Chapter211 – Stay by my side
Delilah’s eyes sparkled the moment she saw the sweets, and she sat down obediently, spoon in hand.
Clarissa turned to William with a soft apology. “Delilah’s… a bit unusual. Sorry if it feels inappropriate.”
William shook his head. “It’s fine. She seems sweet.”
He set down his cup, his gaze briefly lingering on Clarissa. “I’m glad to see you well. It’s getting late—I should head off.”
Clarissa stood immediately. “I’ll walk you out.”
“There’s no need,” William said quietly, already turning. “You still have things to do. I’ll see myself out.”
And before she could find the words to stop him, he was gone.
Delilah, still chewing on a spoonful of pudding, piped up around the bite. “Clarissa, he looked so sad.”
Clarissa blinked, caught off guard. “Sad?”
“Yeah,” Delilah said matter-of-factly, licking her spoon. “Like he was about to cry.”
Clarissa froze. The man’s face had been expressionless, carefully guarded. “How could you tell?”
“Isn’t it obvious? He totally likes you.”
Clarissa’s lips parted, her mind going blank for a moment. “Do you even know what love is?”
“Of course I do.” Delilah grinned, then added with a small tilt of her head, “But now that I think about it, there’s something familiar about him…”
She trailed off, eyes flicking with mischief. Then, before Clarissa could question her further, Delilah hopped down from the chair.
“I just remembered—I’ve got somewhere else to be. I’ll see you later!”
And with that, she skipped toward the door, not forgetting to swipe every snack left on the table as she went.
Clarissa could only shake her head, half helpless, half amused.
That girl.
......
William stormed down into the parking garage, tore off his tie, and collapsed against the steering wheel, dragging in a rough breath.
He pulled out a cigarette, lighter poised, when a voice from the backseat startled him.
“So you do smoke. No wonder I couldn’t find it before.”
His head snapped around. Delilah was sitting comfortably in the backseat, smiling as though she’d been waiting for him all along.
Her blue-and-white dress fanned out across the leather like flower petals, her long black hair spilling in dark waves to cover half the seat.
Just like the first time he’d seen her, she was utterly striking—if Clarissa’s beauty was fierce, like a red diamond reborn from ashes, then Delilah’s was delicate and untouchable, like an orchid blooming alone on a cliff, beyond the reach of dust and decay.
William frowned, his chest tightening. When the hell had she gotten into his car?
“When did you get in here?”
“When?” Delilah tilted her head, grinning. “The moment you opened the door, of course.”
He scowled. “What are you even doing here?”
“Looking for something I dropped,” she said casually, crouching down to search the floor.
William’s brows knit tighter. “And how exactly would your things end up in my car?”
She ignored his tone, then straightened up with a triumphant little gasp. In her hand was a small white flute, gleaming with a faint sheen, as though it held its own inner breath. An emerald tassel swayed from its end, delicate and luminous.
“You said nothing of mine was here, but look,” Delilah teased.
William’s eyes narrowed on the flute, a flicker of surprise cutting through his controlled expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. That must mean a lot to you.”
“Of course it does,” she said, cradling it carefully, polishing away the faint dust. “If I lost this, my master would skin me alive.”
Her nose wrinkled suddenly. “Ugh. Your car reeks of cigarettes. I hate that smell.”
Her gaze shifted to him, softening slightly. “But… it’s not really your fault. I was careless.”
“No. If I hadn’t hit you that day, you wouldn’t have been hurt. Your things wouldn’t have been lost. It’s my fault, entirely.”
He meant it.
Lately, he knew he’d been slipping. The man who once prided himself on restraint and discipline now found his ashtray overflowing, his nights stretched with alcohol and silence. Clarissa’s face—lit with affection for another man—was burned into his mind, and it was driving him to vices he once despised.
Delilah tilted her head, studying him, then broke into a playful smile. “You’re funny. If it’s your fault, shouldn’t you make it up to me?”
He blinked. “How do you want me to do that?”
“Hmm…” She tapped her lip thoughtfully, then her eyes lit up. “Buy me dinner.”
William hesitated only a second before nodding. “Alright. Dinner it is.”
But her eyes flicked to the cigarette still between his fingers, and her smile vanished. “First—throw that away. I can’t stand it.”
Without protest, he set it aside. “Are you that sensitive to smells?”
Delilah gave a short laugh. “Always have been. Phoenix calls me her little police dog.”
Then, without invitation, she slipped into the front passenger seat, buckled herself in, and clapped her hands together. “Okay. Let’s go.”
William exhaled, half exasperated, half amused. This girl had no sense of boundaries, no fear of strangers—no wonder Clarissa hovered over her like a nervous guardian.
And yet… he didn’t tell her to get out.
Clarissa’s workload was finally settling into a rhythm again, but the hole in her finances was still gaping, and she knew she needed to replenish it fast.
Atticus found her curled up on the sofa with her laptop and sat down beside her. “You’ve taken on so many scripts at once. Do you even have enough staff to cover them?”
“I’ll handle the big ones myself and leave the rest to the team,” she answered without looking up.
The last incident had cost her more than three hundred million yuan.
Aside from the real estate and some gold and jewelry, her liquid assets had all but dried up. Most of what she still had was tied up in stocks and investments she couldn’t touch for the time being. If something urgent came up, she’d be finished—and she knew it.
Even though Zachary had taken his own life, Clarissa’s hatred for him hadn’t dimmed.
To her, money was life itself. Anyone who touched it was as good as trying to kill her. If she ever found out who was pulling strings behind the scenes, she would never forgive them.
Atticus studied her tense expression, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You’re the boss, yet you insist on doing everything yourself. Don’t you think your employees will find that… odd?”
This woman and her obsession with money, he thought, half laughing.
Clarissa opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, Atticus slipped behind her, arms wrapping around her waist. His breath was warm at her ear. “Come on. Be good. Open your account.”
She gave him a helpless look, but still clicked it open.
The numbers on the screen leapt out at her. Clarissa froze.
She blinked, then began counting silently: tens, hundreds, thousands… her lips parted in shock.
Her gaze shot toward Atticus.
“Open the others,” he said smoothly.
One by one she checked them. Every account balance was the same.
“You—”
Atticus rested his chin on her shoulder, inhaling her scent, utterly pleased with himself. “Do you like it?”
Her voice was hushed. “Where did you get all that money?”
“I earned it,” he said simply, a cocky tilt to his lips. His voice was as confident as ever. “Money’s easy to earn, isn’t it?”
Clarissa’s mouth twitched. For once, she was speechless.
“Happy now?” His tone softened, almost teasing.
Her eyes lowered, her feelings a tangle of warmth and disbelief. “Why are you suddenly doing this?”
“You like money. So I’ll give you everything I have.”
Her chest tightened, her heart skipping. She looked at him in surprise. “You’re still trying to stop me from working, aren’t you?”
“I know I can’t stop you,” Atticus said, brushing her hair back behind her ear. “Do what you want. But as your man, I’ll give you the security you crave. Not just the same as anyone else—more. Always more.”
Her eyes stung, and before she realized it, tears were slipping down her cheeks like pearls from a broken string. “Idiot…”
Atticus smiled and kissed the wetness from her lashes. “Will this make you love me more? Depend on me more?”
She punched him lightly in the chest. “Asshole.”
He only pulled her closer, voice low and firm. “Then, as promised, stay by my side. Forever. Don’t ever leave me.”
“…Yeah.” Her nod was soft, but certain.
With her accounts suddenly flush again, Clarissa threw herself into her work with renewed energy. She smiled more, laughed more, her good mood lighting up the office until her colleagues couldn’t help but whisper.
“What’s she so happy about?”
“The company lost hundreds of millions, yet she’s smiling like that.”
“She’s a Lancaster. Land, money, power… she only started this company to play. Do you think she’s really suffering?”
“So what if she’s rich? She was dumped by Dorian, remember?”
“Dumped? Don’t talk nonsense. She has a boyfriend now. Handsome, rich, drives a multi-million dollar car, and works as a government medical examiner. He’s every bit as good as Dorian—better, even. You couldn’t even dream of being dumped by someone like him.”
“You—” the feman bristled, face flushing red.
The sharp tongue belonged, of course, to Oriana. As Clarissa’s secretary, no one in the company dared cross her, and she wore her victory like a crown as she turned and strutted back to Clarissa’s office with the files in hand.
Clarissa was working with that same beaming smile, and Oriana finally blurted, “Ms. Clarissa, you’re too soft. Those people keep calling you a discarded woman abandoned by Dorian, and you don’t even care?”
“You said it yourself—I’m just their boss. As long as their work is done, why should I waste my breath shutting them up?”
Oriana blinked.
Clarissa’s mind was always razor sharp. She only cared about her work, her money, and the people who mattered to her. The rest weren’t worth the breath to argue with.
She finished scanning the documents in her hand and extended a palm toward Oriana, who was still standing there looking lost in thought. “Well? What are you waiting for? Hand it over. We’ve got a lot to get through today.”
Snapping back to herself, Oriana quickly stepped forward and placed the folder in front of her. “Here’s today’s schedule, Miss Clarissa. Are you sure you’re up for it?”
“No problem.”
At the moment, a major drama was shooting under Clarissa’s management, and she was personally overseeing the production. They had even managed to cast Xerxes—the hot young star everyone was talking about—as the male lead.
A glint of calculation flashed in Clarissa’s eyes as she and Oriana headed to the filming location.
They arrived just as a makeup artist was dusting powder across Mark’s face.