Declaration: You're mine

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"Yes, how can I assist you?" I replied, my voice betraying none of the internal turmoil I felt. Although I had claimed to be adept at holding grudges, the truth was, I struggled to maintain resentment for long. Yet, when it came to Atlas, I was determined not to yield easily.

"I have an open schedule until 2:30, so I propose we spend some time together as a family," Atlas suggested, turning to address his secretary. "I'll be out of the office until then, so please direct any inquiries to the appropriate departments. Thank you." His words were crisp and authoritative, leaving no room for argument.

Without hesitating, I grasped Apollo's hand firmly and began to stride purposefully toward the exit. Atlas's voice echoed behind us, a futile attempt to halt our departure. "I told you to wait," he called out, his tone tinged with frustration.

As we reached the exit, I paused, waiting for Atlas to catch up. It wasn't as if I could teach him everything at once, and besides, we still needed a ride. When he finally reached me, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Why did you speed up?" he questioned, his tone tinged with suspicion.

As we approached the car park, I turned to Atlas, suggesting a change in our plans. "Where are we heading first? Should we grab a bite to eat before you head back to the office, and then Apollo and I can head to the park?" I proposed, already leading the way with Apollo's hand in mine. Atlas unlocked the car, and I helped Apollo into his car seat before turning back to face Atlas.

As Atlas instructed me to get in, I stood my ground, determined to make my point. "As a gentleman, you should open my door," I insisted, locking my arms defiantly across my chest. I was not going to back down, not this time.

But instead of giving in to my demands, Atlas seemed exasperated. "Kayla, get in. Don't be ridiculous," he urged, his patience wearing thin. Yet, I remained steadfast in my resolve. "No," I retorted firmly, refusing to yield. If he was going to be stubborn, then I would match him every step of the way. It was time for a little payback.

With a resigned sigh, Atlas got into the car and started to drive away, leaving me standing there, feeling a mix of frustration and bewilderment. But then, to my surprise, he reversed back to where I was standing and rolled down the window. "Are you sure you don't want to get in?" he asked, his tone softer now, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Some battles weren't worth fighting to the bitter end, and I knew when to pick my battles. Reluctantly, I conceded defeat and got into the car, trying to save face by adjusting my seat and turning up the volume of the radio. It was a small victory for Atlas, but I wasn't about to let him think he had won the war.

Ignoring Atlas, I turned to Apollo for the only opinion that truly mattered in that moment. "Apollo, what should we eat for lunch?" I asked, eager to indulge in whatever culinary delight he desired.

"I want ice cream," Apollo exclaimed with excitement, and I couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Okay, me too," I agreed, already picturing the creamy sweetness melting on my tongue.

But before we could solidify our decision, Atlas interjected with his own suggestion. "No, that's dessert," he pointed out logically. "You two can have ice cream after lunch. How about steamed fish?"

Apollo and I exchanged a knowing glance, our unspoken bond solidifying as we both shook our heads in vehement disagreement. Steamed fish was definitely not on our agenda for the day. I couldn't help but wonder who in their right mind would suggest such a bland option for lunch. Was Atlas secretly a hundred years old? Maybe he was soul sucking vampire that looked around thirty but had existed for centuries.

With the lunch destination settled, I quickly typed the address for my favourite Korean fried chicken spot into the navigation system. Glancing over at Atlas, I made sure he knew where he would be taking us. "A fried chicken spot that I enjoy, but if you want to go to another place, I'm fine with that too, Mr. Walker," I remarked, emphasising his title with a touch of formality.

"You don't have to call me Mr. Walker when it's just us," he replied, a hint of annoyance flickering across his features."Okay, Mr. Walker," I countered, unable to resist the opportunity to assert that I would be complying with his infuriating boundaries and maintain a professional demeanour.

We settled at a cozy table by the window, the soft light filtering in and casting a warm glow over the scene outside. A nearby pond glistened in the sunlight, adding to the serene ambiance of the setting. As the waitress approached to take our orders, I couldn't help but notice her lingering gaze on Atlas. The possessive, jealous side of me reared its head, despite my efforts to keep it in check. It was frustrating to feel such emotions towards him, knowing deep down that our connection would always remain one-sided and unrequited. I had lost it completely and was delusional, we had only known each other for the total of two days and I was thinking about our connection.

"Hubby, I can't decide what I want. Maybe I should just get a salad," I remarked, my tone dripping with sarcasm and a tinge of jealousy. The words were a subtle reminder of the delicate balance of our unconventional arrangement, where even if we were playing house, I refused to be the one constantly taken for granted.

"You've been going on and on about their spicy Korean fried chicken burger and the gochujang fries the entire ride, not stopping for a second, and now you want a salad?" Atlas questioned, his confusion evident in his expression. The remark earned a snicker from the waitress, a small sting to my pride.

"And you wanted steamed fish. People change their minds," I retorted, feeling my patience wearing thin. "You know what, actually, I'll have the burger and chips." I needed to keep my cool, so I shifted my attention to Apollo. "What would you like, buddy?" He decided on the honey garlic chicken strips, and Atlas followed suit, ordering the same as me.

Once the waitress had left to get our orders ready, I seized the opportunity to slide from my seat and take the spot right beside Atlas. Leaning in close, I whispered with deliberate caution, ensuring Apollo wouldn't overhear, "While we're playing this family charade, you're mine. You're loyal, or there's no deal on our agreement." My words were laced with a hint of warning, a subtle reminder that I wasn't one to be trifled with.

To my surprise, Atlas didn't recoil or protest. Instead, he met my gaze with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "Is that jealousy I sense?" he teased, a smirk playing on his lips. "I thought I wasn't your type." His words caught me off guard, and for a moment, I was at a loss for a retort. It seemed he was more perceptive than I had given him credit for.

"Calm down grandpa, it's just the principle, I don't want my hubby with others even if said hubby is pretend, pretentious, annoying and old." I retorted.

Atlas chuckled at my response, his amusement evident in the twinkle of his eyes. "Ah, so it's the principle, then," he remarked, his tone playful yet tinged with a hint of warmth. "I'll keep that in mind, Mrs. Jealous."

When the waitress returned with our food, I couldn't help but notice the way she lingered a little too long at our table, her eyes darting between Atlas and me. It was clear that she had picked up on the underlying tension between us, and I felt a pang of annoyance at her intrusion.

Ignoring her curious gaze, I focused on enjoying my meal, relishing the crispy texture of the fried chicken and the tangy flavour of the dipping sauce. Apollo seemed equally delighted with his honey garlic chicken strips, his face lighting up with each bite.

As we finished our meal and the bill arrived, I took the opportunity to tease. "Lunch is on me," I declared, pulling out the black card Atlas had lent me earlier. I turned to face Atlas, a mischievous smirk playing on my lips. "Should I also add your 50p sauce to the itemised expense list?" I teased, taking a playful jab at him.

To my surprise, Atlas's response was laced with a hint of endearment, catching me off guard. "You wouldn't need to send a list, as that is my personal card and not my business card, wifey," he quipped, the term of endearment sending a flutter through my chest. I blushed furiously, feeling Apollo's eyes on me with a knowing smile.

As the clock neared 2:10, I suggested it was time to head back. "Apollo and I will go to the park close to the company," I explained, "We'll stay for one or two hours, and then I'll bring him back to your office." Surprisingly, Atlas agreed without argument, a sign that perhaps he was beginning to trust me more than I had anticipated. It was a small victory, but it filled me with a sense of accomplishment nonetheless.

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