. "Say less."