Chapter125 – Don’t look! Get out!
Right. Why was she acting like this? She’d just take it and kick him out.
Storming forward, Clarissa reached to snatch the dryer from his hand.
But in that moment—whether she moved too fast or the towel wasn’t tight enough—there was a soft rustle... and the fabric slipped from her body.
Time stopped.
Clarissa froze. Atticus blinked, stunned. He hadn’t expected that.
Before him stood Clarissa, completely bare, her pale skin gleaming with moisture, black hair clinging to her curves, framing her like something out of a dream. Breathtaking. Vulnerable. Perfect.
His breath hitched. His eyes darkened.
But before he could take in another second, Clarissa shrieked.
“Don’t look! Get out!”
Panicking, she slammed the door—so fast Atticus barely dodged being hit in the face.
Atticus stared at the closed door, took a deep breath—and then a crooked smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Sis, I didn’t mean to… don’t be mad.”
A second later, Clarissa’s furious voice came roaring from behind the door. “GET OUT!”
Clarissa buried her face in her pillow and let out a muffled scream, clutching the blanket around her.
She wanted to die. Or at least dig a hole and hide in it forever.
Across the hall, Atticus lay in bed, eyes shut, but his mind was anything but quiet.
The scene from earlier replayed behind his eyelids in vivid detail.
He had never looked at her so closely before. She was even more beautiful than he’d imagined.
Delicate collarbones, soft curves, skin like ivory silk. The image scorched itself into his mind, setting his blood on fire.
He clenched his jaw and took several deep breaths, trying to calm the heat in his body.
......
Half an hour later, he was dreaming of her again.
But this time, Clarissa wasn’t the aloof woman. She was warm, soft, and achingly close. In the dream, he surged forward, wrapped her in his arms, and kissed her deeply.
Her lips tasted like spring water, sweet and soft, and her voice… God, her voice. It was honeyed, low, seductive. It wrapped around him like a breeze across still water, rippling something deep inside him.
When he woke up, his entire body was slick with sweat.
He sat up, breath heavy. He looked down at his sheets—completely soaked.
Groaning, he got up, changed his pants, and hung them on the balcony to dry.
Sleep was out of the question now. So he pulled out his sketchbook and started drawing.
The next morning, Atticus sat at the table eating breakfast. Halfway through his meal, he heard the soft creak of a door opening.
He turned his head.
Clarissa stepped out, dressed in a sharp professional suit, her long hair pulled neatly into a bun. She didn’t look at him, and strode quickly toward the front door.
Atticus couldn’t help the amused smile tugging at his lips. He rested his chin in his hand and said casually, “Sister, skipping breakfast?”
“No—I mean—yes—I’m late! I’ll grab something on the way!”
She fumbled for the door and slammed it shut behind her.
Atticus chuckled to himself, the sound low and genuine. Seeing her flustered and avoiding him like this? It was... refreshing.
His mood lifted instantly.
With school no longer a concern, Atticus was wondering how to spend the day when his phone buzzed.
He picked it up. It was a message from Benedict.
> “Atticus, Thaddeus is back in town. Let’s get together!”
Atticus paused, then replied, “Alright. Send me the address.”
......
Meanwhile, Clarissa had thrown herself into work, burying the previous night in the back of her mind.
She was reviewing a contract when her assistant, Nova, entered the office.
“Clarissa, the boss wants to see you.”
“Alright, I’m on my way.”
As Clarissa stood up, Nova leaned in, whispering cautiously, “Be careful. He’s in a mood.”
“Got it,” Clarissa said with a sigh.
She pushed open the office door to find her boss hunched over the desk, hands buried in his hair.
“Wanted to see me?”
He looked up, exasperated. “Clarissa! Why on earth did you give that dress to Rhea?! Do you hate her or something?!”
“She insisted on wearing it. You can check the surveillance footage if you don’t believe me.”
“Even if she begged, you shouldn’t have given it to her!” He threw up his hands. “Now look—Rhea’s been blacklisted by Dorian himself! My company’s already struggling. Do you enjoy bullying me?!”
He worked himself into such a frenzy that his eyes welled with tears.
Clarissa blinked, then poured him a glass of water and patted his shoulder. “Okay, okay. Calm down. I messed up. I’ll fix this.”
The man sniffled. “Clarissa, tell me—who’s the boss here?”
“You are,” she replied smoothly. “But since I caused the damage, I’ll take responsibility. I’ll make up the loss. As for Rhea, I’ll sign a new artist for you—someone with real potential.”
“I want someone bigger than Sienna. If you can’t find her, then you’ll have to debut yourself.”
“I don’t have anyacting skills.”
“You’ve got a face, and enough social buzz to launch a rocket. That’s enough!”
She sighed, rubbing her temples. “Fine. I’ll do my best to find someone you’re satisfied with.”
Clarissa had just stepped out of the office when she ran into Rhea.
The moment Rhea saw her, her eyes darkened with venom—like she wanted to rip a piece of flesh right off Clarissa’s bones.
Her assistant quickly tugged on her arm and whispered something to her.
"Get out of my sight!" She shoved Clarissa hard.
Clarissa stumbled, heels skidding against the floor, but caught herself on the wall just in time.
Back in her office, Clarissa had barely sat down when her phone lit up.
William. Her fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before she answered. Suddenly, she didn’t know what to say.
William broke the silence first. “Clarissa... are you okay?”
“I—I’m fine.” Her voice dropped a little. “What about you? Did you manage to resolve that issue?”
“Yeah... it’s settled. And, I’ve found some leads. About the that you fell into the water.”
“Fell into the water?”
William’s voice lowered, serious now. “It’s not something I can explain over the phone. Do you have time to meet?”
Clarissa hesitated, then said, “Would the weekend work?”
“Blue Mountain Coffee. I’ll be waiting.”
“Alright. I’ll see you then.”
After work, Clarissa ran into Rhea again.
She tried to walk around her—but Rhea stepped right into her path. “Stop right there.”
Clarissa narrowed her eyes. “What do you want?”
“What do I want? What the hell did you say to get me blacklisted?!”
Before Clarissa could answer, Nova stepped up beside her, voice sharp. “What does that have to do with Clarissa?”
“Oh please!” Rhea spat, her voice rising. “She’s jealous of me, obviously! That bitch—today, I’m done pretending!”
She lunged forward, hatred burning in her eyes.
Clarissa barely had time to react. She instinctively stepped back—but her heel twisted sharply, and pain shot up her ankle like lightning.
“Clarissa!” Nova’s scream pierced the air. “You dare come to our design department to start trouble?! Ladies, help me out here!”
Seeing Clarissa hurt, Nova launched herself at Rhea. A storm of chaos erupted as coworkers jumped in—screaming, shoving, scratching. Within seconds, the office was a full-on battlefield.
......
An hour later, the dust had finally settled.
Nova, panting, had a scratch across her cheek—but her energy was electric. “Clarissa, you okay?”
Clarissa sat on the edge of the desk, trying not to move her foot. Her ankle was bright red and swollen—like an overripe plum.
Nova’s eyes widened. “Oh god, that looks awful! If I’d known, I would've slapped Rhea a few more times.”
“You—” Clarissa sighed. “Don’t be so reckless next time. The boss nearly passed out.”