Heartbreak Me (Heartbreak Duet Book 1)

by T. L Smith

  “Oh no, not at all. I just have a lot on my plate, and the last thing I need is to be staying out all night drinking.” I smile and walk past him to the front. As I reach for the door, hands wrap around my arm, stopping me from going any farther. I’m about to scream and punch whoever touched me when I turn and see Atlas’s amber eyes, which freeze me into position.

  “Interesting finding you here.” His dark eyes don’t leave mine, and my pulse races at his touch.

  I try to pull free, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. People walking past look, but no one says a word.

  “Maybe you are a lot like your sister. After all, this was where I found her spending my money,” he says with venom in his tone.

  Licking my lips because they’re dry, his eyes drop to them and watch the movement. I can feel my cheeks heating at his glaring eyes.

  “Let go of my arm before I knee you between your legs.” I spit out his name, “Atlas.”

  He shows me his teeth, as if he’s going to bite me, then releases my arm. When he does, I take a step back so our bodies no longer touch.

  “Your sister did the opposite… she threw herself at me.” There’s a smirk, a pause, then he continues, “Where you want to maim me.”

  “If I could, I would never see your face again.” I smile as I say those words because they please me. Turning, now that I am free of his hold, I walk out of the club and wave down a cab. Atlas follows me outside and stands next to me, his team of security, or whatever the hell they are, all stand back. I didn’t even notice they were there with him when he had his hands on me.

  “Are you following me?” I swing my head around to look at him. His hands are in the pockets of his black trousers.

  “No, you’re in one of my establishments. Coincidence only.”

  “Yeah, sure… if you want to call it that.” My words are clipped, and I am angry.

  “You have a mouth on you, that’s for sure. The last woman who spoke to me that way ended up with my cock in her mouth to shut her up,” he declares smugly.

  I gasp, my cheeks reddening at the thought. “That will never happen. You will never happen.” I shiver at the thought, showing my disgust outwardly.

  “You try to be a good liar, but you suck at it. Bad.” His voice turns smooth, and I have to look away or he will know I am just that, a liar. Even if there are some parts of me that are disgusted by him. Actually, no, a lot of me is disgusted by him, but I still think he is incredibly attractive. I am not blind to his outward charm.

  “I feel like you wouldn’t really be able to recognize a liar from someone telling the truth. Everyone in your circle probably lies to you anyway, or maybe they just tell you what you want to hear.” The cab pulls up, and I open the door, looking back to him. “Goodnight, Atlas, enjoy your evening.” I climb in and try not to look back as the driver drives off. My cell dings, and I pull it out to read the message.

  Unknown: Only someone with a death wish lies to me. Would you be so stupid?

  I save his number and choose not to reply. I feel like Atlas is a man who’s used to getting what he wants, and he simply doesn’t care who he hurts to achieve his goals.

  I am not that person.

  I choose to not be his new plaything.

  Chapter Seven

  Theadora

  His secretary is at my door again, this time with another new dress. This is twice this week. Will I be doing the same thing? I feel even if I ask the question, I won’t get the answer from her anyway. Her whole face seems to be in a permanent scowl.

  “He told me to tell you to be ready by eight. Atlas said that should be plenty of time from now. You’re to wear the heels you had on last night…” she pushes the dress bag into my hands, “… with this.”

  “Umm… okay. Anything else?”

  “Your sister is a cunt! Thought you should know that,” she asserts with a scowl and slight drop of her head.

  My eyes go wide at her words. “You’ve seen her. She’s okay?”

  “He told you she was okay, so, of course, she is.”

  “Yes, but I haven’t seen proof. Am I just meant to take the word of a man who is blackmailing me?” I ask, pointing out the damn obvious.

  “He could have killed you. It’s been done before. So, yes, you should take the word from a man who’s looking after your sister instead of killing the both of you.” She turns and walks out my door.

  I follow and stand on the step. “You don’t like me. Why?” I question her.

  She looks up over her glasses. “Because you hold a power I don’t possess.” Then she climbs in her car, slams the door, and drives off the same as last time.

  Going inside, with the dress still in hand, I notice this one reads, Saint Laurent. Fucking hell! Why does he keep sending me expensive dresses to wear? I am not keeping this one, no fucking way. Upon opening the zipper, I see the bright pink foil-looking dress. This one is short, cute but very short. It has a one-shoulder neckline and a shimmering look about it.

  In a word or two—it’s fucking beautiful.

  And the same price tag as the last one.

  Sliding it on, I start to get ready. This time I actually take longer than fifteen minutes, since I have more time. I curl my hair and loosely pile it on top of my head, securing it with bobby pins. Then grabbing my black heels I had on last night, I put them on, then finish my makeup. I take my time adding a bright pink lip-gloss to match the dress, and shimmery pink and smoky eyelids.

  Fifteen minutes to eight, I hear a knock on my door. Is he early? Grabbing my purse, I go to open the door, and as I do, another knock comes. Pulling it open, Atlas is standing there, hand raised as he looks at me.

  “You assumed I would be late?” I ask him, my hand going to my hip.

  Devilish eyes assess me. “No. You do not disappoint.” He turns, walks to the car, and holds open the door for me.

  “What am I to be doing tonight? Flirting with the round man again?” I question with an eye roll.

  “Round man?”

  “Yes. He is round and loud,” I reply while sliding into the car.

  “Mr. London is…” He thinks on it while sliding in after me, then he fixes his suit jacket, which is much the same as the last time. “I guess, yes, he is round,” he states with a head nod. “But, no, tonight you will observe and listen for me. Don’t speak to anyone, do not tell anyone who you are with or your name. Do you understand?”

  I nod at his request.

  “I need to hear you say it, Theadora. Speak that you understand. It’s paramount that you do. These men are dangerous.”

  “I’m in a car with one, am I not?” I say, referring to someone who’s fucking dangerous.

  “Touché. Now, tell me you understand. That you will be quiet and not speak. Just listen.”

  “What am I listening for exactly?”

  “If you hear my name or my casino’s name, that’s what you should be listening out for.”

  “Okay, I think I can do that.”

  “Think?” He raises an eyebrow.

  “I can do that.” I nod. “Is this the stuff you had Lucy doing?” I brave a question in the hopes he will answer.

  “You want to discuss your sister?” he asks, to which I nod my head eagerly.

  “That can be arranged once you pay off her debt.”

  The car comes to a stop and Atlas opens his door.

  “The car will take you around the block one more time. Your name will be at the door for entry.”

  “I can’t come in with you?” I ask.

  “No. Now you know what you are to do?”

  “Listen,” I say.

  “Yes. Listen and don’t talk to anyone, Theadora.”

  “How much will this knock off? I calculated the other night I have worked, and you said it was over a million. So how much does tonight equate to?” I ask, hoping for some kind of answer.

  “We will discuss upon your completion tonight.”

  I nod.

  Atlas shuts the door,
and the car takes off around the block. I check my cell purely out of nervousness and put it straight back in my purse. When we reach the front again, I climb out and walk the steps until I arrive at the person who’s holding an iPad checking names. Giving them my name, they smile, then let me inside.

  I enter by myself, while almost everyone else in here is standing with someone or holding someone’s hand.

  “Can I get you a drink?”

  I smile and shake my head, and the waiter walks away. Walking around, I spot Atlas straight away. He isn’t hard to miss. I think almost every woman here has ogled him at some point. Even the wife whose husband Atlas is talking with is looking at him as if he’s her next meal, even as she stands there holding her husband’s arm.

  I look away from his perfectly crafted hair and nose ring that makes him look even more appealing. Reaching in my bag for my AirPods, I place them in my ears with my phone in hand and walk to a small empty table situated behind a few guys who are bundled around another table talking.

  “Yes, I know what you mean, but explain it again,” I say to my phone with my AirPods in my ears as I feel eyes on me. Of course, I have loosely placed the AirPods so I can still hear everything being said. Most people will go about their conversations if they think you’re preoccupied.

  Which is exactly what they do.

  “He came alone,” one man says.

  “He’s never alone. Don’t fool yourself. He didn’t get where he is at his age being foolish. Now go and introduce yourself before he moves to the next, and take that piece of ass with you, so she can pry her way into his bed.”

  I look to my side and see one man walk away with a woman attached to his arm. Not too far in front of them is Atlas. He’s holding a drink in hand while he nods his head to what someone’s saying. I watch as the man with the woman walks up to him, then watch in fascination as the woman does exactly what she was asked to do, stands next to Atlas and turns on her charm.

  Is she like me? Being blackmailed into doing things we don’t want to? It’s the only explanation I can give myself for why this woman is listening to men to sell herself to.

  Atlas’s eyes flick to me, and my cell buzzes in my hand.

  Atlas: What did you hear?

  His name comes up as I read the message. Looking away from him, I type out my reply and watch as he reads it.

  Me: She’s to find a way to sleep with you.

  His lips move as if he’s fighting a smirk while he glances at the man who’s in front of him. The man laughs at something Atlas says, but Atlas makes no movement to indicate he cares for what this man has to say. Atlas places an arm around the woman, leans down and whispers in her ear, and while he does, his eyes search for mine, locking on as he whispers to her, then looks away. My breath, which I didn’t realize I was holding, escapes, and I make a move to the bar. The waiter comes over, and I order a glass of champagne—one glass can’t hurt, and I really need it right now to calm my nerves.

  Turning around with the glass in hand, I almost spill it as I bump into Atlas, who’s there in front of me. He takes the glass from my hand and walks back to where he was previously standing.

  What the actual fuck?

  “Well, didn’t see that one coming,” a voice comes from next to me.

  Turning, I come face to face with a man who’s dressed to kill. He looks good, really good. The man almost rivals Atlas with his looks, but there’s something about Atlas that makes him stand out from the rest.

  The man picks up a handful of peanuts and throws one into his mouth, closing his lips to chew. He has full lips and high cheekbones. His light-colored hair is a contrast to his tanned skin and playful smile. He almost looks like he’s walked out of a surfing competition and threw on a suit.

  Choosing to ignore him, I turn around and order a water instead. This time when I turn around, no one is there to take it from me.

  Fuck! I really do need a drink now.

  “So, you’re his new plaything.” Turning back to that voice, another peanut is popped into his mouth. He throws the next one high in the air and catches it. When I don’t answer, he smirks. “My guess is he told you not to talk. Smart move.” He nods, then looks at where Atlas is standing. I follow his line of sight and watch as Atlas walks away with that woman, his hand on her hip as they disappear out of sight.

  I look to the stranger who seems to know more than he should, and offer him a smile before I place my water down and go to where I saw Atlas leave.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” I look back, and the stranger smiles. “Name’s Benji, sweetheart.” I don’t give him my name. Instead, I simply offer a small smile before I continue to follow Atlas.

  As I reach the door I saw him walk out of, I push it just a fraction and freeze as I hear sounds, very familiar sounds.

  Grunts and groans of pleasure.

  Pushing the door just a little bit farther, I see him, his back against the wall with that woman down on her knees as she strokes his cock with her hand, her red lips wrapped around the top.

  I should walk away.

  I should back away slowly, so he doesn’t know what I’ve just seen, but as I look up, I see him smirking as if he knew I would follow.

  My eyes go wide as the girl tries to take more of him in her mouth, but she can’t because he’s so big.

  My eyes flick back up to him, and his hand is now in her hair, gripping it as he shows her exactly what to do—what he likes.

  As he closes his eyes, enjoying the moment, I back away, letting the door close.

  And I wonder if I run, will he catch me?

  Chapter Eight

  Atlas

  I get off when people think they can fuck with me, that they can have what’s mine, and try to take it from my greedy hands.

  That, of course, is impossible and will never happen.

  Once I lay claim to something, I do not let it go. It’s why I have not taken a woman longer than a few nights. I would swallow a woman whole, and she wouldn’t be able to escape me. That’s what type of love mine would be—all-encompassing—and I know this, so I stay away.

  The girl between my legs comes up for air, licks her pink lips, and tries to lift my shirt.

  That is not going to happen.

  Pushing her hands away, I tuck myself back into my pants and straighten my suit.

  She gets off her knees and pulls her dress down. “You don’t want to fuck? We could go back to yours and do what you want… all night,” she sing-songs the last two words.

  “No. Go back to Harry and tell him your services have been fulfilled.”

  Her face drops, and she looks down at the floor.

  “It’s not like that,” she says.

  “It is. And sweetheart? You can do better.” I give her my card and walk out the door, the same one Theadora slipped out of. She’s easy to spot, standing out like a rose in the middle of thorns. In her hand is a glass of water, and I want to smile that she listened to me.

  “My man.” Someone taps on my back.

  I turn to see Benji and shrug him off, to which he offers me a smile.

  “She’s a looker, that one. You pick her?” His eyes find Theadora and then switch back to me. “What am I saying… of course you did. You would have had her under watch for at least a few weeks.” He pins me with his eyes. “Or shorter maybe, considering how controlling of her you are already.”

  “She’s a pawn in a game. Nothing more.”

  “I’m sure she is. So you wouldn’t mind if I went over there and introduced myself, would you?” Benji straightens his tie and smirks.

  “Do as you please,” I say through gritted teeth, looking away from her.

  Benji eyes me before he nods. “Okay then,” he states before he takes off in Theadora’s direction. She offers him a smile when he sits next to her, and I watch while Benji talks to her. She doesn’t speak back, only nods and looks around the room.

  “Do you want me to break that up?” Garry asks, standing besid
e me, nodding toward Benji.

  “No. Let’s see how loyal she is in helping her sister.”

  “She can’t do her job from over there,” he says, pointing out the obvious.

  I turn to him.

  He looks down. “Sorry, sir.” And he backs away.

  “You told my gift she can do better?” Harry questions me while shaking his head. Normal people would be afraid of Harry. Lucky for me, I am not normal.

  I was raised by one of the most ruthless men, who made no excuses for his actions, and if you stepped out of line you were beaten into submission.

  My father was a criminal in almost every aspect. My mother ran away when I was a year old, and I have no memory of her. But him? Him I can never escape, even if he is behind bars for the rest of his life. Being raised by that man made me stronger, made me learn from his mistakes, and made me realize I will never be like him.

  My hands don’t touch women unless in the throes of pleasure, and believe me, my hands around Theodora’s throat tested my every resolve. I want to fuck her hard and grip her sweet, soft neck when I do.

  I have rules, though. And I feel she may break every single one of them if I let her close.

  Do not fall in love.

  Never let women dictate who you are. They will bring you down and crush you while taking your money.

  Business above all else.

  My gun doesn’t aim unless you betray me.

  And I’m really hoping Theadora doesn’t betray me. Because a bullet in that perfect head could really mess up that gorgeous hair. And we wouldn’t want that now, would we.

  Turning back to Harry, I can see he’s angry. He runs one of the most expensive and exclusive whorehouses in town. The asshole sells his women for a few hours and only gives them a fraction of what he makes.

  So yes, she can do better.

  Much, much better than Harry’s whorehouse.

  “You think you are so much better than us, don’t you? Why? Because you own that casino?” he huffs.