Chapter195 – Mark
“Right away.” Oriana returned after about ten minutes, looking faintly annoyed. “Apparently, he just wandered in after hearing we were hiring. He has the looks and the body, sure, but honestly? He’s rough around the edges. Smells like he hasn’t showered, probably never even finished high school, and those clothes—” she glanced back toward him, wrinkling her nose “—are falling apart. We told him to leave, but he’s insisting on a chance. Do you want me to call security?”
Clarissa shook her head before Oriana could even finish. “No. Bring him in.”
“What?” Oriana blinked, startled.
“I’ll handle this one myself,” Clarissa said evenly.
Her secretary hesitated but didn’t argue. Clarissa wasn’t a woman who made decisions lightly. Oriana gave a quick nod and went to fetch him. A moment later, the silver-haired man followed her inside.
Up close, Clarissa realized the man’s eyes were striking—like rippling glass touched by mist, elusive yet magnetic.
His clothes were plain, even shabby, but they couldn’t hide the charisma that radiated from him. Clarissa could tell immediately: with a bit of polish, he’d be dazzling.
She offered him a small smile. “Please, have a seat.”
“Thanks…” For a moment, his eyes flickered with something unreadable as they lingered on her.
Clarissa hesitated, then asked, “You came for the interview. Did you bring a résumé?”
“Résumé?” He gave a crooked smile. “I came in a rush, so I didn’t prepare one. But I can write one now if you want.”
Oriana, her secretary, frowned at that, unimpressed. She opened her mouth to object, but Clarissa cut her off with a subtle gesture. Reaching for a blank form from the stack on her desk, she slid it toward him. “Ten minutes enough?”
“One’s plenty.” He took the pen and paper from her, immediately bending over to fill it out.
Oriana shot Clarissa a worried look, but Clarissa only waved it off.
True to his word, he finished in under a minute and handed it back. Clarissa skimmed it, eyebrows arching when she reached the top.
Name: Mark. Age: 25.
Her gaze dropped lower, and a smile tugged at her lips when she read his note under “Skills”:
You can test me however you want. I can handle anything.
What a cocky bastard. She looked up at him. “You sure about that?”
“Yeah. If I can’t deliver, I’ll walk out on my own.”
After a moment of silence, Clarissa nodded. “Alright then. Come with me.”
Mark followed without hesitation, leaving Oriana staring after them, completely baffled.
At the audition hall, Clarissa stopped by the piano. “Can you play?”
“Yes.”
He sat down, fingers poised over the keys. “What do you want to hear?”
“Adelina by the Water,” she said after a pause.
The next second, notes flowed through the room—fluid, flawless, unexpectedly moving. Clarissa wasn’t the only one startled; the people around her froze, listening.
When the last note faded, Clarissa asked, “Can you sing?”
“Yes.”
“Guitar?”
“Yes.”
“Dance?”
“Yes.”
She kept going—throwing out skill after skill: theater, stage presence, movement. And every time, he simply nodded, “Yes.”
Oriana finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Ms. Clarissa…”
Her voice pulled Clarissa back from her little frenzy. She cleared her throat, gestured for the others to return to work, then took the evaluation sheet Oriana had been jotting down.
Every category had been marked “Excellent.” It was ridiculous—he was a natural-born performer.
Clarissa looked up at him again. “And your education background…?”
He tilted his head. “I think my skills speak louder than any diploma. Do grades really matter here?”
“It’s procedure,” Clarissa explained calmly. “We don’t disclose employee information, but the records are required.”
Mark thought for a second, then shrugged. “Fine. I never finished junior high.”
Oriana’s gasp was immediate. “Junior high? That low?”
Clarissa ignored her. “You’re obviously a fast learner. Why didn’t you keep studying?”
His expression hardened. “Family issues. I dropped out. Dig up private shit?”
“That’s enough,” Clarissa said softly. Then her eyes swept over him again, lingering on the scruff covering his jaw. “Can you shave?”
“My beard?” He touched his stubble, then smirked. “Forgot about that. Honestly, I haven’t showered in three days.”
Oriana wrinkled her nose in open disgust, but Clarissa only chuckled. “Take him to the showers,” she told Oriana. “And have the stylist clean him up.”
Oriana looked utterly disgusted, but under Clarissa’s orders she had no choice but to take the guy away with her.
Once Mark left, Clarissa’s attention shifted to Delilah, who was crouched with half a tub of Häagen-Dazs in her lap. Clarissa’s face darkened immediately. She reached over and tried to snatch it.
“Don’t eat so much ice cream. Hand it over, now.”
Startled, Delilah darted away, clutching the bucket protectively. “No…”
Her wary, almost feral look made Clarissa want to laugh and cry all at once. “Delilah, be good. That much ice cream will wreck your stomach.”
“No!” Delilah shook her head stubbornly, like a child refusing medicine.
Clarissa’s tone hardened. “If you keep this up, I won’t buy you another one next time.”
That did the trick. Delilah’s face fell, and after a long pause she reluctantly handed it over. Clarissa stuffed the tub into the studio’s fridge, then turned back to the girl—who now looked like she was on the verge of tears. Sighing, Clarissa softened, stepping forward to ruffle her hair. “I’ll take you out for dinner later, okay?”
Delilah lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry, Clarissa.”
“Don’t be silly. Why are you apologizing over something like this?”
“It’s just… it was so good. I couldn’t control myself.”
Clarissa blinked in surprise. “Don’t you have this kind of thing back in Wraith?”
Delilah shook her head. “I rarely go back here. My master only sends me down the mountain when Phoenix is in trouble. Once the mission’s done, I’m sent straight back. This is the first time I’ve been away so long.”
That tugged at Clarissa’s heart. “Alright. I’ll treat you to something special later. Save the ice cream for tomorrow, yeah?”
That one line had Delilah grinning ear to ear. “Okay! Clarissa, you’re the best.”
Clarissa couldn’t help laughing. The girl was so easily bribed with food, like a little stray that might get lured away by the first stranger who offered snacks.
An hour later, Oriana returned with Mark in tow, looking more animated than usual.
“Ms. Clarissa!”
Clarissa turned, her eyes lighting up at the sight.
She had hand-picked the stylist, so of course the result was flawless. With his beard gone, Mark’s face was startlingly handsome. Long silver hair framed features that were almost too perfect, giving him a look that was both refined and rebellious.
Oriana stepped closer. “Ms. Clarissa, what do you think?”
“Very good,” Clarissa said simply. “Sit down.”
Mark lowered himself into the chair across from her, smiling faintly. “I feel much better after that shower. Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Honestly, if you hadn’t cleaned up well, I wouldn’t have hired you.”
His smile deepened, voice carrying a teasing lilt. “Then I guess I’m lucky.”
Clarissa picked up her pen and started making notes. “Any salary expectations?”
“I don’t care much. Just don’t let me starve.”
“Alright. Base salary, six grand. Commissions on commercials, TV spots, that kind of thing.”
“Sounds fine,” Mark said with a nod. Then, almost as an afterthought: “Oh, and… can I get a three-month advance?”
Clarissa’s pen stilled. “Why?”
“I’m broke. No place to live. And I owe… let’s just say over a hundred grand in gambling debts.”
Oriana’s expression turned sour instantly, barely hiding her disgust. Was this guy for real? Could someone like that be trusted at all?
Clarissa stayed quiet for a moment, weighing it. “Three months is too much. I’ll give you one month in advance, max.”
Mark’s grin returned, casual as ever. “Good enough.”
She slid the contract toward him. “Sign here.”
Without even glancing at the terms, he scribbled his name.
When Mark was gone, Oriana finally blurted out what she’d been holding back. “Ms. Clarissa, are you sure about this? The man’s drowning in gambling debt. If he drags us into his mess, it’ll be a nightmare.”
Clarissa’s lips curved. “I think he’s got enormous potential. He’ll make the company a fortune.”
Her good mood was obvious—rare enough that Phoenix noticed it the second they got back. “What’s got you smiling like that today?”
“Nothing,” Clarissa said, brushing it off. “Just found someone promising.”
Phoenix smirked, but after a beat asked, “Clarissa, are the Lancasters treating you that badly? Is that why you’re suddenly determined to start your own company? Did they decide to hand everything over to Lyra?”
“I don’t want it,” Clarissa said flatly. “I don’t want anything to do with Lyra or the rest of them ever again.”
Clarissa felt things were starting to slip out of her control. To keep unnecessary trouble at bay, she decided it was best to avoid further contact with them.
Phoenix thought it over and nodded. “Makes sense. It’s better to rely on yourself. I’ve never liked that bastard Dorian anyway. And as for Lyra…”
She paused, then shook her head. “Forget it. Let them rot. If you run into problems later, just come to me. I won’t let you depend on anyone else. Are you strapped for cash? If you need money, just tell me.”
“I’m fine. I’ve saved up enough over the years to get by for a while. By the way… how’s Atticus?”
“Atticus?” Phoenix gave her a look, half exasperated, half amused. “It hasn’t even been that long since you two were apart, and you’re already pining for him?”
Clarissa flushed, a little embarrassed. “No, I was just asking about work…”
It was his first day on the job, and she felt guilty for not being there. Phoenix sighed and gave in. “Relax. No cases came in today, so he’s had it easy. You can stop worrying now.”
Clarissa finally let out a breath of relief, but then another thought popped into her head. “But it’s so hot… um, won’t it… smell?”
Phoenix froze with her cup in hand, then burst out laughing. “Oh my god, Clarissa—you’re adorable. Of course corpses smell. They don’t exactly give off perfume.”
Seeing her turn pale, Phoenix couldn’t resist pushing it further. “And trust me, stinking is the least of it. You’ve never seen what I’ve seen. Once, a murderer wrapped a body tight in plastic. By the time we found it, the whole thing was crawling with maggots. When they cut it open, the smell hit like a fucking wall—half the guys fainted, and the flesh was already rotting—”
“Phoenix!” Clarissa’s face went white as a sheet. “Stop talking…”
Phoenix chuckled, slipped an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop. Don’t worry, Atticus can handle it. I was just teasing you.”
“You!” Clarissa glared at her, helpless but not truly angry. “You’re about to become head of the family, and you’re still so crude.”
“I’m right here, aren’t I?” Phoenix pushed a bowl of soup toward her. “Here, drink this. I had it made for you—it’s supposed to be especially good for women.”