Chapter233 – Unsatisfied men
Clarissa stirred, reaching for the clothes he’d tossed aside, but before she could sit up, his hand pressed her firmly back to the mattress.
“Atticus, Oriana… maybe we should—”
His mouth claimed hers before she could finish. His voice was low, dangerous against her lips. “Forget her. Leave that damned girl outside.”
Clarissa whimpered, tears pricking at her eyes as she pushed weakly at him. “Stop…”
Oriana called softly through the door, but no one answered. She assumed Clarissa and Atticus had gone to bed. Just as she turned to leave, she thought she heard… something.
The muffled noises made her hesitate. She raised her hand and knocked again. “Miss Clarissa, are you there? Cl—”
“Get out!”
Atticus’s furious snarl ripped through the door, sharp enough to slice the air.
Oriana froze, her knees nearly buckling. She was about to bolt when the door suddenly opened.
Atticus stood there, eyes cold as a blade, Clarissa at his side.
Though they were both dressed, Clarissa’s flushed cheeks and swollen lips betrayed exactly what they had been doing inside. No wonder he was enraged.
Oriana swallowed hard, her laugh nervous and shaky. “Uh…”
Clarissa stepped forward, smoothing her shawl. “You said someone was looking for me and Atticus? What is it?”
Flustered, Oriana rushed to explain. “Someone’s here with a letter from Phoenix. They insisted on giving it to you personally. I thought they were a scammer, so I was going to send them away.”
“Wait,” Clarissa stopped her. “Phoenix? She’s here? Take me to her.”
Oriana blinked. “You… you actually know her?”
Why bring a letter when you could just call? The whole thing felt strange.
She risked a glance at Atticus, but his eyes promised nothing but murder. She dropped her gaze instantly.
In the hall, once Clarissa confirmed her identity, the messenger handed her the sealed letter. As she reached for it, her shawl slipped. Before she could catch it, Atticus draped it back around her shoulders with a faint, indulgent smile.
“The dew’s heavy tonight. Don’t catch cold.”
Heat bloomed in Clarissa’s cheeks. She lowered her gaze, murmuring thanks as she opened the letter.
Oriana saw her chance and began to edge away quietly—until Atticus’s voice stopped her cold.
“Where are you going?”
Her body jolted. She stammered, “A-Atticus, you should stay with Miss Clarissa. I’ll just head back…”
She spun to flee, but his hand clamped the back of her neck. He hauled her like a misbehaving kitten, steering her outside.
“I’ve got something to say to you. You can leave when I’m finished.”
“No, really—it’s late—” Her voice cracked, tears prickling at her eyes.
Outside, Atticus finally released her. Oriana rubbed her neck and tried to laugh it off. “Atticus, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I swear, I thought—”
Her words tangled into silence beneath his stare.
Atticus smiled faintly. “You’re clever. No wonder Clarissa picked you as her secretary.”
The smile vanished. His face turned dark, stormy, a predator baring its teeth.
“You understand what I mean. I won’t spell it out again. Next time you disturb Clarissa and me—especially during our private time—I’ll make sure you can’t speak at all. Do you understand?”
Oriana had never seen him like this. Terror seized her chest. Her legs gave out, and she dropped to her knees. “I-I understand!”
Just as suddenly, Atticus’s expression softened, the menace tucked neatly away. “Good. If it happens again, Clarissa will have a new secretary.”
He turned his back on her, striding away with casual indifference. “Go on. Get out of here.”
Oriana stared after him, still shaking, before finally pushing herself upright. Her heart pounded as she whispered to herself, “That was Atticus? So terrifying…”
That gaze—feral, bloodthirsty—had pinned her like prey, helpless under the predator’s claws. Instinct alone had forced her to kneel.
She let out a shaky laugh, dusting her skirt. “Unsatisfied men really are dangerous.”
Just as Atticus walked in, Clarissa came rushing out.
They nearly collided, but he caught her by the shoulders, steadying her. “Clarissa, what’s wrong? You look flustered.”
The moment she saw him, she clutched his arm like a lifeline. “Atticus, thank god you’re back. Something’s happened to Phoenix.”
“Her?” He frowned in surprise, taking the letter from her hand. One glance was all it took before a laugh burst from his throat.
Clarissa smacked his arm hard. “This isn’t funny! Phoenix has been imprisoned!”
Atticus tried to stifle his grin, coughing into his fist. “Clarissa, relax. With Master’s abilities, even locked up, she won’t be harmed. I’ll get her out tomorrow. Don’t be upset, alright?”
His calm tone soothed her frayed nerves, and she exhaled slowly.
The messenger who had delivered the letter shifted, ready to take his leave. “Since you’ve received the letter, I’ll go.”
“Wait,” Atticus called, brows lifting. “Aren’t you going to show me where she is?”
“I’ve already given the exact location to this young lady,” the man said carefully, nodding at Clarissa. “But I can’t escort you inside. If I do, both my young master and I will be in danger.”
Clarissa nodded in understanding. “Thank you. Just tell me this—Phoenix, is she safe? Is her life in danger?”
“We don’t harm the innocent. But… she damaged my young master’s reputation. So the clan leader intends for her to marry him, only she…”
“Pfft…”
Atticus couldn’t help himself—another laugh spilled out before the man could finish.
Clarissa shot him a death glare.
He coughed again, struggling to keep his expression straight. “Ahem. Sorry, please… continue.” His shoulders trembled as he held back more laughter.
The messenger scowled at him, then turned to Clarissa. “You spoil him too much. A man without discipline grows insolent. Only firm hands can keep him in line.”
Clarissa’s mouth twitched. She forced a smile. “Yes, I’ll be sure to discipline him properly.”
Satisfied, the man added, “Don’t worry. The clan leader won’t kill her. But I must go before I’m discovered.”
“We’ll see you out,” Clarissa offered, but he raised a hand.
“No need.”
As his figure disappeared into the night, Atticus leaned closer and murmured, “He looked terrified you might take advantage of him.”
Clarissa narrowed her eyes. “And what exactly are you implying?”
“Just that it would be wonderful if more men were that self-aware.”
“You—!” Clarissa pinched his waist sharply. But the muscles there were firm, unyielding, and all it did was make her fingers ache. She let go with a frustrated huff.
Amused, Atticus caught her hand and pressed it back against his side. “Don’t pout. You can touch me as much as you like once we’re home.”
Before she could wriggle free, he scooped her up with ease and carried her back inside.
He laid her down on the bed, his eyes dark with intent.
“What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously.
“Continuing.”
She shoved him away with a kick. “Continuing, my ass! Go to sleep!”
Pulling the blanket over her, she turned her back on him. Phoenix’s situation weighed too heavily on her mind for any games.
But Atticus was relentless. He slid in behind her, wrapping her up in his arms, his voice low and teasing against her ear. “Clarissa…”
She groaned, exhausted. “Will one night without sex kill you?”
“Yes,” he replied instantly, pressing himself against her. “My cock’s about to explode.”
Her cheeks flamed, and she cursed under her breath. “Atticus, you shameless bastard!”
He only chuckled, grinding against her curves. “Clarissa, I’ll be gone tomorrow to rescue Master. I won’t see you for days. Can you bear that? I know you’ll miss me inside you…”
Her throat went dry at the heat radiating from his body. She turned her head just enough to glimpse his handsome face, heart lurching before she quickly looked away. “…Fine. Once. Just once.”
His eyes lit with hunger as he bent toward her lips. “Okay.”
But before his mouth could claim hers, she pressed a hand over it.
Her gaze softened, luminous with unshed tears. “No more than an hour.”
She had learned from bitter experience—never again would she let him wreck her body all night.
Atticus’s expression darkened. “Clarissa, you’re really making this difficult for me.”
“How am I?” she challenged.
Resting his head against her chest, he sighed dramatically. “Sister, you only care about your own comfort. What about me? Don’t you care if I suffer? How cruel…”
Clarissa pushed at him with a laugh. “Forget it then. I’ll just go to sleep.”
“Who said I don’t want to?” In one swift motion, Atticus rolled and pinned her beneath him. His lips captured hers before she could argue again.
The next morning, Clarissa rose slowly, still sore in her waist, and stepped outside to look for Atticus.
A chorus of shrieks suddenly pierced the air.
“Ahhh! Look, it’s Atticus! So handsome!”
“Oh my god, are they filming some promo photos?”
Following the sound, Clarissa spotted him walking toward her. He was dressed in a sleek black suit, with a vest, tall boots, and fitted armor wrapped around his waist and thighs. The sight of him—lean, powerful, devastatingly attractive—stopped her in her tracks.
She stood frozen, staring, until he reached her. His lips curved faintly. “Why aren’t you sleeping in a little longer?”
“I woke up and… didn’t see you,” she admitted softly.
“I went to borrow some gear from a friend,” he explained easily. “Have you had breakfast?”
She shook her head. Her eyes lingered on his fully armed figure, unease rising in her chest. “You’re leaving now?”
“Soon. The sooner I go, the sooner it’s done. But…” He caught her hand, squeezing lightly. “First I’ll have breakfast with you.”
Hand in hand, he led her inside.
At the table, Atticus served her a bowl of porridge himself. Clarissa took only two sips before setting the spoon down, her gaze fixed on him.
“What is it?” he asked, brows lifting. “Don’t like it?”
“No.” She shook her head, her voice tinged with worry. “I just… Atticus, please be careful.”
He covered her hand with his, warm and steady. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
Still, the knot in her chest wouldn’t loosen. “Maybe I should tell Delilah. Even Phoenix is trapped there. I’m afraid you’ll—”
“Clarissa,” he cut her off gently, leaning in close, his breath brushing her forehead as he kissed her there. “Have faith in your man. Three days. I’ll be back in three days, I swear. If I’m not, then you can go to Delilah..”
Something in his voice—his certainty, his promise—settled her.
“Then it’s a deal,” she said quietly. “Three days, and you come back to me safe.”
Atticus smiled and nodded. “I will.”
When he finally set out, Clarissa walked him all the way to the gate. His eyes lingered on her, drinking her in, and an unfamiliar ache stirred in his chest. Sweet, sharp, and suffocating all at once.
Only Clarissa looked at him like this. Only she loved him with such reckless devotion. She had given him everything—her secrets, her trust, her body, her heart.
And yet… he hadn’t told her the truth about Clementine.
That tangle of shadows still bound him. He couldn’t let Clarissa get dragged into it. He couldn’t bear to see her belong to anyone else—not even her own blood. He wanted her whole. He wanted her only.