Chapter 275: Not A Match
[Minutes ago, in Summit Partners...]
Atlas rolled his neck in a slow circular motion, loosening the stiffness. His eyes flicked to the clock, his brows creasing when he noticed the time. Thinking Lola was taking longer than expected, he picked up his phone and sent her a message.
[To: Lola Young
Where are you? I’ll meet you halfway.]
But just as he hit send, another name flashed on the screen. Without hesitation, he answered.
"Baby," he greeted, only to frown as Baby spoke on the other end. When the man finished, Atlas’s expression darkened.
"Was she abducted?" he asked.
"No, sir. Miss Lola went with them. There didn’t seem to be any struggle."
"Where are you now?"
Baby, who was parked at a distance, kept his gaze fixed on the resort. "I’m at the place they took Miss Young. I’ve already called for backup, and they’re in position. We’re just waiting for your order, sir."
"Hold your fire," Atlas ordered as he rose to his feet. "Make the call if things go south."
"Yes, sir."
Atlas grabbed his blazer but paused before putting it on. He speed-dialed another number, which was answered immediately.
"Allen, find out who took Lola," he commanded. "I want everything you can dig up about them."
*****
[Present Time]
"Please tell me you have a good explanation for this... because if not, I don’t think I want to be in this car with you."
Atlas eased off the accelerator, finally turning his head toward her. Seeing the look on her face—as if her whole world was collapsing—he pulled the car over to the side of the road. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he seemed to wrestle with something in his mind.
When his eyes met hers again, Lola’s throat tightened, and she swallowed hard.
"I have a good reason," he said, reaching for her trembling hand. "Do you trust me?"
A thin sheen of tears made her vision blur. Her fingers twitched, pinching his thumb as she gave a faint nod.
"I’ll explain everything once we’re out of here," he continued. "It’s not safe."
Lola pressed her lips together, reminded that they were still in Vito’s territory. If they lingered any longer, who knew what that madman might do?
She nodded. "Okay."
*****
Lola sat in silence, her mind drifting. Too many thoughts swirled in her head, but they all circled back to the file on her lap. Atlas hadn’t seen the photos Vito had paraded before her, and he didn’t need to.
What she needed from him was an explanation—a good one—for why he had exhumed her son’s grave.
Her trance broke when the car slowed to a stop. She peered out the window, her brows knitting.
"Why bring me here?" She asked, turning to him. "Are you going to bury me in the same cemetery you exhumed?"
Atlas blinked at her words, momentarily speechless. She bit her tongue, regretting the jab that just came out naturally.
"Let’s go." He unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out, slamming the door shut.
Lola followed reluctantly. Her steps faltered as she realized where he had led her—to her son’s grave. The very grave from the photos still clutched in her hand.
Atlas stood before the headstone, staring down at what he had once unearthed.
"Why here?" She asked, her voice sharper than she intended.
His gaze remained fixed on the grave. "Lola, you told me you got into an accident weeks before giving birth."
Her brows rose at his words.
"And because of that, you lost the child," he continued. "That’s what you told me."
"I did tell you that," she admitted with a nod. "So?"
A thick silence hung in the air before Atlas drew a long breath.
"Is that really all you remember from that incident?" he asked, finally turning his head toward her.
Her lips tightened. "Atlas, what does this have to do with you exhuming my son’s grave—the same day I brought you here out of good faith, trying to have an honest relationship with you?"
"Everything."
"What?"
"I had it exhumed for a DNA test," he said without hesitation. "If what you told me was true, then it’s possible the child in this grave isn’t just your son... he could also be mine."
Lola’s heart lurched into her throat. Her eyes widened, haunted by the truth she’d always buried. She might not remember who she’d been with that night, but he did. So, it was only natural he wanted to know.
"I wanted to know if the child in this grave was mine," he pressed. "He isn’t."
"What?" she whispered, disbelief shaking her voice. Her gaze darted between him and the grave. "How... that’s—"
But the words stuck in her throat as a darker thought crept in. Had she not been with him that night? Was she even pregnant from that moment? Or had something else happened entirely?
Her head throbbed. "What in the world..." she muttered, clutching her temple. "I—I..."
"He’s not a match to me," Atlas said evenly. "And he’s not a match to you either."
Her eyes snapped to him, disbelief carved into her features.
"What did you just say?" she scoffed, searching for any trace of anything in his face.
"He is not your child, Lola," Atlas said, loud and clear. "The child you mourned... the one buried here... is not your son."
The words hit like a sledgehammer, making her stumble back a step.
"No," she whispered. "You’re lying."
But Atlas didn’t flinch. He held her gaze with grim resolve.
"I wish I were," he admitted softly, guilt flickering in his eyes. "I never wanted to tell you this. But it’s the truth."
"I’m sorry."
A tear slipped down her cheek. Lola bit her lips, but the flood of tears wouldn’t stop. She turned her face away, staring at the headstone in shattered silence. Her grip on the folder slackened until it slipped from her hands.
The breeze lifted the scattered photos, one sliding to Atlas’s feet. He glanced down and froze. It was the image of himself, captured the night he exhumed the body.
A cold shadow crossed his eyes, his fist tightening. Now he understood how she had found out.
Thud!
His head snapped up at the sound. Lola had dropped to her knees, tears streaming as she muffled her sobs.
"No," she whimpered, clutching her mouth with trembling hands. "No..."