Chapter104 – You are home
“Clarissa, I swear, you’re more beautiful than any celebrity I’ve seen. Why are you always behind the scenes instead of in the spotlight?”
Clarissa didn’t even flinch as she filled in her brows. “Because that life’s not for me.”
She didn’t need fame. She didn’t need attention. She had money, success, and control—and she liked it that way.
“Is it because of your boyfriend?”
Clarissa paused for the briefest moment. “I don’t have one.”
The assistant blinked in disbelief. “What? You don’t—?”
“I said I don’t,” Clarissa repeated, her voice calm, almost amused. “But that might change after tonight.”
The girl’s eyes lit up with curiosity like a match to gasoline. “So this dress is for a date? Who is he? Where are you going?”
Clarissa gave her a sideways glance.
The assistant instantly raised both hands. “I swear! I won’t tell a soul!”
Clarissa looked back at her reflection. “It doesn’t matter. I’m meeting him tonight—at the Opal Crest Hotel.”
......
The second the elevator doors opened, hands lunged out and yanked the assistant to the side.
“Ah—!” A hand clamped over her mouth. Her eyes shot wide as she looked up—into Atticus’s cold, furious gaze.
Her legs buckled.
“Don’t scream,” he said, voice low and controlled. “Just answer my questions. Got it?”
The assistant nodded rapidly, eyes tearing up.
When he released her, she stammered out, “I—I only have this much on me. I can go to the bank right now if you want—!”
She scrambled to pull cash and cards from her bag, offering them with trembling hands.
Atticus looked at her like she was insane. “Do I look like I want your money?”
“Then… you’re not here to collect debts?”
“That’s what she told you?”
“Y–yes…”
Atticus’s jaw clenched.
“What else did she say?” he asked, stepping closer, his tone darker. “Every word. Especially about the dress. Why did she order it? Where is she going tonight?”
The assistant froze, lips quivering.
.....
Watching the little assistant flee with tears streaming down her face, Atticus stood motionless, eyes locked on the elevator like a predator. His expression was unreadable, but the murderous glint in his eyes said enough.
A couple’s restaurant? A date? She really wanted to fall into another man’s arms?
Over my dead body.
Atticus’ jaw clenched as his gaze darkened like a storm. He didn’t care how far she tried to run. Clarissa was his, and he wasn’t about to let her go.
Inside, Clarissa slipped in her second earring and gave herself one final glance in the mirror. The sleek white dress hugged her curves with an elegance that felt both vulnerable and bold.
Her phone buzzed. She answered while stepping out, “Hello, William? I was just about to head down. You—”
She froze mid-step, one hand on the elevator button.
“What?” Her voice sharpened. “A fire? How did—are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” William replied, his voice calm but tight. “But tonight’s dinner might be off. I have to stay for questioning and give a statement.”
“That’s okay,” Clarissa breathed, relief softening her shoulders. “As long as you’re alright.”
She hung up, and to her own surprise, she felt... lighter. A weight in her chest she hadn’t even realized was there slowly faded.
But the calm only lasted a moment.
A familiar voice slid behind her like a knife wrapped in silk.
“Sister,” Atticus murmured, “were you looking forward to going on a date with another man?”
Clarissa turned sharply. Atticus stood just a few feet behind her, silent as a shadow. His expression was neutral—but his eyes were a different story.
They were pitch black, dangerous, burning with quiet fury.
He looked her over, head to toe. The white dress. The heels. The shimmering, flawless makeup. She looked divine—and she had dressed like this for someone else.
The fire inside him roared louder.
Clarissa’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you still here?”
“This is my home. Why can’t I come back?”
“No.” She cut him off. “This is my home now.”
Atticus stared at her for a moment, then slowly lowered his gaze. His voice softened, almost pitiful. “Sister... would you really throw me out? Would you really leave me homeless?”
“Don’t try that on me,” she snapped. “You’re not some stray on the street. You’ve had more money than most people see in a lifetime since you were in high school. Don’t act pathetic now.”
She had worked herself to the bone to make sure he had everything. Tuition, rent, clothes, networking dinners... and for what?
For him to come back and want her like this?
Her hands trembled slightly, rage and sorrow boiling together. She turned toward the elevator.
But Atticus moved too fast.
He caught her from behind, arms locking around her waist, holding her tightly to his chest.
“Sister, please… I was wrong, I know I was wrong,” he murmured into her ear, his voice heartbreakingly gentle. “I’ll never scare you again. Punish me however you want. Just don’t leave me.”
His breath was warm on her skin, the grip of his arms protective—possessive.
“Out there, it’s all meaningless,” he whispered. “There’s no home out there. You are home.”
For a moment, just a moment, Clarissa’s resolve cracked.
The boy she once loved—her sweet, proud little brother—he was still in there somewhere, wasn’t he?
But the man holding her now was not a boy.
His body was hard and hot behind her. The weight of him, the raw male energy surging off him, reminded her that this was no longer the past. He had grown, and in the worst possible way.
Atticus was dangerous.
Clarissa yanked herself free, shoving him back with both hands.
“Let go of me!”
She took several steps away from him, her breathing uneven. “If you still see me as family, then leave. Go think about what we really are to each other. If you don’t walk out that door right now, I’m calling security.”
Atticus’ voice cracked. “You’re really this cruel to me?”
Clarissa’s fury exploded. “Cruel? Who’s the one being cruel here?”
Her voice rose, full of heartbreak and betrayal.
“I treated you like my own blood. I gave everything so you could have a better life. And you—” Her words caught in her throat, disgust twisting her face. “You kissed me. You tried to force yourself on your sister!”
Clarissa’s skin crawled. She didn’t want to hear another word. Didn’t want to see that face anymore—the face she once cherished, now stained with obsession.
She turned and ran to the front door, yanking it open.
Then slam—the door shut behind her with thunderous finality.
This time, he didn’t follow.
As soon as the door slammed shut, Clarissa crumbled.
Her cool exterior, that icy calm she had forced herself to maintain, shattered in an instant. Her legs gave out beneath her, and she sank to the floor.
Why… why did things have to end up like this?
She sat there for a long time, knees drawn up, letting the silence wrap around her like a second skin. It took minutes—maybe more—before she could finally breathe again.
When she could move, Clarissa pushed herself up slowly and peeked through the peephole.
The hallway was empty.
She exhaled in relief. He left.
For the next three days, Atticus didn’t return. And neither did William’s voice.
At first, the absence kept her nerves on edge. But by the third day, the weight in her chest eased.
Truth was… she had never really intended to say yes to William. If it hadn’t been for what happened with Atticus...
She sighed, shaking off the thought. After hesitating for a moment, she picked up her phone and dialed William’s number.