Chapter308 – Another kidnapping
She was almost at the stairs when a shadow lunged at her from behind.
Clarissa reacted instantly, twisting out of the way and breaking into a run—but another figure blocked her path.
“Who are you?” she demanded sharply. “Why are you following me?”
“You don’t need to know.”
Her brows knitted—then agony exploded at the back of her neck.
Her vision went white.
“Atticus…” she whispered as she pitched forward.
Before darkness swallowed her completely, her fingers slipped to her hair. She yanked off the band and discreetly shoved it into a corner before everything went black.
.....
When Clarissa came to, she was surrounded by darkness.
Only a thin thread of moonlight filtered through a gauze-covered window.
She pushed herself upright slowly, wincing as pain throbbed at the back of her neck.
Seeing the Gryphonhall father and daughter earlier had triggered her suspicions. Lately, the Gryphonhall family had been behaving strangely, and Phoenix had already been monitoring them.
She had intended to warn Atticus about being followed.
She just hadn’t expected them to move this fast.
Clarissa had assumed that a medical family would rely on drugs—hypnosis, toxins, something subtle. That was why she’d taken precautions beforehand and worn the blood jade.
It neutralized hypnotic agents.
But these people had skipped the finesse entirely.
Brute force.
The blood jade wasn’t just for health. It had another, far more dangerous property—it repelled venomous creatures. Even if they approached her, they couldn’t poison her.
That secret was known only to her and her grandfather.
As Clarissa weighed her next move, something silver fluttered down through the skylight.
A butterfly.
Then another.
Two silver butterflies hovered near her, their translucent wings shimmering softly in the moonlight.
Clarissa startled—then her eyes lit up.
She extended a finger.
One butterfly landed obediently on her fingertip, wings trembling gently.
“Did Atticus send you?” she murmured.
They were beautiful.
Deadly, too. She’d heard that even trace exposure to their poison could kill.
Yet the blood jade on her wrist hadn’t changed color.
Clarissa’s breath caught.
Could it be…?
Her pulse quickened. Slowly, she removed the blood jade and extended her hand again.
“Come here…”
The butterfly landed once more.
She waited.
Nothing happened.
No pain. No numbness.
Her grandfather’s words echoed in her mind: A Gu’s poison is ineffective against its master.
The butterfly rested on her pale fingertip, wings fluttering gently.
Clarissa’s eyes reddened.
She covered her face, but tears streamed through her fingers.
So that’s it…
You idiot, Atticus.
Why didn’t you tell me sooner?
She drew a shaky breath and forced herself to steady.
“It’s alright,” she whispered. “It’s alright now.”
She gently caught one butterfly and released it through the window.
“Go,” she murmured. “Tell Atticus I’m here. Tell him not to worry.”
The butterfly vanished into the night.
Clarissa guided the second one into a shadowed corner. “You stay here. Be good. Don’t move.”
It obeyed instantly.
These blood-fed Gu were intelligent—frighteningly so. They understood her words and followed her commands.
And these two were only a fraction of the nest.
Her grandfather had once said hundreds could hatch… though usually only a dozen survived.
Now she finally understood why Atticus had gone to Butterfly Valley.
Refining Gu required extreme conditions. Butterfly Valley was the perfect place.
How many things have you been hiding from me…?
Clarissa mentally added another mark against Atticus.
But first, she had to survive this.
Footsteps echoed outside.
She quickly lay back down, letting her body go limp, breathing shallowly—unconscious once more.
The door creaked open.
A heavy floral scent drifted in, followed by hushed male voices.
“She’s still not awake?”
“Did we hit her too hard?”
“That’s impossible. I checked. She’s still breathing.”
Clarissa lay perfectly still.
.....
Several men were about to step forward and check on Clarissa when a sharp, impatient voice rang out from behind them.
“Is that bitch awake yet?”
“Not yet.”
Natalie strode over without hesitation. When she saw Clarissa’s pale, delicate profile and her soft hair spread across the floor, jealousy surged violently in her chest. She grabbed a metal bucket and dumped its contents straight over Clarissa’s head.
Water splashed everywhere.
Clarissa stirred and slowly opened her eyes.
But what caught her attention wasn’t Natalie standing there with the bucket—it was the vivid expanse of flowers outside.
Just as I thought.
Phoenix had been right. The Gryphonhall family was deeply involved in illegal dealings.
Clarissa’s gaze shifted subtly before settling on the man standing nearby. He wore a black suit, his expression unreadable. For now, she couldn’t discern his role.
She looked back at Natalie, deliberately letting confusion cloud her eyes. Her voice was weak, disoriented.
“Miss… Natalie? Why did you bring me here?”
Natalie reached down and viciously pinched Clarissa’s chin, sneering. “You don’t need to know. All you need to know is that you’re already a dead woman.”
Staring at Clarissa’s calm, beautiful face only fueled Natalie’s rage. She wanted nothing more than to rip it apart right now. But her father had made it clear—Clarissa would die in front of Atticus.
Only then would Atticus feel true despair. Only then would he become obedient.
Father said it himself.
When Clarissa is dead, and Atticus has been drugged by the Gryphonhall family… I’ll appear and save him.
He’ll belong to me after that.
Natalie’s smile widened at the thought.
“I don’t have any grudge against you,” Clarissa said quietly. “So why are you doing this?”
Natalie said nothing.
Clarissa suddenly smiled faintly. “Is it because of… Atticus?”
“Shut up!”
Natalie’s eyes burned with fury as she slapped Clarissa hard across the face.
Clarissa’s head snapped to the side—but she was still smiling.
Almost tauntingly.
“So you’re angry because Atticus rejected you,” she continued softly. “But Atticus is very smart. He won’t fall for tricks like yours. And besides… he cares about me deeply. I’d advise you—”
Before she could finish, icy water crashed down over her again. The metal bucket struck her head with a dull clang.
“Shut up! Shut up! You bitch—shut your mouth!”
Natalie yanked out a pill and forced it between Clarissa’s lips, shoving it down her throat.
Clarissa’s body trembled.
Natalie leaned down, her expression twisted with vicious delight. “This is Gryphonhall poison. Every time it flares up, you’ll be in agony. After seven episodes, your body will rot from the inside out. Sores everywhere. Atticus won’t even be able to look at you.”
Watching Clarissa collapse onto the floor, writhing in apparent pain, Natalie finally felt satisfied.
She straightened and turned away. “Let’s go.”
The door slammed shut.
The moment it did, the agony vanished from Clarissa’s face.
She sat up calmly and looked at the closed door, a faint smile curving her lips.
“I warned you,” she murmured. “My Atticus is very intelligent. And he cares about me a great deal.”
She wiped the water from her face. Blood trickled down her forehead, mixing with the droplets soaking the hem of her skirt.
Clarissa knelt down, removed her coat, and pressed it to her wound. Then, deliberately, she smeared the blood across her skin and clothes.
She glanced at her skirt, considering whether to tear it.
After a moment, she shook her head. Don’t overdo it.
When she looked down at the blood jade in her palm, it had indeed turned black.
But only briefly.
The darkness faded into wisps of black smoke that dissolved into the air.
Clarissa wasn’t afraid of poison.
A silver butterfly fluttered over and landed gently on her wound, its wings trembling softly. The pain in her forehead faded. The bleeding stopped.
She caught the tiny creature and smiled faintly. “Thank you, little one.”
Kneeling on the floor, she gazed out the window at the vast, blooming field beyond. Her eyes darkened.
Holding the blood jade to her forehead, she whispered reverently, “Grandpa… I’m sorry.”
The butterfly settled on her shoulder.
Clarissa remained kneeling there, unmoving.
The room fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the steady drip of water falling from her hair onto the floor.
Someone brought her food and water once.
She didn’t touch any of it.
Clarissa stayed exactly as she was—eyes open, body still—until dawn.
The next day, she was dragged away by force.
At her silent command, the butterfly flew off.
Clarissa, drenched and disheveled, was thrown violently to the ground—looking every bit like a woman who had been utterly broken.
The man leading the group glanced at Clarissa’s miserable state and clicked his tongue inwardly.
Once he’d fulfilled his mistress’s orders, this woman would be worthless. Still… maybe he could keep her around a little longer.
His gaze darkened as he reached out, grabbing her arm and brushing her long hair aside.
Clarissa jerked away violently. Her voice was icy, her eyes colder still.
“Don’t touch me with your filthy hands.”
Her man wouldn’t allow another man to lay a finger on her. Not even one.
The man paused, surprised—then amused. “You’ve got some nerve.”
Clarissa forced herself upright, supporting her aching knees. She looked down on him with open disdain.
“Trash like you isn’t even worth comparing to one of my man’s fingers. I don’t see you as a threat at all.”
“What the hell did you just say?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
The man laughed darkly. “Your ‘man’—he’s that pretty little doctor the Gryphonhall heiress is obsessed with, right?”
He leaned closer, his voice dripping with malice.
“He’s just a pretty face. Just wait—when things get ugly, he’ll piss himself and show his true colors. He’ll abandon you in a heartbeat and marry into the Gryphonhalls to save his own skin.”
He smiled as if offering mercy.
“I can even talk to Natalie for you. Get you the antidote. Save your life. Sound good?”
Clarissa tilted her head slightly.
“And why would Natalie do you that favor? Unless… you’re working with the Gryphonhalls?”
She glanced around pointedly.
“Poppy cultivation is illegal in my country. And this isn’t domestic territory, is it?”
The man’s smile stiffened.
“No, we’re not working with the Gryphonhalls. And this isn’t their land.”
He chuckled, eyes narrowing.
“You’re a terrifying woman. Trying to bait me?”
“Just curious,” Clarissa replied lightly.
Inside her sleeve, the silver butterfly slept peacefully. These creatures couldn’t be exposed to sunlight—that was why she’d hidden it there.
If the butterfly could find this place, then Atticus could too.
It was only a matter of time.
The man stepped closer.
Clarissa instinctively turned away, her gaze sharp and warning.
“I suggest you don’t touch me. I can’t guarantee what’ll happen to you afterward.”
His hand missed her—and rage flashed across his face. He grabbed her arm roughly and yanked her toward him.
“What are you still acting so high and mighty for?” he sneered. “This isn’t your home, Miss.”
His eyes crawled over her, lewd and venomous.
“Once I deal with that pretty boy, you’ll be mine.”
Clarissa was forced down onto her knees beside him.
She sighed inwardly.
None of them ever listen.
Then she heard it. A voice—urgent, breathless. “Atticus is here.”