Stealing the Heart of Mr. Steele

[Atlas]

I have no choice but to call the police.

As soon as I tell Sydney this, she starts to cry.

"But Atlas, don't you see? I did it for you!" she weeps as she grabs my knees, begging. "I did it for us."

Disgusted. I stand, avoiding her grasping hands while I text my brother. She keeps calling my name as I pace back and forth. Seeing me otherwise occupied, she leaps to her feet and grabs a small bag from inside of the cleavage of her dress. Opening it, she tilts it above her mouth.

I move to grab it, but she takes a large step backward. The white powder comes out quicker than she expects and instead of landing in her mouth, it also covers her nose and eyes, making her sneeze and choke. Snagging the rest of the bag away from her, I help her sit down while she wipes her eyes and whimpers.

Defeated, she confesses to everything having let the attackers into the door, staging the attack, and also the attempted kidnapping. "I was just trying

to scare her," she insisted. "I wasn't going to hurt her. I just.... just wanted her to stop hurting you. Please don't send me home. I can't go back to my father like this."

She waits for me to reply, but I don't say anything. I don't know what to say. Taking care of her and teaching her what she needed to know about business was my responsibility and I failed her.

"I'm sorry, Sydney," I open the door for the police as they arrive. "But I can't save you from yourself."

"I want to talk to my attorney."

I offer her the use of Steele Industry's legal team but she refuses. She wants her attorney and her father.C0pyright © 2024 Nôv)(elDrama.Org.

As she sat there, quietly protesting her treatment, the police did a thorough search of the room. The powder covering her dress is believed to be some strange mixture of over-the- counter medications. They are taking it to toxicology "just to be sure" but they are confident that nothing in the room is more harmful

than cold and flu medicine.

"Do you want to press charges, Mr. Steele?"

I'm about to say "no," when the police begin opening her suitcase. They pull out a very familiar-looking bottle of wine. This is the same wine that she had at my house and the same wine she brought to the hotel. At this point, the label has become memorable.

They were about to put it back when I say. "Test the bottle."

"Mr. Steele?"

"Check it for drugs. I think," I hate to say this, but I also know it is probably true. "I think she's been drugging me, and possibly my wife." "So do you want to press charges?" they ask again.

Everything stops in that moment as I consider what he is asking me. If I press charges, then she'll likely be deported, sent home in disgrace.

Looking across the room at her proud figure, I wonder if she can survive the shame.

But then I remember the rest of the events of the day. If all of this was Sydney, what else was she responsible for?

And if that wine is the same wine from that evening. The same wine she brought to my house the night Cordelia left me...

Is it possible that Cordelia was telling the truth the entire time?

"Yes," I answer quickly as I race out the door. "Press charges."

I need to find my wife.

I need to find her right now.

Looking at my watch, I see the celebration dinner has just begun.

If I hurry, I might still make it in time to set things right.