Page 99 of Crown of Lies

“They had my back in that moment. And I knew then that I would have theirs forever, no matter what.” His eyes meet mine, fierce and determined. “Nico and Killian, they’re like brothers to me. I’d follow Nico to hell and back if he asked.”

I nod, understanding the depth of his loyalty. That’s how I felt about my dad, how I still feel about some of my own people. But then his expression shifts, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face.

“The only time Nico and I have truly butted heads,” he admits, “was about the decision to lie to you.”

That catches me off guard. I lean back slightly, processing this new information.

“What do you mean?”

“I never liked it. At first, it felt too risky to try to play both sides. Allying with you while also trying to spy on you? It was a disaster waiting to happen.”

I nod, encouraging him to continue. My heart races as I listen, hanging on every word.

“But then,” he huffs out a short breath, “it started to feel wrong for a different reason. We were all falling for you, getting attached. Lying to you… it didn’t sit right with me anymore.”

His confession hits hard, but I don’t dare interrupt.

“Nico though,” he continues, shaking his head with a wry smile, “he’s one of the most stubborn people I know. Once he sets his mind on something, that’s it. I’ve rarely seen him change his mind about anything.”

He pauses, his eyes searching mine. “So the fact that he decided to stop spying on you, to go back on our deal with The Saint? That speaks volumes, vicious. It means something.”

I nod, my heart thumping wildly in my chest as his words sink in. He reaches out, gently smoothing my wet hair back from my face. His touch is tender, almost reverent, and I can’t help but lean into it.

“Nico knew, just like the rest of us did, that you would change everything for us. From the moment you walked into our lives, we all felt it. You shook up our world in ways we never expected.”

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words. The bathroom suddenly feels almost too small, too intimate for the huge feelings that are churning inside me.

“So,” he continues, his hand still resting on my cheek, “yes, I guess now that I’m thinking about it, I do think we can come back from it. It’s not an easy road, but there is a road.”

His thumb brushes lightly across my cheekbone, and I feel a shiver run through me that has nothing to do with the cooling bathwater.

“I get it,” I say softly. “Trust isn’t easy for any of us.”

He nods, his hand still resting on my cheek. “Nico learned not to trust anyone but himself at a young age. Killian too. He’s been through some shit that would break most people. It’s why he’s so guarded, why he keeps everyone at arm’s length. I guess he’s already let you in on some of that though.”

He pauses, his eyes meeting mine. “And me? Well, you already know about my dad. After that, trusting anyone felt like setting myself up for more pain.”

I nod, understanding all too well. Trust has always been a luxury I couldn’t afford either, aside from a handful of people—and that number has dwindled over the years.

“But somehow,” Atlas says, a hint of wonder in his voice, “the three of us found each other. We built something together, something real. It took time, but we grew to trust each other so completely that we’d be willing to die for one another without hesitation.”

His words hang in the air between us, and I feel my heart racing, sensing where this might be going.

“And now,” he continues, “maybe there’s room for one more in that.”

Emotions I’ve been holding back start to bubble up inside me, threatening to spill over. I realize now that I want them on my side. For real. Not just as a temporary alliance or a means to an end, but as something permanent and meaningful.

I’ve been holding back, not trusting—just like they once were. It’s a defense mechanism I’ve relied on for years, a habit of depending only on myself. But as I look into Atlas’s eyes, I suddenly don’t want to do that anymore.

It reminds me of that first conversation with Nico, when he asked who had my back. Now, I find myself hoping that maybe, just maybe, these three could be that for me.

But I’m not great at emotional stuff. Being open with my feelings has never been my strong suit. The words get stuck in my throat, tangled up with years of self-preservation and distrust.

So instead of pouring my heart out, I opt for something lighter and offer him a smile.

“You know,” I say, gesturing to the spacious tub, “this bathtub is big enough for two.”

Atlas grins and stands up, his hands moving to the hem of his shirt.

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