Since Atlas’s presence in the hospital only aggravated Stephen, Charles and Atlas chose to leave. Driving home with Atlas in the driver’s seat and Charles in the front passenger seat, silence enveloped the two.
Charles glanced at his son, who hadn’t said a word since they left. "Don’t listen to that old fart. He was problematic during my time, and he’s still problematic now that he’s old and living off maintenance."
Still, Atlas didn’t speak a word.
"Son," Charles sighed, a little worried about his eldest. "It’s not your fault. You did what you did to protect the family and the company."
Charles pressed his lips into a thin line, assessing Atlas’s unchanging side profile. All this time, Charles had completely stopped meddling in family and company affairs. The moment Atlas took a seat on the board, Charles purposely let everything go.
He did this not because he wanted to get away from work. Charles chose to turn a blind eye to everything he heard about the company or the family because he didn’t want to undermine his son’s credibility.
He didn’t want Atlas to live under the shadow of his father. He wanted others to see Atlas as his own man, not just as Charles’s son. The only reason he came here tonight was that he knew Stephen, and what had happened was a special case.
"I’m not worried about that," Atlas spoke after a prolonged silence, keeping his attention on the road. "I don’t blame myself for what Sven did. Even if Uncle Stephen blames me, it only falls on deaf ears."
Charles’s face twitched a little as he listened to his heartless son. "Haha... why was I worried?" he grumbled. "I forgot that my eldest has much bigger problems than being accused of pushing someone to the edge."
That was Atlas’s lack of sympathy for others—or rather, his insensitivity to people’s feelings as long as his logic made sense.
"What Sven did is the result of his actions; actions made by a grown man. Sven has never lacked guidance and support. The Chairman doted on him from the beginning until now. If the Chairman didn’t favor him, he would’ve been sent abroad and never allowed to show his face again," Atlas remarked flatly. "The fact that he tried to kill himself because of the humiliation he caused is not my fault. I didn’t tie that rope and put it around his neck, nor did I ask him to do so."
"I’m fine, Dad," he continued, his tone unchanging and his eyes fixed on the road. "Even if Uncle Stephen thinks I am at fault, his opinion doesn’t matter. He has used up all his chances for me to care about what he thinks."
Charles sighed, shaking his head, rendered speechless at how insensitive his son was. But at the same time, Atlas made a lot of sense.
"Now, I don’t know whether to feel relieved or even more worried," Charles clicked his tongue. "Son, you could say that without sounding like an alien without a heart, you know?"
"I’m saying this because I know you rushed here not because of what happened to Sven, but because you heard about what happened to Allen, and then this." This time, Atlas cast his father a sidelong glance. "Your son is still in the right state of mind, so don’t worry about me."
"I appreciate you coming, though. If that punch had landed on my face, it would have hurt a lot," he added, making Charles chuckle helplessly.
"Goodness." Charles clicked his tongue while shaking his head. "Sometimes, I wonder who you took after. Your mother isn’t , and I’m definitely not ."
"Right." Atlas nodded. "I also wonder who Penny got that attitude from."
"She definitely took after your mother’s beauty, and then my brains."
Atlas didn’t comment on that, knowing whatever he wanted to say would only hurt his father. Silence fell between them for a moment, but this time, it was much lighter and less tense.
"Ahh... I guess coming down here isn’t all that bad," Charles said, leaning back comfortably. "It’s been a while since I spent time with my eldest. Atlas, how about you join us on our next fishing trip—"
"Hey, you hadn’t even thought about it."
"I’m busy. I have a problematic family to run, and many other families rely on me," Atlas explained coldly. Even if he had the time, he wouldn’t want to spend a day fishing. Hugo told him enough stories about the fishing trips, and that was enough to make Atlas want to avoid it.
"Which of the two brothers poisoned your mind?" Charles asked as if he had read Atlas’s mind just now. "It’s Slater, isn’t it?"
"Poor Slater," Atlas blurted out, giving away the answer.
"That poor second son of mine." Charles clicked his tongue in irritation. "He wasn’t when you were children, but the older he gets, the more annoying he becomes."
Atlas cast his father a sidelong glance and shook his head. The corner of his mouth, however, hooked up, telling a different story.
"Thanks for appearing tonight, Dad," Atlas expressed, earning a look from his father. "I appreciate it."
Charles smirked proudly. "Just drive and don’t be so cheesy. It’s more concerning than touching."
"Then you’re wondering who I took after."
Charles gasped at his eldest’s retort while Atlas chuckled. In the end, the two of them shared a laugh. Soon enough, they reached the Bennet Mansion in no time. Charles hopped out of the car, complaining about his back and how getting older was such a pain.
Atlas, on the other hand, chuckled as he stepped out, watching his father walk toward the front door where Butler Jen and Haines were standing. He was about to leave when he remembered something. Thus, Atlas opened the driver’s side to reach for something in the cupholder between the driver’s seat and the front passenger seat.
But just as Atlas pushed himself away, he glanced up at the rearview mirror. Atlas paused and furrowed his brows, his eyes catching the dash cam attached underneath the mirror.
"Oh." His mouth parted a little as an idea crossed his mind. "How did I not think of that?"