Chapter193 – I’ll take you back
Clarissa froze for a second, then looked up—and saw the glint in his eyes.
That heat. That familiar intensity.
“I—Delilah’s waiting outside,” she murmured, flustered. “Maybe… maybe when I come back—”
She didn’t even finish before she saw the way his eyes softened, pleading.
She sighed helplessly. Raising her hand, she brushed his cheek with her fingertips, then leaned in on her toes and kissed him lightly on the lips.
“There. Is that enough?”
Atticus’s lips curved. He licked them slowly, eyes darkening with need.
“Silly Clarissa… you think that’s enough?”
Before she could move, he swept her up in his arms and spun, pressing her down onto the bed—on top of the half-packed clothes.
“This is what I wanted.”
His mouth crashed against hers, hot and hungry, stealing her breath in one savage kiss.
An unknown amount of time passed before Clarissa finally stepped back from him, panting, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson.
Atticus leaned over, eyes glinting with amusement, and let out a soft, almost mischievous chuckle.
Clarissa, a little annoyed, shoved him lightly. “Let me go!”
When Atticus finally released her, she quickly stood up and glanced down at her chest and collarbone. Sure enough—a series of faint marks marred her smooth, fair skin. They weren’t deep, but anyone could tell, at a glance, that she’d been through something intense.
“I told you not to leave marks…” she muttered angrily, thinking of what might happen if Phoenix ever saw them. They could very well end up in another fight over it.
Atticus’s eyes followed her as she fussed with her clothes, a playful glint dancing in his gaze. He stepped forward and brushed a soft kiss across her cheek.
“Don’t stay away too long,” he murmured. “I’ll miss you every day…”
Clarissa froze. He always had a way of speaking so sweetly, so effortlessly coaxing feelings out of her. Even after all this time, his words could still make her chest tighten.
Her gaze flicked to him again, catching the faint trace of reluctance still lingering in his eyes. Her heart warmed.
They had been apart for a long time—he’d been studying abroad, training, attending school events, competing—but back then, they were just like ordinary siblings. She had only ever told him to stay safe.
Things were different now. Their relationship had changed.
Finally, she reached out and hugged him tightly. Her voice softened, full of care.
“Take care of yourself when you’re alone. Don’t overwork. Eat on time. Go to bed early. And if anything happens… call me right away.”
Even though she knew Atticus was the kind of boy who could handle himself, she couldn’t help pouring all her worries into her words.
By the time she finally left, an hour had passed. Delilah, who had finished off all the snacks and fruit in the living room, had fallen asleep on the sofa.
Clarissa called her softly, and Delilah blinked awake, still groggy.
Looking at her dazed face, Clarissa felt a bit helpless. This girl didn’t seem to realize the most important thing had just happened.
Delilah wiped the corner of her mouth, still drooling slightly, and mumbled, “Clarissa… you brought so many things. It felt like forever carrying them. I almost fell asleep.”
Clarissa flushed lightly, a mix of embarrassment and guilt. After all… she and Atticus had just been in the room, and they had spent quite a while there.
Thankfully, Delilah was simple-minded and didn’t think anything more of it.
Clarissa exhaled in relief and reached for her hand. “Let’s go.”
“Okay!” Delilah said brightly.
Behind her, Atticus silently followed, carrying Clarissa’s suitcase. His gaze was calm now, but it lingered just a little too long.
Delilah, noticing him, edged closer.
“Atticus… you like Clarissa, don’t you? I was wondering why you’re always so fond of her.”
She had liked him from the moment they met—they were close in age. She often taught him to play the flute, shared little meals, and over the years, their bond had only grown stronger.
Atticus glanced at her. “Did you find your flute?”
Delilah’s smile faltered. “No…”
He smirked lightly. “But Master probably doesn’t have the energy to care about that right now. His attention is all on me.”
Delilah froze for a moment, then giggled. “Ah, it seems so. Atticus… you’re amazing. Everett said you’re brave. Phoenix adores Clarissa, and you actually kissed her right in front of Phoenix. She didn’t kill you—but damn, you’re strong. I wonder… what kind of person could actually beat you? How about you try Kitty next time?”
Clarissa, standing beside her, flushed violently. Her lips twitched in exasperation. This girl really didn’t hold back at all.
Unexpectedly, Atticus’s interest seemed piqued. “Okay. Next time, Kitty it is.”
“Atticus!” Clarissa exclaimed, glaring at him. He was insane! Kitty was a tiger! How could a human possibly face such a ferocious beast?
Atticus grinned mischievously. “Relax, Clarissa. I’m joking. Don’t take it seriously.”
“It *better* be a joke,” she muttered, withdrawing her gaze and turning her attention to the two beside her, worry knitting her brows.
Is it really okay for him to be like this? She worried. He was still a boy in some ways, but old enough now that it didn’t seem right to control him further.
By the time they reached the parking lot, the group was finally ready to leave.
Atticus set Clarissa’s suitcase into the trunk. The moment he closed it, he turned, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes, and pulled her into his arms.
Clarissa blinked, startled. “Atticus?”
“I’ll come for you,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Whether it’s my master, my grandfather, or Lancaster’s parents—I’ll make them all accept me. Accept us. Just wait for me to marry you, Clarissa.”
Her eyes grew damp. She slipped her arm around his waist and whispered, “Yes. I believe you.”
Her Atticus was brilliant. How could anyone not like him?
His lips curved faintly as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll come pick you up soon.”
Clarissa shook her head. “No. Wait until I get back. I’ll talk to Phoenix first. In the meantime, you’d better behave yourself.”
Atticus only smiled and nodded. “I will.”
But as the car pulled away, the smile drained from his face. His eyes hardened, and his voice dropped to a murmur only he could hear. “Enjoy yourself while you can, Clarissa. Once I’m finished here, I’ll take you back.”
......
When Clarissa returned, she found Phoenix in the courtyard, quietly brewing tea.
Tea had always been one of Phoenix’s little obsessions; she collected rare blends from every corner of the world.
“Phoenix…” Clarissa called softly.
The woman looked up, instantly tugging her to sit. “Come here. Did Atticus say anything to you?”
Clarissa smiled, shaking her head. “No. But—he asked me to bring you this.” She pulled out a small package. “It’s medicine for your injuries. He said it’ll help you heal faster. He really does care. Please don’t stay angry at him, alright?”
Phoenix eyed the medicine in her hand, hesitation flickering across her expression before she finally sighed and accepted it. “Clarissa, I’m not angry. I’m worried. Atticus isn’t as simple as you think.”
As a friend, Atticus was fine—so long as you didn’t cross him. But in matters of love? That was another story. Phoenix’s heart clenched with unease.
Clarissa knew exactly what she meant. She nodded, but her voice was steady. “I understand.”
“No, you don’t.” Phoenix let out another long sigh.
Clarissa leaned forward. “Phoenix, I know my limits. I’ve seen how much he’s changed over the years. He’s suffered a lot—his childhood shaped him into what he is. That’s why I want to stay by his side. To take care of him. When he’s alright, I’m happy.”
Phoenix stared at her, a pang running through her chest. After a long silence, she managed a bitter smile. “You’re too soft. Sooner or later, that kindness will get tricked.”
The word tricked made Clarissa’s fingers tighten against her skirt. For a moment, she thought of the words Atticus had whispered to her in Farfadat. But she quickly loosened her grip, lifted her head, and smiled faintly. “Even so, I still want to trust him. Just once. Phoenix, you’ve watched him grow up too. You’ve seen how dedicated and hardworking he is. Whatever else he is, he’s never harmed the people he cares about. You raised him. You should believe in him as well.”
Phoenix lowered her gaze to the medicine resting on the table. Memories surged—their shared years, the harshness and brilliance of the boy she’d seen grow into a man.
No matter how ruthless he could be with others, he had never once laid a hand on Clarissa. Only Clarissa could make him yield.
“Clarissa…”
Her eyes lifted, soft and radiant. Time had only made her more beautiful—today, in a simple white blouse and loose linen trousers, her hair tied back in a ponytail, she seemed even fresher, more striking than before. And she looked happy.
Phoenix reached across the table, clasping her hand. “Clarissa, are you truly happy now?”
Clarissa nodded without hesitation. “Yes. I have Atticus, I have you, and I have my parents. I’m very happy.”
Phoenix’s lips curved into a smile, though her eyes betrayed the storm within. She lowered them, inhaled deeply, and let it out slowly.
“…Then so be it. If that’s what you want—if it makes you happy—then I won’t stand in your way.”
......
That night, Clarissa, worn out from the day, had long since retreated to her room.
In the study, Phoenix sat rigidly in her chair as the doctor unwound the bandages from her wound, while Maximilian stood nearby, quietly reading aloud the missing reports. Phoenix listened, only breaking her silence to ask pointed questions.
When the wound had been cleaned and the doctor reached for fresh medicine, Phoenix cut in.
“Use this,” she said, pushing two small boxes across the desk.
The doctor blinked. “This is…?”
“Atticus brought them.” Phoenix’s tone was flat, betraying nothing.
The doctor understood instantly. Atticus’s medical skills were legendary. If not for the bitter tension between him and Phoenix, he might never have been called here at all.
Just as the doctor prepared to apply the ointment, Maximilian stepped forward. “Wait. Check the medicine first.”
The doctor frowned. “There’s no need. If it came from Atticus, it’s the best you’ll find for wound care.”
“Check it anyway,” Maximilian insisted coldly. “Phoenix’s safety comes first. We don’t gamble with untested remedies.”
The doctor glanced at Phoenix for direction. She was silent for a beat, then gave a slight wave of her hand. “Do it.”
The doctor sighed, but complied. He opened the boxes and carefully examined both the internal and external treatments.
“Well?” Maximilian pressed.
“They’re flawless. Non-toxic, perfectly balanced. This one’s Callum’s secret formula—you bleed from an artery, this will clot it completely within ten minutes. Worth more than its weight in gold. People would kill to get their hands on this. And most would fail.”
The doctor’s voice was tinged with envy, his eyes lingering hungrily on the bottles. He longed to pocket them for study. Many had tried to reproduce Callum’s recipes, but no one had ever succeeded.