Chapter156 – You frightened her
Atticus let out a soft laugh, soothing. "You’re just scaring yourself."
"I’m not lying! I saw her—a woman, her whole body covered in blood…"
The moment she said it, Atticus stilled. Something flickered in his gaze.
But just as quickly, he masked it and smiled again. "Well, I’m not sure what you saw. But if you’re scared, I’ll stay with you tonight."
He held her tighter, lowering his voice to a whisper right against her ear. "How about we sleep together, hmm?"
Clarissa’s entire body jolted. Her cheeks turned crimson as she pushed against his chest. "W-what nonsense are you saying? Let go of me!"
But Atticus wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip away so easily. He released her with a sigh and stood, turning away dramatically.
"Fine. I’ll leave then. But this room’s pretty soundproof... If something happens, and I’m not here to hear you scream—" he trailed off meaningfully.
As he stepped toward the door, Clarissa instinctively reached out, grabbing the back of his shirt.
"Don’t..." she said softly.
Atticus smiled to himself, satisfied. He turned back and scooped her into his arms without hesitation. "Then I’m staying."
He gently tucked her back into bed, then sat beside her, brushing her hair away from her forehead with a tenderness.
"Sweetheart," he whispered, "do you think I’m some kind of beast? You’re terrified—I’d never take advantage of you like that. Just sleep."
Clarissa gazed up at him, her heart pounding. "Atticus..."
"Sleep," he said gently, his voice like velvet. "I’ll be right here. I’ll leave after you fall asleep."
Blushing again, Clarissa turned over, curling into the covers. Her heart felt warm now, steady.
With Atticus by her side, her fears faded quickly into the dark.
And this time, sleep came easily.
Atticus leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Clarissa’s lips before quietly slipping out of the room.
The hallway was cloaked in silence as he made his way to the elevator. After descending to the lower floor, he stepped out—and immediately saw David waiting.
“Mr. Atticus,” David greeted him, polite as ever.
Atticus glanced toward the heavy, antique door nearby and smiled faintly. “Is Mr. Gabriel available now?”
David hesitated. “Might need to wait a bit longer.”
Atticus nodded and stepped aside. “I understand.”
But before another word could be exchanged, a deep voice called out from within the room. “Is that Mr. Atticus?”
“Yes, sir,” David responded.
There was a pause. Then, Gabriel’s voice again: “Let him in.”
David immediately stepped forward and pushed open the ornate door.
Atticus walked in and was greeted by the sight of Gabriel sitting by the tall French windows, a crystal goblet in hand. The deep red liquid inside shimmered under the moonlight.
Gabriel didn’t look at him at first—his eyes were fixed on the horizon, staring into the silver-washed night. “Mr. Atticus, is this visit about your fiancée?”
“You frightened her,” Atticus said calmly. “She doesn’t know anything and won’t say a word.”
Gabriel’s lips curved into a soft, almost nostalgic smile. “She’s a sweet and delicate young woman. A true gentleman would never drag someone like that into our world.”
He finally turned his gaze to Atticus. “And... I must thank you again. For the first time in over twenty years, I could see the sunrise.”
“Though only last one day,” he added with a trace of bitter humor.
Knowing Clarissa would be safe, Atticus bowed slightly. “I’m honored my medicine could offer some relief. It’s getting late—I should excuse myself.”
He turned to leave when Gabriel’s voice stopped him.
“One moment.”
Atticus paused. “Yes?”
Gabriel looked directly at him now, his eyes intense. “Tell me the truth. Is there really no way to cure this disease completely?”
Atticus's expression didn’t change. “My knowledge is limited. I don’t have the ability yet. My teacher... perhaps. But he’s aged, and it wouldn’t be easy to bring him here.”
Gabriel nodded slowly, then took a long sip from his glass. “Mr. Atticus, I’d like to make another deal with you.”
......
The next morning, Clarissa woke to the soft sound of Atticus’s voice.
“Sister... time to get up. Breakfast is ready.”
“Mmm... I’m not hungry,” Clarissa mumbled, burying her face in his chest like a sleepy kitten. “It’s a vacation...”
Atticus chuckled, his voice full of warmth as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Alright. Sleep a little longer. I’ll bring something up later.”
He tucked the blanket around her gently, lingering for a moment before quietly leaving the room.
Just outside, a cold voice greeted him. “Atticus. What a clever bastard.”
Atticus paused, then smirked as he turned to face the speaker. “Mr. Dorian. You don’t look happy this morning.”
“You piece of shit,” Dorian growled. “You think you’ve won just because she slept with you? When she finds out who you really are, she’ll leave you without hesitation.”
Atticus shrugged lazily, his tone amused and laced with mockery. “Let me guess… it’s because she said I’m younger and prettier than you. Jealous?”
“You bastard!” Dorian’s face twisted in fury, and he lunged forward, ready to strike.
Atticus dodged effortlessly. “Careful. Didn’t you learn anything the last time?”
He turned to go, but Dorian spat, “Getting close to the Loxley family—that’s your real game.”
Atticus stopped walking and turned his head slightly. “Aren’t you, Mr. Dorian?”
“I swear,” Dorian growled, “as long as I’m alive, you’ll never get what you want.”
Atticus pulled something from his pocket and held it up—a small digital recorder. He pressed play.
> “Atticus, as long as I’m around, you’ll never succeed.”
"If I give this recording to Clarissa...."
"You!"
He let it play for a second longer before clicking it off and calmly placing it into Dorian’s hand.
“You can keep it,” he said with a faint smile.
Dorian stood frozen, humiliated, as Atticus added with a quiet finality, “You’re nearly thirty. Go back to your wife, stop clinging to the past. Clarissa deserves better.”
Then he turned and walked away.
Dorian stared at the recorder in his palm, his hand trembling.
With a snarl, he crushed it in his fist and slammed it to the floor, watching it shatter.
This bastard had been playing tricks on him just now, and no one had ever dared to do this to him!
“Atticus!” he snarled under his breath. “You’ll pay for this. I swear it.”
.......
At the breakfast table, Atticus tore off a piece of crusty bread, dipped it lightly into a spoonful of jam, and placed it in his mouth.
The sweetness hit his tongue like a punch. His brows knit in distaste as he chewed quickly and swallowed. Without a word, he rose from his seat, picked up a plate, and headed back upstairs, completely ignoring the others.
Dorian watched the young man’s retreating back with barely concealed disdain. Turning toward David, he muttered under his breath, “Why on earth would your host invite such a rude, uncultured brat?”
Before David could respond, another voice cut in—cool and collected.
“With your status, Mr. Dorian, I wouldn’t expect you to be so undignified,” said Lawrence, sipping his coffee without even glancing up.
Dorian’s jaw tightened, his stare cold and sharp as steel. “And what does that have to do with you?”
But before tensions could escalate, the rhythmic tapping of heels on the staircase drew everyone’s attention.
Mrs. Rose entered, her silk robe trailing behind her and her painted lips stretched in a catlike yawn. She waved a delicate folding fan in front of her face and offered a teasing smile. “Apologies for being late..”
David stood and courteously pulled out her chair. She sat with a rustle of satin, her eyes casually scanning the table. Clarissa and Atticus were both absent.