She was so afraid of pain. Maybe use sothing special—to ease her through those first few tis of their sexs. His hands kept working, massaging the bruised and swollen flesh with steady pressure.
Clarissa’s face went pale, sweat pouring down her forehead in heavy beads.
When Atticus finished wrapping her ankle tightly in a dical bandage, she looked utterly spent—like she’d just been pulled from drowning.
She hadn’t expected it to be this serious, especially since she’d delayed treatnt until it turned inflad.
After swallowing the anti-inflammatory pills, she glanced up at Atticus and bit her lip shyly.
“Atticus… I’m sorry.”
He paused, cocking his head. “Why apologize?”
Clarissa hesitated, then confessed softly, “I shouldn’t have been angry with you earlier…”
A slow smile curved his lips as he settled beside her. One hand reached out, hooking gently under her chin.
“Well then, sister… have you thought about how you’re going to make it up to ?”
“I—”
Before she could finish, he leaned down and pressed a brief, teasing kiss to her still-pale lips.
It was quick, like a dragonfly’s flutter—light but electric.
Before Clarissa could even react, Atticus straightened and stepped back, his smile wicked and satisfied.
“Got a kiss. Not a bad profit,” he said.
“Atticus!” she snapped, half angry.
But before she could get up, he pinned her to the sofa with his body leaning close.
“Sister,” he teased, “are you going to scold now?”
She stared at his handso, confident face, heart pounding wildly.
His words echoed in her mind, making her blush fiercely. She shoved at him weakly. “No… no! Get off! Don’t get so close!”
Atticus sighed with mock regret and stepped back. Glancing at the clock, he stood and stretched. “It’s late. What do you want to eat?”
“Anything’s fine,” Clarissa muttered.
Before leaving the room, he glanced back at her curled up on the sofa.
“Oh, and by the way—your leg can’t handle walking now. If you don’t want to bandage it again, you’d better stay put and wait for to get back.”
That crushed any ideas Clarissa had about rushing back to her room.
She turned away, cheeks burning, unwilling to et his gaze. “Fine, I get it.”
Atticus smiled, then walked out.
Left alone, Clarissa sat still, heart hamring, cheeks afla.
She couldn’t stop touching her lips, feeling the heat where his kiss had landed.
For so reason, that brief touch sent a flush rushing through her—her heart still racing.
She curled up on the sofa, slowly starting to accept the changes between them.
Things were spiraling. Out of control.
Images and feelings crowded her mind as sleep began to pull at her.
......
Outside, Atticus walked slowly with a basket of fresh vegetables in one hand and a phone in the other, his tone sharp. “How’s the investigation going?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it under control…” The person on the other end started filling him in on what had happened to Clarissa at the company.
Atticus’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flickering in his gaze.
“The other matter will take so ti,” the voice continued. “How do you want to deal with Rhea?”
A cold smirk tugged at Atticus’s lips. “She wants attention? I’ll give her more than she can handle.”
The voice hesitated. “You’re thinking of exposing her private history?”
“What’s the use in just airing her dirty laundry?” Atticus said flatly. “What did I teach you?”
The man on the line gave an uneasy chuckle. “… But she didn’t really do anything, did she?”
Atticus’s voice turned to ice. “One cri like hers is enough to warrant death ten thousand tis over.”
And with that, he ended the call, not interested in wasting another second.
The mont his thoughts turned back to Clarissa, his entire expression softened. His sharp gaze lted into sothing warm, tender.
When he returned ho, he found her asleep on the sofa.
He instinctively quieted his steps, moving closer until he was kneeling beside her. Clarissa's breathing was even, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks like a child’s. Her hair clung slightly to her face from earlier sweat—an oddly seductive, yet vulnerable sight.
Atticus couldn’t help but reach out and touch her, gently brushing over her delicate features—her brow, her eyes, the slope of her nose… finally pausing on her lips.
His fingertips hovered there, pressing lightly.
His eyes darkened, hungry—but he didn’t take it further. He exhaled deeply and rose to head into the kitchen.
The sll of food eventually woke Clarissa. Her stomach growled the mont her eyes blinked open.
She instinctively tried to move her leg—but a sharp jolt of pain stopped her cold.
Whimpering slightly, she abandoned the idea of moving and picked up the iPad from the sofa instead, distracting herself with gas.
…
Dinner was simple and light, but delicious. The warm broth in her bowl seed to seep straight into her heart.
Clarissa glanced sideways at Atticus seated across from her. Her chest tightened a little as a thought crept in—Living with him like this... doesn’t feel so bad.
The mont she realized what she was thinking, her heart skipped violently. Just then, Atticus turned his head and caught her staring.
Their eyes locked. Startled, Clarissa imdiately looked away.
Atticus chuckled. “Sister, were you just checking out?”
Clarissa choked on her soup and started coughing uncontrollably.
He got up quickly and patted her back with ease. Once she stopped coughing, he leaned in close and teased with a smile, “You don’t have to sneak looks, you know. If there’s anything you want to see—I’ll cooperate fully…”
Clarissa's face darkened. “Stop talking nonsense. Eat.”
Later, while Atticus washed the dishes in the kitchen, Clarissa sat on the sofa making a phone call.
“Clarissa! Are you trying to kill ?!” her boss shouted the second he picked up.
“Boss, I can explain what happened—”
“No need to explain! Miss Clarissa, I beg you, don’t co back to the office. Please just stay ho and rest.”
Clarissa bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I’ll mail my resignation letter soon. If there are any losses, I’ll cover them.”
The man sighed heavily. “I really didn’t want it to co to this. You’re a strong perforr… But recently, it’s been one thing after another. Did you offend soone?”
Clarissa was quiet for a mont. “I… I’m not sure. Maybe it was just bad luck.”
“Well, whatever it is, get so rest,” the man said, then hung up.
Clarissa let out a breath of relief, then hesitated before dialing William’s number.
He picked up quickly, his voice laced with surprise. “Clarissa? What’s wrong? Did sothing happen?”
“I had a little accident,” she said gently. “I won’t be able to keep our appointnt for now.”
“What kind of accident? Are you okay? Was it serious?”
“No, nothing dangerous. I just twisted my ankle.”
“Is it bad?”
“Not too bad. It’s already been treated. I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be,” William said quickly. “You don’t need to apologize for sothing like that. Just take care of yourself, I—”
He paused. His lips parted as if to say more, but the words caught in his throat.
“I…” He exhaled softly. “Clarissa…”
“Hm? What is it?”
He let out a quiet breath, almost inaudible. “Nothing. Just… rest well, alright? I’ve got sothing to take care of. Talk later.”
Clarissa nodded, smiling faintly. “Okay… Take care of yourself too.”
A hint of warmth flickered in William’s voice. “Yeah… you too.”
Just as Clarissa ended the call and turned around, she jumped in shock. Atticus was standing right behind her, his expression unreadable, eyes dark and fixed on her.
“Aah!” she yelped, instinctively scooting back. Her balance slipped and she nearly toppled off the sofa—until Atticus reached out and caught her by the waist, lifting her effortlessly.
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