Chapter145 – Sis, eat more
Dorian’s jaw clenched the second he saw it.
His eyes darkened—stormy, electric—and a muscle in his cheek twitched.
He looked as though he might rise from his seat. But just as he shifted, Lyra caught his hand beneath the table, gripping it tightly.
Her voice trembled with urgency. “Dorian… please. We’re at my parents’ house…”
Dorian froze, chest heaving slightly, then exhaled a slow, heavy breath. He said nothing, but his fists were clenched tight at his sides, knuckles pale with tension.
His gaze never left Atticus. That kid was using cheap tricks to seduce Clarissa.
Dorian narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t going to sit by and let him win.
.......
At dinner, Ophelia made a point of encouraging the two sisters to talk.
Clarissa played along politely, answering questions with practiced calm. But Lyra barely lifted her eyes, mumbling responses with a bowed head.
She couldn’t bear to look at Clarissa.
Not when her sister had grown even more striking, more confident.
Next to her, Lyra felt small—insignificant. Like a shadow cast in her wake.
Worse still, she could feel Dorian’s gaze, lingering—not on her, but on Clarissa. It burned through her like a blade of ice.
Meanwhile, Atticus reached out, this time placing a shrimp on Clarissa’s plate. “Sis, eat more.”
Clarissa’s eyes darted toward her parents, her expression stiffening. Under the table, she tugged at his shirt sleeve, whispering under her breath, “Stop it. My parents are watching.”
But Atticus only grinned, eyes dancing with mischief. When Clarissa tried to pull her hand back, he moved quickly—flipping his wrist and capturing her fingers in his own.
Clarissa jolted slightly, her ears flushing pink.
She glanced down in shock. “Don’t,” she whispered breathlessly. “Stop messing around… let go...”
Atticus gave her an exaggerated innocent look. “Is something wrong? Doesn’t the food taste good?”
“You—” Clarissa bit her lip, cheeks burning. Her voice was no louder than a whisper. “It’s good… okay? It’s good.”
Satisfied, Atticus finally released her hand, the corners of his mouth twitching with unspoken laughter.
Clarissa exhaled in relief and quickly placed her hands on the table where they were visible, her heart thumping wildly in her chest.
The rest of the meal passed in a blur. Clarissa’s attention was glued to Atticus the entire time. She watched him like a hawk, worried what ridiculous thing he might do next.
She didn’t have the bandwidth to notice anything else—not Dorian’s brooding stare, not Lyra’s trembling hands.
......
Seeing that the two sisters still barely spoke, their parents could only sigh silently. They felt helpless—but they didn’t press.
Atticus, on the other hand, was positively glowing. A lazy, satisfied smirk curled on his lips. His objective had been met.
Out of everyone at the table, he was the only one who truly enjoyed the meal. He even devoured three full bowls of rice, each one polished off with unabashed appetite.
When dinner ended and it was time to leave, Nathaniel and Ophelia called Clarissa over to the side for a quiet word.
“Clarissa, when you two are out, stay safe, alright? And remember to bring back something nice,” her mother reminded softly.
Clarissa rolled her eyes. “I’m not a child, Mom. I know.”
They nodded, clearly satisfied, and let the pair leave.
Behind them, Dorian’s expression had gone cold. He had been standing nearby, and not a word of that exchange had escaped him.
Once Clarissa and Atticus were out of sight, he stepped forward and asked, voice calm but tight, “Mom, Dad. Where exactly are Clarissa and that boy going?”
Nathaniel chuckled lightly. “Oh, they’re just going on a trip! Didn’t you and Lyra go on one too?”
Ophelia chimed in, completely unaware of the shift in Dorian’s tone. “They’re heading to Farfadat. Beautiful this time of year.”
Dorian’s brow furrowed sharply, his lips parting slightly in disbelief. “Just the two of them?”
Both parents nodded without hesitation.
“Yes, it’ll be good for them to relax,” Ophelia said. “And besides, Clarissa isn’t going alone—Atticus will take care of her.”
As they continued chatting, they didn’t notice the flicker of darkness that crossed Dorian’s face.
......
“Dorian? Dorian?”
He snapped out of it, clearing his throat. “Hmm? What?”
Ophelia’s smile wavered slightly. “What’s gotten into you today? Are you and Lyra still not getting along?”
Her concern surfaced again. During dinner, Dorian and Lyra sat far apart, barely exchanged a word. Clarissa and Atticus, on the other hand, looked so naturally in sync.
Dorian’s chest tightened. He forced his face to remain impassive.
“No,” he said. “There’s no issue.” But then he stepped closer. “Still… how could you let Clarissa and Atticus go off alone like that?”
“It’s just a trip,” Nathaniel replied casually.
“Yes, and Clarissa’s not going alone. Atticus is a great travel companion,” Ophelia added.
“He’s strong and careful—and he’s always been there for her. Remember how sick Clarissa was after Clementine died? It was Atticus who stayed by her side through all of it. That boy would never hurt her.”
Dorian’s jaw tightened. Everyone around him had been taken in by that boy’s sweet face and gentle words. Even Clarissa… especially Clarissa.
They were all blind.
He took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Right. Anyway, I’ll take Lyra and head to my mother’s place now.”
“Alright,” Ophelia said with a motherly smile. “Just—don’t fight again, alright? You two really worry us.”
Dorian gave a slight nod. “Yes. We’ll be careful.”
........
Harrington Estate — Nightfall
The night air was cool and quiet, broken only by the soft clink of porcelain as Kira Harrington set her teacup back on its saucer.
She sat beneath the soft glow of the courtyard lanterns, every inch the elegant matriarch — poised, untouchable.
A pot of black tea steamed beside her, its scent sharp and bitter, much like her gaze as it flicked toward the woman standing silently before her.
Lyra stood like a statue, barely daring to breathe.
Kira’s voice sliced through the stillness like silk over steel.
“I heard you had a quarrel with Dorian… and ran back to your parents’ home?”
Lyra’s heart gave a sharp tug. Her fingers clenched unconsciously in her skirt as she lowered her head and forced her voice into something small and sweet.
“No… No, I just missed my parents. I went back to see them, that’s all.”
Kira’s gaze narrowed slightly, her lips curving in a faint, unreadable smile. “Is that so?”
The chill in her tone made Lyra’s knees feel weak. She trembled as she nodded, forcing conviction into her voice.
“Yes… If you don’t believe me, you can ask Dorian yourself…”
Kira’s smile widened — but it wasn’t warm. “Good. If Dorian says there was no fight, I’ll consider the matter settled.”
Lyra finally allowed herself a shallow breath of relief.
But then—
“I also heard… you resigned from your job recently.”
“…Yes.”
Kira’s expression didn’t change. “Where are you planning to go next? The Lancaster family business?”
“I—I’m not sure yet,” Lyra whispered. “I haven’t decided…”
Kira’s brows knit together with disdain. “No vision for your future?” She didn’t raise her voice. “Do you know what it takes to be the mistress of the Harrington family?”
“I…”
“Forget it. You don’t know.”
Lyra’s breath hitched. She bit down on her lip until it stung. Her hands gripped her skirt as tears swelled behind her lashes, unbidden.
Kira’s gaze sharpened, cool and impatient. “Don’t cry. That pathetic look won’t get you far here.”
A beat of silence passed.
“You studied music and art in university, didn’t you?”
“Yes…” Lyra murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Harrington Group has cultural investment projects. You’ll join one. I’ll arrange it.”
“But… my parents…”