Atlas Hallow draped the jacket over Charlotte Miller's shoulders, then held her on his lap, wiping his hands with a wet tissue before gently reaching into her clothes, accurately finding her stomach. His large hand gently caressed it, the warmth of his palm seeming to warm her slightly chilled stomach instantly.
"Don't drink this if your stomach feels uncomfortable, rest for a while. I'll take you out for something else after I finish the meeting." Concern flickered in Atlas Hallow's eyes; she'd been quite busy recently, her already small face looking even more petite, with a pointed chin that pained him to see.
However, he couldn't ask Charlotte Miller to stop and rest because she never wanted to be just a trophy wife. Thus, he could only let her fight in the business world like a man.
