Chapter199 – I’m teasing you
“No?” He lifted a brow. “The victim worked for you. And look at this—” he waved a report in his hand. “Four million in unpaid taxes. What’s the story, huh? She cooked the books to frame you, then conveniently stabbed herself in the chest? Doesn’t make sense, does it?”
Oriana froze, glancing helplessly at Clarissa.
Clarissa’s face drained of color, but she steadied herself, lifting her chin. “We’ll cooperate with a full investigation. There’s clearly more to this than meets the eye. I trust the police to uncover the truth.”
Zachary’s lips curved in a smug smile. “I hope so. But if you need anything… you know where to find me.”
Clarissa’s pulse was pounding when a familiar figure stepped into view. Atticus. Relief surged through her, and before she could think twice, she was in his arms.
“Atticus…”
He wrapped her close, his hand rubbing slow circles on her back. “It’s okay. I’m here.” His voice was low, steady—but there was steel beneath it.
Clarissa felt the heat of stares all around them and, embarrassed, quickly pulled away. “I’m fine. ” But even as she said it, her body betrayed her, trembling uncontrollably.
Atticus caught her arm, steadying her. “Sit down for a while.”
He guided her to a seat, brushing a reassuring hand over her shoulder. “Stay here. I’ll check the body.”
“…Okay.” Clarissa nodded, watching him disappear through the crowd.
Atticus crouched by the corpse, his expression grim. “The liver’s still warm, livor mortis only on the back, and the blood on the chest already drying. Death was within the last eight hours. No signs of a struggle. The killer was probably someone she knew.”
An officer nearby shifted uneasily. “Atticus… could this tie back to Miss Clarissa?”
Phoenix had left explicit orders. It hadn’t even been a week, and already this mess…
A dangerous glint flashed in Atticus’s eyes. “This is a fucking setup. We’ll find who’s behind it.”
“But… all the evidence points to her.”
Atticus turned his head sharply. “You want to arrest her?”
The man raised his hands in panic. “No, of course not. I mean—the company’s under investigation. It’ll get shut down. I’m worried about how Miss Clarissa will take it.”
Atticus stilled. Clarissa had poured everything into this company, watching it finally bloom. Now, one blow like this could cripple it. Even if she was cleared, the damage would linger. Whoever orchestrated this knew exactly where to strike.
His jaw tightened. He could hunt them down easily enough. But Clarissa… she was the one who’d bear the fallout.
Shoving the file aside, he strode back toward the hall.
There she was, sitting alone, her face pale and lost. His chest clenched. He crossed the room in three strides and pulled her into his arms.
“Clarissa…”
The warmth of his scent broke through her haze. She blinked up at him, eyes wide. “Atticus—you’re back. What did you find?”
“The preliminary call is homicide. I’ll get my people on the financials. Don’t worry—I’ll track down the bastard behind this.”
Clarissa exhaled shakily. “I believe you, but…”
He knew what she couldn’t bring herself to say. He caught her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her fingertips. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle everything. The company won’t fall. I swear it.”
Her breath caught. The boy she remembered was gone. In his place stood a man—strong, unflinching, someone she could lean on. Her eyes softened, and she wrapped her arms around him.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I believe you.”
Atticus’s hand slid through her hair, gentle, reassuring. But over her shoulder, his eyes gleamed with a cold, ruthless light.
The police had shut down the company, and Clarissa was now back at the Wraith estate, waiting for news.
Butler Xerxes had heard what happened and was already waiting at the door when she arrived.
“Miss Clarissa, are you alright? I’ll inform Master Phoenix immediately—she would return at once.”
Clarissa shook her head. “Phoenix is away on business. Don’t disturb her. I’ll figure out a way to handle this.”
Xerxes hesitated, worry written across his face, until Atticus stepped forward from behind her.
“Leave it to me,” Atticus said, his tone calm. “You don’t have to worry.”
The old butler relaxed a little at the sight of him. “Then I’ll trust this matter to Mr. Atticus. As for Master Phoenix…”
“No need,” Atticus cut him off smoothly. “I’ll take care of everything myself. Just focus on Clarissa. I’ll be back later to see her.”
“Yes, sir,” Xerxes agreed. He guided Clarissa into the estate, and—seeing her mood—arranged a medicinal bath, light refreshments, and soothing incense for her rooms.
After her bath, Clarissa sat with a cup of tea. Warm steam curled against her face, and for the first time that day, she felt her nerves ease just a little.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Xerxes smiled kindly. “Miss Clarissa, it’s my duty to take care of you. Are you feeling any better now?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “Much better.”
He studied her for a moment, then sighed. “You’ve grown so much. Starting a company on your own—that’s no small thing. Don’t worry. This will all be resolved.”
After a few more words of comfort, he quietly excused himself.
Left alone, Clarissa stared at the incense smoke curling upward.
With the money she still had, she could start another company easily enough. But this one… this one she had built with her own hands. It wasn’t just business; it was proof she could break away from the Lancaster family and live on her own terms. She couldn’t simply let it be destroyed.
Her fingers curled into fists.
Just then, her phone rang from inside her bag.
Clarissa frowned, startled. Who would call her at this hour?
She pulled the phone out. The number was unknown.
“Hello?”
A man’s voice answered, low and mocking. “Ms. Clarissa, you’re having a rough time, aren’t you? You wanted to strike out on your own, so capable, so independent… and now you’re wrapped up in a murder case. I wonder what people will say. Your company, the one you worked so hard for, looks like it’s finished. And tell me—will the Lancaster family lift a finger for a fake daughter like you?”
The voice was familiar. Zachary.
Her tone went icy. “What the hell do you want? I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”
He laughed softly, the sound grating. Clarissa nearly hung up, but his voice stopped her.
“Don’t be so quick. I’m here to help you.”
She gave a sharp laugh. “You expect me to believe that?”
“Believe me or don’t. I don’t care. But I can drag this out for months if I feel like it. Two months, your company’s dead in the water—innocent or not. You know I’m right.”
Clarissa inhaled slowly, forcing herself to stay calm. “…What do you want?”
“It’s not something to discuss over the phone. Three nights from now, Opal Room. Come alone, and I’ll explain. Miss Clarissa, you won’t want to miss it.”
Silence stretched. Then Clarissa said, cold and steady, “Fine. I’ll be there.”
“You really are a smart woman,” he said with amusement. “See you in three days.”
The line went dead.
Clarissa lowered the phone, staring at the black screen. Her eyes glinted with ice.
She rose abruptly, breath tight in her chest, and stepped out into the corridor for air.
When Atticus returned, he found her sitting by the lake in the Wraith family’s garden, her gaze fixed on the lotus flowers drifting on the water.
Moonlight bathed her face, her profile soft and luminous, as though painted in silver.
A shadow flickered through Atticus’s eyes as he crossed to her side. He slipped an arm around her, pulling her gently against him.
“There’s a heavy dew tonight. Don’t catch a chill.”
He caught her hand, and his brow furrowed at the coldness of her fingertips.
Clarissa looked up. His dark eyes held hers, steady, filled with a tenderness that was hers alone. Her heart skipped, and she leaned into him, greedy for his warmth.
“With you here,” she whispered, “I won’t.”
For a moment, his expression froze. Then a faint smile curved his lips. “You’re right.”
The next instant, he swept her up into his arms without warning and carried her toward the house.
Clarissa sat on the edge of the bed, nerves prickling through her as she looked up at him with wide, uncertain eyes.
Atticus smirked, kicked off his shoes, and stretched out beside her. He pulled her into his arms, her soft body tense against his chest.
Sensing her stiffness, he leaned in and brushed a kiss across her forehead. His voice dropped, low and gentle. “Relax. Just sleep.”
She blinked at him, startled by the tenderness.
Atticus caught the confusion in her gaze and chuckled softly. “Why are you looking at me like that? What… did you think I was going to do to you, sister?”
Before she could react, he pressed her down playfully. Clarissa gasped and instinctively tried to push him away. “W–wait a second—”
Seeing the panic flash across her face, Atticus laughed outright. “Silly girl. I’m teasing you.”
He rolled off, putting space between them, before pulling her back into his arms in a gentler embrace. “Go to sleep. I’ll keep watch.”
Her nerves slowly eased. The exhaustion of the day settled heavy in her bones, but her heart was still restless. His voice, warm and velvety, wrapped around her like silk threads, binding her closer until she couldn’t resist leaning into him.
“Atticus… thank you,” she whispered.
A mischievous light glimmered in his eyes. “Thank me? Clarissa, when you thank someone, you should show a little sincerity.”
She shot him a glare, cheeks flushed at his shamelessness. But then, gathering her courage, she reached up, cupped his face, and kissed him.
Atticus froze, breath catching. This was the first time Clarissa had kissed him—truly kissed him—while awake. A rush of heat surged through him. He deepened the kiss, pressing her down beneath him.
By the time they pulled apart, both were gasping for air, breaths mingling.
He laced his fingers through hers and whispered hoarsely, “Clarissa… will you be mine?”
Her lips were still damp, her eyes heavy-lidded and intoxicating. She found herself smiling faintly. “Do you really need me to answer that now?”
“Yes.” His voice was firm, desperate. “I want to hear it from you. Tell me you love me. Tell me you’ll be mine—completely.”
His intensity left no room for evasion. Clarissa looked at him, her chest tightening. Then she held his face in her hands and spoke clearly, softly: “I love you. I want to be your woman. Is that enough?”
Something dark and bright flickered in his eyes before he crushed his lips against hers again.