Chapter 3 - What Atlas Was Trying to Tell Me
At 2:10 a.m., I moved Atlas into the kitchen.
No staff.
No silver bowls.
No commands.
I cooked plain chicken myself.
Jared leaned against the counter watching.
“You’re paying a hundred thousand dollars for boiled chicken,” I said.
“I’ve made worse investments.”
“Somehow I believe you.”
I sat on the floor.
Atlas sniffed.
Then looked toward Jared.
“Sit down.”
Jared raised an eyebrow.
“On the floor?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Something almost resembling amusement crossed his face.
He removed his jacket and sat.
Atlas stared.
I placed a piece of chicken between us.
“Don’t touch him.”
“I know my dog.”
“Apparently not lately.”
That earned me another look.
Five minutes passed.
Atlas crawled forward.
One inch.
Then another.
Finally, he ate.
Jared stopped breathing.
Atlas ate a second piece.
Then a third.
Jared looked at me.
“How?”
“He’s hungry.”
“Then why wouldn’t he eat?”
“Because something made eating feel unsafe.”
Jared immediately reached for his phone.
I stopped him.
“Don’t start firing people.”
His eyes sharpened.
“You don’t tell me how to run my house.”
“No. But terrified employees won’t tell us the truth.”
“Us?”
“You want to solve this?”
He stared at me.
Then lowered the phone.
“Fine.”
We questioned the staff individually.
A young housekeeper named Nina finally cracked.
“Edwin changed Atlas’s routine.”
“When?” I asked.
“Three weeks ago.”
Jared leaned forward.
“What did he do?”
“He started locking Atlas in the downstairs utility room during meetings.”
Jared went completely still.
“I never authorized that.”
Nina looked terrified.
“He said you did.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
I asked, “Anything else?”
She hesitated.
“Atlas hated the room.”
“Why?”
“There’s an alarm panel inside. It makes a high-pitched sound sometimes.”
That was enough.
We went downstairs.
The moment we approached the utility corridor, Atlas refused to move.
Jared’s face hardened.
I entered alone.
The room was small.
Windowless.
A security panel emitted a faint electronic whine.
I could barely hear it.
A dog could.
Then I saw scratches on the inside of the door.
I walked back out.
Jared saw my face.
“What?”
“He wasn’t dying.”
“What are you saying?”
“Atlas was being isolated in a room that hurt his ears. Repeatedly.”
Jared turned toward Miles.
“Find Edwin.”
“He left the property twenty minutes ago.”
Jared’s eyes changed.
“Why?”
Miles checked his phone.
Then his expression tightened.
“Because Edwin wasn’t just mistreating the dog.”
“What did he do?”
“He accessed your private office during the periods Atlas was locked downstairs.”
Silence.
Jared looked at Atlas.
Suddenly, the whole thing made sense.
Atlas hadn’t simply been traumatized.
He had been removed because he guarded Jared’s private rooms.
I looked at Jared.
“Your dog wasn’t the target.”
“No.”
His gaze moved toward the stairs.
May you like
“He was the witness.”
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