Atlas didn’t need to turn around. Her reaction confirmed everything. Her eyes flicked back and forth between Atlas and the man who had finally stolen everything from him. Oliver had been chosen over him, again. Zoey’s true father. Jasmine had thought he was Oliver all along. She’d wanted the parent of her child. And Atlas had played right into her hands. None of it was real between them. Anger rose—his only protection.
“I think you’ve already met my brother, Oliver.” His voice was like steel.
Jasmine stepped backwards as if the truth had been a physical blow. Fear flashed in her eyes. She reached out to Atlas, but he jerked away, grasping her wrists.
“Atlas?” she pleaded.
Oliver chuckled, oblivious to the earthquake shaking Atlas’s world off its axis. “I see why you didn’t hurry back home. She’s hot. But sleeping with the new inn owner won’t get her to sell this place to you. Give it up already.”
Jasmine backed up as if she’d been slapped. He got a tiny bit of satisfaction from that. Now you know what it’s like to feel used.
“What? That’s why you were here?” She ran a hand over her forehead. “That’s why you kept asking about the inn and money.” She whipped her attention back to him, eyes blurring with tears. “I trusted you. You betrayed me.”
“Guess you know how it feels,” he snapped.
“You look familiar. Have we met before?” Oliver asked, stepping closer to Jasmine.
Her green eyes searched Atlas’s face, the unspoken plea flashing. Please don’t tell him about Zoey. He gave nothing away in his expression. She’d used him, and what was the most vile, she’d made him fall for her. Then she’d ripped his heart out, committing the worst possible sin. It had been Oliver she was hoping for all along. Her gaze dropped, shoulders slumped as she wrapped her arms around herself. She looked so fragile and broken. A part of him wanted to comfort her—hold her and tell her it was all going to be okay. And that made him even more angry. She still held power over him.
Atlas turned his anger towards Oliver. “You cheated on Christina.”
Recognition flashed in Oliver’s eyes as he flicked his eyes back over to Jasmine. “That’s right.” His eyes raked over Jasmine’s body.
Atlas clenched his fist, grinding his teeth until his jaw screamed in pain.
“That’s why you look so familiar. Wait—that old lady wouldn’t sell to me because of you? You’re the one she turned my offer down for?”
Jasmine winced. Hurt was written across the curves of her face. Pain shone in her green eyes. Atlas stepped into Oliver’s space, shoving his chest against his brother’s.
“Hey!”
“Does Christina know?” Atlas demanded.
“I mean, a man has needs, Atlas. Surely you know that. You fuck anything that moves and never more than once.”
“I’m not the one who’s married.” He slammed his hand against Oliver’s shoulder.
Oliver held up his hands. “I was drunk. She came on to me.”
Atlas turned to Jasmine. “Is that true?”
She turned her face to the floor. “I didn’t know he was married.” Her voice was so small. Another spear through his shredded heart.
“Good to know you have some standards,” Atlas deadpanned.
She squeezed her arms tighter; tears dripped down her cheeks.
Every part of him ached, screaming at him, pulling him in different directions. His heart told him to wrap her in his arms and hear her out. But his mind kept flashing back to what her ex and those women had said in the restaurant. Had the whole town been laughing at him? Had those women actually tried to warn him?
He pushed Oliver aside and rushed upstairs to his room. After tearing out his suitcase, he started packing.
“Atlas?” Jasmine’s voice cracked.
He wouldn’t turn around and look at her. “Get out.”
“Let me explain? Please?” she begged, and something cracked inside him.
He spun around, grabbing her shoulders. Her eyes widened, fear flashing as she winced.
“Why? So you can tell me more of your goddamned lies? So you can manipulate me some more?”
She shook her head, fat tears glistening over her face. Her expression hardened. “You can’t handle my truths! No one can. You wanna know why I didn’t tell you when you first got here? You were a stranger. I had to make sure my daughter would be safe. I understand better than anyone that someone who is supposed to be a father can hurt you in ways no human would want to imagine. So no, I didn’t think just because I thought you were her father, you had a right to know.”
The only reason she started any of this was because she thought I was Zoey’s dad. So once again, I’m chosen second. She’d wanted something from him, just like everyone else in his life had. He shook with rage, his skin burning. His hands gripped her harder, pinning her against the wall. He didn’t want to hear this. He couldn’t believe a word out of her mouth. He’d seen women use their own children to manipulate men before.
“You have no idea what it’s like to find out you’re pregnant from a stranger with no way to contact him. To raise a child, a human solely dependent on you to meet all her needs. To put a roof over her head, and food in her belly, and love her when all you want to do is lie down and never get back up again.” Jasmine’s gaze didn’t waver, though her body shook.
“Enough.”
“You have no idea what it’s like to see the man you thought was her father walk into your inn and not remember you. To wonder if you should tell him, if he’s safe? If he’s trying to take the one person I love most in this world. My job is to protect Zoey first and foremost. That’s why I didn’t tell you right away. I tried . . . that night.”
The night he’d come to her room. He should have listened, rather than let his dick do the thinking.
“I shouldn’t have waited so long to confess. Before things got so . . . tangled.”
“I would never have slept with you if I’d known you fucked my brother first,” he snapped.
Her face paled, pain lashing across her expression. Her head dipped, gaze pointed at the floor. “Did you mean any of it? Was this all just to buy the inn?”
It was too fucking real. But the truth would leave him vulnerable. And he’d had enough heartache to last him a lifetime. “How does it feel to have secrets kept from you?”
She shook her head. “That’s not . . . I trusted you.” She tipped her chin up. Her eyes were red from crying. Through the pain and the betrayal, she was still so tragically beautiful—stealing his breath, making his own body war against itself. The siren, dragging him down to the deepest darkest depths of the ocean, sending him to his death. He swallowed the feelings that threatened to overflow, locking them away tight as he’d been trained to do all his life, until he felt nothing but icy aloofness and hot rage. “It’s obviously not the first terrible mistake you’ve made.”
She blinked, a blank mask falling into place. “Let me go.”
He stepped back, hands dropping to his sides. His heart lurched, stomach knotting. Bile rose. What have I become?
She ran out of the room, tugging at whatever invisible force tethered them together. It cinched tighter with every footfall, until it snapped.
He sucked in a staggered breath, running his hands over his face. Heavy footsteps climbed higher on the stairs.
Oliver walked in, crossing his arms. “You look like shit.”
Atlas closed his eyes, trying to block his brother out. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Come on, At. She’s a slut. Don’t waste—”
Oliver didn’t get to finish his sentence. Atlas’s fist met his brother’s cheek with all his pent-up rage behind the punch. Oliver crashed to the floor, holding his hands out.
“What the fuck! Asshole. This is what I get for coming to check on you?” Oliver held his face.
“Why are you even here?” Atlas demanded.
“You ignored my calls. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know you wanted that position so badly. I figured you’d need my support.”
Atlas shook his head. “You have a fucking kid with her.”
“This happened before Christina got pregnant.”
“With Jasmine, you fucking idiot,” Atlas snapped.
Oliver’s face paled. “No—I can’t.” He shook his head vehemently. “I’ll lose the shares in the company. And my position. Grandfather said—”
“Well, I guess you should have kept it in your pants,” Atlas interrupted. Blood boiled at the thought of his brother’s hands on Jasmine.
Four years ago, I was in a really bad place. I’d use sex as a way to make myself feel better for a moment and . . . punish myself at the same time. I met a man in a bar and we hooked up in the bathroom.
Was that all he was to her too? What did she think she was doing? Making him fall in love with her so he’d marry her and then she’d live like a queen? Although the back child support from Oliver would have her set up for life. No. Jasmine isn’t like that. At least that was what he’d thought. But then again, she’d kept a huge secret from him the whole fucking time—thinking he was Zoey’s father. He wasn’t Oliver. He never would be. And now she knew the truth, chances were she wouldn’t want him but the real deal.
He threw everything else in his bag and zipped it up. He needed to get out of here, away from everyone. He walked out the door, leaving behind all he’d come to fall in love with in less than two weeks. This place was everything he hated now. Jasmine was the one person untainted by his life in New York City and his family. And it turned out, even that was just as much a fantasy as mermaids were.