Chapter313 – The concert?
Atticus didn’t argue. He knew he was wrong. He stood there in silence.
“I… I didn’t hurt her.”
“Your existence in her life is the greatest harm you could ever inflict on her. I spared you once. I let my Clarissa go. What more do you want? For her memories to come back? For her to hate you down to her bones before you’re satisfied?”
Panic flickered through Atticus’s eyes.
“Don’t tell her.”
“Oh? Now you’re scared?”
“I don’t want her to remember those things,” Atticus said, his voice breaking. “I want her to be happy.”
“Bullshit.” Callum’s lips curled in contempt. “Her pain was caused by you. Who are you trying to fool with this pathetic act of devotion? Atticus, don’t insult me—or yourself. Get out. Get the hell out. From today on, I never want to see you again.”
.......
The memory shattered.
Atticus sucked in a shaky breath, his eyes burning red. After leaving that house, he hadn’t known where to go. He could only wander the streets like a hollow shell, a corpse that still knew how to walk.
Clarissa… I’m sorry. I lied to you.
We didn’t just meet recently. We’ve known each other for far longer than that.
I would give you everything I had. Even my life.
I’m leaving now. Please… take care of yourself.
......
Rain poured down in relentless sheets.
Clarissa searched all day, but she couldn’t find Atticus anywhere. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t reach him. It was as if he’d vanished completely.
After having Oriana exhaust every possible resource, Clarissa finally returned home, drenched and numb. The house was empty. Silent.
She closed the door behind her, and it felt like the last of her strength drained away. Her vision swam. Darkness rushed in.
She collapsed to the floor.
......
She didn’t know how long it was before she woke up.
Her head throbbed. Her stomach churned violently. A wave of nausea hit her so hard she bolted upright and stumbled to the bathroom.
Clarissa knelt over the toilet, retching until her body shook. When it finally stopped, she felt weak to the point of collapse. Her face was deathly pale.
She sat on the bathroom floor for a long while before forcing herself up to rinse her mouth.
Staring at her reflection, she took several deep breaths. Maybe she’d caught a cold from the rain…
Then another thought struck her.
Her period was almost a month late.
A faint spark flickered back to life in her eyes.
Clarissa quickly showered, changed clothes, and rushed to the nearest hospital.
Before long, the doctor returned with her report.
“Congratulations, ma’am,” the doctor said with a smile. “You’re pregnant—almost two months along. The fetus is healthy. You do seem to have caught a chill, though. I’ll prescribe some medication to help stabilize the pregnancy.”
The doctor continued explaining precautions, but Clarissa barely heard a word.
Pregnant.
She was really pregnant.
Her eyes burned, tears welling up uncontrollably—not from grief, but from overwhelming joy. Her heart felt so full it hurt.
She instinctively placed a hand over her lower abdomen. It was still flat, unchanged—yet there was already a life growing there.
Her child.
Her and Atticus’s child.
“Ma’am? Ma’am?”
Clarissa snapped back to reality, quickly taking the report from the doctor’s hand.
“I understand. Thank you… thank you so much, doctor.”
......
That night, Clarissa lay awake in bed, one hand resting gently over her belly.
She had never been particularly fond of children. The idea of pregnancy and childbirth had even frightened her once. But now—now that this child was his—her heart felt impossibly full.
“Baby,” she murmured softly, “why did you choose to come at a time like this? You’re just like your father… stubborn and reckless.”
She smiled faintly, her eyes warming.
“But that’s alright. Even if Daddy isn’t here right now, I’ll take good care of you.”
The pregnancy itself wasn’t surprising. During that time, they had been inseparable—losing themselves in each other night after night, until dawn crept through the curtains. Every corner of the house carried traces of their passion. No protection. No restraint. It had been inevitable.
She counted the days carefully.
If she was nearly two months along, then it could only have been that night—at the auction.
Clarissa glanced at the withered begonia on the bedside table, her gaze sharpening with quiet determination.
She picked up her phone and dialed Oriana’s number.
“Oriana,” she said calmly, “don’t cancel what I asked you to do before. Proceed as planned.”
There was a pause. “Miss Clarissa… are you sure?”
“Yes. Spread the word. Start tonight. Move fast.”
She was genuinely afraid—afraid that he might do something irreversible.
Oriana acknowledged and hung up.
Clarissa exhaled slowly.
She wasn’t alone anymore.
She had her child.
And now, there was one last thing she had to finish—her gift to Atticus.
......
The next day, Clarissa packed her belongings and went to the Wraith family residence.
Phoenix’s eyes lit up when she saw Clarissa—but she quickly masked it.
Callum was sitting beside her.
Aside from the time Clarissa had been gravely ill, this was only the second time Phoenix had seen that expression on his face. Cold. Heavy. Dangerous enough to make her spine prickle.
Callum lifted his teacup and took a measured sip.
“So,” he said evenly, “She had come.”
“Yes,” Phoenix answered quietly.
Clarissa stepped forward, stopping a short distance away.
“Grandpa,” she called softly.
“I already know what you’re going to say,” Callum replied without looking at her. “But Clarissa, the two of you cannot be together. I won’t allow it. You don’t need to know why. You may choose anyone you like—just not Atticus.”
Clarissa took another step forward.
Then she knelt.
Callum’s brows snapped together. “Clarissa! Get up!”
“I’m sorry, Grandpa.” Clarissa placed a hand over her abdomen, her voice gentle but unyielding. “It’s already too late. There can be no one else.”
Callum and Phoenix stared at her in shock and stood up at the same time.
“Clarissa, you—” Phoenix gasped.
“You already…” Callum’s hand trembled violently. The teacup slipped from his grasp and shattered on the floor. He reached toward her, but Phoenix grabbed his arm. “Mr. Callum, no!”
Callum shook her off and pointed at Clarissa, his voice shaking with fury.
“Have you lost your mind?! Do you even know who he—”
“I know,” Clarissa interrupted softly, lifting her gaze. “I’ve known for a long time. Everything.”
Callum staggered back a step. “That’s impossible… How could you—”
“I’m sorry, Grandpa.” Clarissa bowed her head and kowtowed deeply. “I’ve come to apologize. I’ve failed you. I’ve disappointed you.”
“Mr. Callum,” Phoenix said urgently, “Clarissa is pregnant. The floor is cold—please let her stand up first.”
Pain flickered through Callum’s eyes.
“Girl,” he said hoarsely, “do you understand what staying by his side means? Are you truly certain? Being with a man like that… will drag you straight into hell.”
“Yes,” Clarissa answered after a steadying breath, her fingers digging into the floor. “I’ve thought it through. Losing him would destroy me. This time—even if it’s hell—I want to go with him.”
“If that person is Atticus… then I’m willing.”
Callum stumbled backward.
“Mr. Callum!” Phoenix rushed to support him.
“Grandpa!” Clarissa rose quickly, helping Phoenix ease him into a chair, gently patting his back.
After a long silence, Callum stared at Clarissa. His lips moved again and again before he finally let out a long, weary sigh.
“…Enough.”
“Grandpa,” Clarissa said softly, “please rest here with Phoenix. I have something very important to do. When it’s finished, I’ll bring him back—to apologize to you in person.”
“Phoenix.”
“Clarissa…” Phoenix’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Be careful.”
“I will.”
“Thank you for helping me,” Clarissa said quietly. “Please take good care of Grandpa.”
“I promise.”
.....
After leaving the Wraith family residence, Clarissa went straight to the company. Oriana already had everything prepared.
That very day, Clarissa officially announced that her new song—“Atticus”—would be released in three days.
The news exploded.
Within hours, it swept across social media, triggering a worldwide sensation.
The moment Clarissa stepped out of the building, reporters and fans swarmed around her.
“Ms. Clarissa! You disappeared for half a year and suddenly announced a new song. Is there some new source of inspiration behind this?”
“Yes.”
Clarissa looked straight into the camera, her gaze calm and tender, as if she were looking through the lens—straight at the person she loved most.
Under countless expectant, adoring stares, she spoke slowly and clearly.
“This concert is for someone extremely important to me. I hope he comes.”
With that, Clarissa turned and left, not offering another word.
.....
During this time, Clarissa also went to the hospital—more than once.
“Dean…”
“Miss Clarissa, please don’t ask anymore,” the dean said helplessly. “I truly haven’t seen him.”
Clarissa nodded, her smile faint but unwavering.
“If you do see him… please tell him I’m waiting. Tell him I miss him very much.”
“I understand.”
Clarissa thanked her and left.
The moment the door closed, the dean let out a long sigh.
“Mr. Atticus… why did you do this?”
Atticus stepped out from behind the partition.
“Others wouldn’t understand.”
“You never touched women before—because of Miss Clarissa, wasn’t it?”
Atticus didn’t answer. He turned and walked away.
Behind him, the dean called out, “Mr. Atticus… will you go to the concert?”
Atticus paused for a fraction of a second—then continued walking.
The door closed.
The dean looked at the ticket in her hand and smiled helplessly.
“Well. Free ticket, I guess. This is going to be interesting… Atticus, you’ve finally met your match.”
......
The day of the concert arrived.
The venue was packed to the brim.
Atticus sat not far from the stage, dressed plainly. To avoid being recognized—especially by Clarissa—he had disguised himself carefully, mask pulled low, hat shadowing his face.
He chose the very last seat in the first row.
Just one step away from the stage. Close enough to see her clearly—yet invisible to everyone else.
Earlier that day, the sea had stretched endlessly before him. Halfway there, someone dragged him back.
When he turned, he saw N’s cold, unreadable expression—and Eleven’s panicked face.
He had called Eleven first, telling her the organization could disband.
Terrified, she contacted N immediately.
Using the residual chip inside Atticus’s destroyed phone, N located him.
At that moment, half of Atticus’s body had already been submerged in the ocean.
After a long, bitter argument, they finally stopped him.
In exchange for Atticus promising to heal Eleven’s damaged throat, they agreed to let him do whatever he wanted afterward.
......
Backstage, Oriana glanced at the darkened sky and whispered anxiously,
“Miss Clarissa… it’s almost time. Will Atticus really come?”
Clarissa sat before the mirror, adjusting her makeup. A calm, confident smile curved her lips.
“He’ll come. I’m sure of it.”
She checked the time, smoothed her dress, and stood up.
The next second—
Snap.
The lights went out.
A single spotlight illuminated the piano at center stage.
The faint sound of high heels echoed through the hall.
Click. Click.
Clarissa sat down at the piano.
Her slender fingers rested lightly on the keys. As always, she said nothing.