Chapter204 – Atticus… I want you
Atticus didn’t flinch. He pulled a folded document from his jacket and set it on the table with deliberate care. His tone was almost casual. “This is the lab report from yesterday. There were traces of a restricted drug in the wine glass found at the scene.”
Zachary’s lips curled. “So what? Maybe someone thought she was a prostitute and slipped it in. Doesn’t mean it was me.” His eyes flicked toward Clarissa with a lewd glint.
Atticus’s expression chilled. He pushed Clarissa behind him and slapped the report flat against the table.
“You made a mistake. Whoever gave you the drug forgot to mention it’s completely banned on the market. That means anyone in possession of it has already committed a crime. If I dig into your travel history, I wonder what else I’ll find.”
Zachary scoffed, though a flicker of unease crossed his face. “At worst, charge me with buying illegal drugs. I’ll pay the fine, do a little time. I’ve got money.”
Atticus’s smile was razor sharp. “The substance stays in the bloodstream for seventy-two hours. I can test Clarissa’s blood right now. Care to see what comes up?”
This time, Zachary blanched. Sweat prickled along his forehead.
The officer leaned forward instantly. “Zachary, what else are you hiding? Why frame Miss Clarissa? Were you planning to kill her? Speak!”
Zachary slammed his palm on the table and snarled, “I just wanted to fuck her, alright? That’s it! Her company’s mess has nothing to do with me. Charge me with attempted rape, with trafficking—whatever the hell you want. She’s still breathing. I’ll serve a year, maybe three. Then I’ll walk free.”
The room erupted in outrage. Even the officers looked ready to leap across the table.
Atticus only smiled faintly, eyes dark as ice. Then, without another word, he turned, dragging Clarissa with him.
Out in the hall, Clarissa tugged against his hold. “Atticus, are we really letting him go like that? We need another plan—something stronger—”
Her chest ached with fury. Zachary’s shamelessness was beyond anything she’d imagined, but she also blamed herself. She’d been reckless, too impatient. Even if her company reopened tomorrow, the one pulling the strings was still in the shadows.
Atticus stopped, facing her with calm certainty. “Clarissa. Your part is done. Leave the rest to me. Once he’s sentenced, I’ll drag the real culprit into the light.”
She blinked at him, still uncertain, until his hand brushed her lips, silencing her.
“Trust me. Or do you still think I’m unreliable?”
Her answer came without hesitation. “Of course not.” She sighed, softer now. “I believe you.”
At last, his smile reached his eyes. “Good. Then go home and rest. Don’t return to the company until I say so. I’ll take care of everything.”
Worry lingered in her gaze. “Then… what are you planning?”
His smile turned sly, secretive. “That’s my secret.”
Before she could press, Atticus shoved her gently into the empty hallway. The next second, his mouth was on hers, swallowing her questions whole.
Clarissa’s knees buckled at the sudden heat, her body collapsing against him. His arm locked firmly around her waist, pulling her closer, as the kiss deepened into something that left her dizzy and breathless.
After the kiss, Clarissa lost all sense of time. The questions that had been on her tongue vanished completely.
Her eyes were glazed, lips flushed and trembling. Atticus brushed a thumb across her reddened mouth, his voice low and rough, his smile equal parts rogue and devil.
“Clarissa, it’s fine if you want to know,” he murmured, leaning closer, “but tell me—what’s my reward?”
His knee slipped between her legs, nudging them apart, until her slim frame was pinned tightly against him.
The hard pressure against her abdomen jolted Clarissa back to herself.
Her face went scarlet. She shoved at his chest, whispering furiously, “You… you’re insane. This is a police station. Let me go!”
But Atticus held her with one hand, his voice deceptively calm. “You still haven’t answered me.”
“I—I don’t want to know anymore. Just let me go.”
To him, she looked like a frightened little rabbit, trembling but impossibly endearing. He wrapped his arms around her, his chest heavy with a strange mix of desire and pity.
“Good girl,” he breathed. “I’ll tell you later.”
She didn’t move, her body frozen against him. Atticus glanced down, and his pulse kicked. He had only just taken the edge off that morning, but the sight of her—flushed, lips parted—rekindled the fire in an instant.
And then, voices sounded nearby.
Clarissa stiffened. Atticus’s lips curved in faint amusement. With a swift motion, he scooped her up and strode out.
......
Clarissa couldn’t return to the company yet, and Atticus had taken an extended leave just to stay with her. Soon enough, he made it obvious what he wanted—he walked straight into the Wraith family home, bold as anything, to pack her things and move her in with him.
Xerxes, thrilled to see them together, practically bounced with excitement as he helped Clarissa gather her belongings.
Maximilian wasn’t home, but Everett wandered into the hall, yawning, only to stop short at the sight before him.
He had never seen a woman quite like her.
He inhaled slowly, forcing his expression into a lazy smile as he stepped forward. “Ms. Clarissa. Good afternoon. Moving, are you?”
Clarissa blinked, surprised, before giving the briefest nod. “Mm.”
Of the four brothers, her relationship with Everett was by far the worst. Whatever talent he had was outweighed by his rotten character.
And of course, Everett knew she disliked him—yet he shamelessly pestered her anyway.
“So you’re leaving?” His tone was mock-regretful. “What a shame. I won’t get to admire a beauty like Miss Clarissa every day.”
Clarissa’s brows knit in annoyance. She opened her mouth to cut him off—
“Clarissa! You’re leaving? Why?”
Delilah came rushing in, throwing her arms around Clarissa like a child afraid of being abandoned. “Is it because I wasn’t good enough? You don’t want me anymore?”
Her voice was soft, aggrieved, and Clarissa felt her heart melt. She stroked Delilah’s hair with a gentle hand.
“No, sweetheart. You’ve been wonderful. But I have to go home.”
The word home caught Clarissa off guard. Without realizing it, she’d begun to think of this place that way.
Delilah’s shoulders sagged, but a moment later her head popped up, eyes shining. “Then let me live with you! Please? I want to stay with you.”
Clarissa hesitated—just as Atticus’s voice cut cleanly through.
“No. There’s no room for you in my house.”
He didn’t even blink. If Delilah moved in, every one of his plans would go up in smoke.
Delilah bristled, stamping her foot. “Then I’ll sleep with Clarissa! I have to protect her.”
Atticus’s expression darkened. “Forget it. Have you found the flute yet? Master’s orders come first—retrieve it before she returns.”
Delilah’s face flushed red with anger. She bit her lip, glaring at him with wet eyes, but in the end all she could do was snap, “Atticus, you bastard!”
He only smirked, unfazed, and closed his hand around Clarissa’s wrist.
“The luggage is in the car,” he said smoothly. “Let’s go.”
Clarissa gave him a helpless look but didn’t argue back.
Atticus tugged her along, while Delilah stood there, eyes brimming with tears, still spitting curses.
“Atticus, you bastard! Shame on you! You just want Clarissa all to yourself!”
Everett, lounging nearby, couldn’t help but laugh. “They’re lovers. Why are you so worked up? Don’t tell me you actually like her that much.”
“I do,” Delilah shot back without hesitation, nodding seriously. “Clarissa’s amazing. Every time I’m with her, I feel happy and at ease…” She broke off, glaring at him mid-sentence. “But I’m not telling you anything. You’re just as bad as Atticus.”
Everett blinked, baffled. What the hell did I do?
By the time they reached home, it was already dark. Atticus handled the luggage while Clarissa slipped into her room for a hot shower. She pinned her long hair up in a bun and let the warm water soothe her aching muscles. A soft sigh escaped her lips.
Finally, she thought, she’d get a good night’s sleep.
But then she heard the door open.
Clarissa startled, spinning around to see Atticus walking through the steam toward her.
“Atticus! You—”
Before she could finish, he’d already caught her.
“Let’s shower together,” he said simply.
Water splashed down, soaking Clarissa’s bare skin and plastering Atticus’s white shirt to his body. He unbuttoned it slowly, revealing his broad chest and lean, defined abs.
Clarissa’s face burned. She pressed a hand against him. “I… I’m done. Just wait until I get out…”
Her stammer only deepened his wicked smile. He bent his head and cut her off with a single word against her lips.
“No.”
The room seemed to heat instantly. Before she knew it, he’d backed her against the tiles, his hands roaming, his mouth trailing fire. His knee nudged her legs apart as he pressed closer.
He kissed down her back, his hands claiming her breasts, his voice a husky whisper at her ear. “Clarissa, tell me you want me.”
Her eyes went hazy, breath ragged. Her lips parted in a trembling murmur. “Mnn… Atticus… I want you…”
His answering smile was soft, hungry. With a hard thrust, he buried himself inside her, moving with relentless force…
......
The next morning.
Clarissa woke sore all over, every muscle aching, her memories of the night flooding back. She wanted to cry. The man’s stamina was terrifying. She couldn’t take much more of this. Is it too late to regret everything now?
As she lay stewing, Atticus stirred behind her. His hot breath grazed her ear as he pressed against her, already hard, even half-asleep.
“Clarissa…” he murmured, reaching for her, trying to roll her beneath him again.
Panic flashed across her face. She shoved at him, blurting, “No, it hurts…”
Atticus froze, eyes darkening. “Still hurting? Let me see.”
“No!” Her voice cracked, sharp with embarrassment. She grabbed his hand tight. “I… I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
Suspicion lingered in his gaze. “Really?”
She nodded frantically, mortified.
Then his lips curved, catlike. In one smooth motion, he flipped her beneath him, caging her in.
“Then let’s continue…”
“Atticus!” she yelped, terrified and furious.
But instead of taking her, he brushed a feather-light kiss over her cheek, his low laugh curling around her like smoke.
“Silly Clarissa. You’re too cute.”
She blinked up at him, startled, only to realize she’d been tricked.
“Atticus!” she fumed, shoving hard.
Her bed was barely big enough for two. With her push, Atticus toppled off the side with a loud thud.
He groaned, sprawled naked on the floor, utterly shameless, gazing up at her with a mixture of mock-resentment and amusement.
“Cruel woman. One more inch and I’d have lost my manhood forever.”
Clarissa hurled a pillow at him, clutching another to cover herself. “Get dressed! You’re disgusting!”
This bastard—he thought he could seduce her just because he was good-looking.
But the worst part? She was weak to him every damn time.
Wrapping herself in a towel, she stood and stalked into the bathroom.