As she spoke, her eyes were wide, the fear and confusion unmistakable.
She clutched her hands tightly in her lap, her knuckles white as she tried to convey the strangeness of her feelings.
Her voice, usually so calm and steady, trembled with the weight of her revelation, revealing the depth of her struggle.
Atlas, standing across from her, watched with a mix of concern and perplexity.
He moved closer, his movements tentative, as if approaching a scared animal. "Beatrice…,"
"I feel like I'm not just myself anymore," Beatrice continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "There's someone else with me, inside me, trying to take over."
As Atlas gently suggested that Beatrice rest more, the concern in his voice didn't quite reach his eyes.
He watched her nod and curl up under the blankets, her figure small and weary.
As soon as he stepped out of the room, his demeanor shifted from concerned husband to a man on a mission.
Approaching with determined strides, Atlas intercepted the doctor before he could enter another patient's room.
"Doctor Reynolds, a moment, please," Atlas said, his voice carrying an edge of authority that made the doctor stop in his tracks and turn toward him with a polite nod.
"Mr. Hawk, how can I assist you?" Doctor Reynolds asked, adjusting his glasses, a hint of apprehension in his voice due to the intensity in Atlas's eyes.
"I believe it would be best for Beatrice's recovery if she were transferred to a specialized mental institution," Atlas began, his statement sounding more like a decision than a suggestion.
Doctor Reynolds frowned slightly, taken aback by the request. "Mr. Hawk, transferring Mrs. Hawk to a mental institution isn't a decision to be taken lightly. We need comprehensive psychological evaluations and tests to determine if that's even necessary or beneficial for her."
Atlas's patience frayed at the edges as he replied sharply, "Doctor, I expected more flexibility and solutions from someone of your esteemed position. What am I paying you for if not to ensure my wife receives the best possible care?"
The doctor's expression tightened, his professional demeanor struggling under Atlas's scrutiny.
"Mr. Hawk, while I understand your concerns, we must adhere to medical ethics. We can't simply transfer a patient without proper medical justification. It's not about what you pay me; it's about what's medically right for Mrs. Hawk."
Atlas leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a menacing whisper.
"Then perhaps you should find a way to make it medically right. If you can't help me in this, I'm sure I can find another doctor who will."
Doctor Reynolds met Atlas's gaze, his own resolve firming.
"I will not compromise my ethical standards. However, I am willing to expedite the evaluation process to assess her condition more thoroughly."
Atlas took a step back, his gaze cold and calculating.
"See that you do, Doctor. I'll be expecting an update before the day is out." With that, he turned sharply and strode away, leaving Doctor Reynolds to ponder the implications of his demands.
The doctor sighed deeply, feeling the weight of the confrontation. He knew dealing with Atlas Hawk was going to be challenging.
*
Atlas walked briskly through the lobby, his mind still churning from the tense conversation with Doctor Reynolds.
As he approached his sleek, black limousine parked outside, he expected a moment of solitude to collect his thoughts before his next move.
However, as the chauffeur opened the door for him, Atlas was taken aback by an unexpected sight.
Inside the spacious limousine, Victoria was seated elegantly with one leg crossed over the other, a glass of champagne in her hand.
She wore a striking red dress that complemented her confident demeanor, looking completely at ease in the plush interior of the vehicle.
"Victoria?" Atlas said, his surprise evident as he paused at the entrance of the limousine.
"Hi, Atlas," Victoria replied smoothly, her voice calm and a slight smirk playing on her lips. She gestured to the seat beside her. "Can I join you for a ride?"
Atlas hesitated, his initial shock giving way to suspicion. He stepped into the limousine, the door closing behind him with a soft thud, sealing them in the quiet luxury of the car.
"What brings you here, Victoria? And to what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, his tone cautious as he settled into the seat across from her.
Victoria took a sip of her champagne before responding, her eyes locked on Atlas.
"I thought it was time we had a little chat, don't you think? With everything going on with Beatrice, it seems we might have more in common than we thought."
Atlas's expression hardened slightly. "I'm not sure I follow. What exactly are we supposed to have in common?"
Victoria set down her champagne glass and leaned forward, her gaze intense.
"Our interests, Atlas. We both want what's best for ourselves, and let's be honest, Beatrice's condition complicates things for both of us. I believe we can help each other."
Atlas processed her words, his mind racing through the potential implications.
"And what kind of help are you suggesting, Victoria?"
She smiled, a calculating, shrewd expression that did not reach her eyes.
"Let's just say I have certain... resources that could be beneficial in managing the situation. And perhaps you could be of service to me in solidifying my position."
The air between them thickened with unspoken understandings and potential conspiracies as the limousine pulled away from the curb, the city lights blurring past.
Atlas weighed Victoria's proposal, aware that any alliance with her would be fraught with risks and rewards.
"So, shall we consider this the beginning of a fruitful partnership?" Victoria asked, her voice low and persuasive.
Atlas took a deep breath, the stakes and possibilities clear in his mind.
"Perhaps," he said slowly, "but I'll need to know exactly what you're proposing before I agree to anything."
As the limousine merged into the night traffic, the two sat in a charged silence, each contemplating the chessboard of power and manipulation that lay before them.
"I've changed my mind, how about we have a little fun first," Victoria whispered seductively, her hand slipping inside Atlas's shirt to caress his bare skin.
*