Page 18 of Beautiful Obsessions
Atlas looked away, jaw clenched hard.Of course he knew.
Alessio didn’t hesitate when it came to us.He never had.He didn’t weigh the risks or calculate the odds.If one of us was in the line of fire, he stepped into it without thinking twice.
Not reckless.Certain.Like it wasn’t even a question.
“He didn’t die because you failed,” I said.“He died because he refused to let you.”
His throat worked once, like he was trying to swallow something that wouldn’t go down.
We didn’t talk about him like this often.It was easier to carry him in pieces.In habits.In the way we moved, the decisions we made.
But every now and then, he came back like this.Not as a memory.As a presence.
Atlas exhaled slowly, the tension in him easing just enough to be noticeable.
“He would’ve hated this,” he muttered.
“What?”
“This.”He gestured vaguely between us.“All this… reflection.”
I huffed a quiet breath.“Yeah.He would’ve told us to shut up and do something useful.”
A faint ghost of a smile touched Atlas’s mouth.It didn’t last, but it was there.
“He’d probably tell you to stop talking altogether,” Atlas added.
“Careful,” I murmured.“You’re getting sentimental.”
I swallowed, my gaze drifting back out into the distance.
“I owe you the truth,” he said then.
I turned fully toward him now, narrowing my eyes slightly.
“About what?”
“Archie.”
The name alone was enough to pull a fresh wave of irritation through me.
“I don’t?—”
“I know you don’t like him,” Atlas cut in.“That’s not what this is about.”
I folded my arms, leaning back slightly.
“Then what is it about?”
He exhaled slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully.
“I know you’re projecting when you see him.You can’t blame him for what happened to Alessio.”
“We don’t associate with Russians, Atlas.That’s always been the case.Why now?Why Archie?”
“I know you loved him fiercely,” Atlas whispered.“But Archie’s been helping us.More than you realize.”
My expression didn’t change.
