Right at that mont, Ophelia appeared in the doorway.
She took in the awkward tension between the two of them, the strange energy still thick in the air.
Ophelia walked briskly to her daughter’s side. “Clarissa? What’s going on in here?”
“I—uh… Atticus,” Clarissa stamred, avoiding eye contact, “He burned his hand. I was cooling it under the water.”
Ophelia turned to Atticus, alard, and caught sight of the angry red mark on his arm.
“Oh, sweetheart! That burn looks awful. Clarissa, how could you be so careless?” she scolded, already taking Atticus’s good hand. “Co, let’s get so ointnt on that right away.”
She turned back briefly. “Clarissa! Don’t just stand there—go grab the first aid kit!”
Clarissa exhaled slowly, and rushed to the cabinet to fetch the dicine box.
Once they’d dressed Atticus’s burn, the four of them piled into Nathaniel’s car and headed to the cetery.
On the way, Clarissa leaned close to Ophelia and whispered, “Mom, can we talk in private for a bit?”
Atticus watched them from the other side of the car, raising a brow in amusent.
Without hesitation, he opened the passenger-side door for Clarissa and Ophelia to get in.
As Nathaniel prepared to start the engine, his phone buzzed.
“Hello? Dorian?” he answered, glancing toward the back seat. “Yes, Clarissa’s with us—we’re on our way to pay respects to Mrs. Clentine... Oh? You’re nearby? Alright. I’ll send you the address.”
Ophelia turned, surprised. “What’s going on? Why’s Dorian calling?”
“He’s in the area and said he wants to co by. I sent him the location. He’ll et us there.”
The ntion of Dorian made Atticus’s eyes narrow. What’s he doing here?
He looked into the rearview mirror and caught the slight furrow between Clarissa’s brows. There was a flicker of distaste in her expression.
Atticus’s lips curled into a smirk. Without a word, he settled comfortably back in his seat.
“Uncle, let’s get going.”
......
When they arrived, Ophelia’s mood lifted at the sight of her son-in-law. She stepped forward eagerly.
“Dorian! Where’s Lyra?”
“She’s resting. I thought I’d co pay my respects first, then go pick her up,” Dorian replied smoothly.
He hadn’t originally planned on showing up, but the mont he heard Clarissa would be there, sothing else got the better of him.
His eyes drifted toward her imdiately.
Clarissa stood quietly a few steps away, clad in a pristine white dress that shimred softly in the sunlight. A single white callia adorned her collarbone—a simple accent that made her look both ethereal and heartbreakingly beautiful.
Dorian blinked.
He used to think that white was Lyra’s color. But Clarissa… in white, she owned it.
His gaze lingered a second too long.
And that’s when Atticus stepped in. Tall and broad-shouldered, he moved directly into Dorian’s line of sight, blocking Clarissa completely.
Under Atticus’s quiet protection, Clarissa turned and followed Nathaniel and Ophelia up the path without even glancing at Dorian.
Dorian clenched his jaw. Beside him, Atticus let out a low, amused chuckle.
“Mr. Dorian,” he said lazily. "What are you looking at?"
Dorian shot him a sharp glare. “And what does that have to do with you?”
Their eyes locked—ice against fire—and the air around them seed to crackle.
“Oh, it has everything to do with ,” Atticus said, smiling with thinly veiled nace. “If you were looking at your own wife, no one would care. But soone else’s woman? That’s a problem.”
Dorian’s lip curled. “You? You’re calling yourself a man now? You think Clarissa’s really interested in a virgin like you?”
Atticus’s gaze turned glacial. “Other won might impress you—but I only want Clarissa.” He leaned in close, voice low and lethal. “Unlike you, you've had many won besides Lyra. And maybe that’s why she never wanted you.”
He gave a cold smile. “Even I’m disgusted. Clarissa deserves better than soone… open to the public, let’s say.”
“You little—”
Dorian’s fury exploded. He grabbed Atticus by the collar in one swift motion.
But Atticus didn’t resist, he just looked at him with a sly, dangerous smile.
Dorian's expression darkened, and just as he opened his mouth to speak, a sharp voice cut through the thick tension behind him.
“Dorian! What are you doing?!” Clarissa’s voice was tight with alarm. Her eyes locked on Atticus, panic flashing in them.
Dorian’s jaw clenched. With a scoff, he shoved Atticus away.
Atticus stumbled back a few steps, Clarissa rushed to his side, instinctively reaching out to steady him.
“Atticus, are you okay? Did he hit you?”
Atticus smiled faintly. “No, Mr. Dorian just seems to dislike . Should I apologize again?”
His words made Clarissa’s expression shift. Her eyes darkened, and fury surged behind them like a gathering storm.
She turned toward Dorian, her voice like ice. “Dorian, I made myself very clear the last ti. If you have a grudge to settle—take it out on . But if you ever lay a hand on him again, I won’t stay silent.”
Her words struck hard and fast, reverberating in the thick sumr air just as Ophelia and Nathaniel arrived at the scene. All eyes turned on Dorian.
“Dorian,” Ophelia said, her brows knitting together, “didn’t you say last ti it was all a misunderstanding?”
Nathaniel added sternly, “What’s going on here?”
“I—” Dorian was, for the first ti, completely at a loss.
He looked at Clarissa. Then he glanced at Atticus, who t his eyes with that smug, unreadable smile.
Dorian’s blood boiled. His fists clenched at his sides.
But Clarissa had already turned away, tugging Atticus with her without another glance.
As they walked away, Atticus leaned closer to her, half-laughing. “Sis, you don’t need to get so worked up. I’m really fine.”
Clarissa glared at him. “Why didn’t you fight back?”
Atticus blinked, all wide-eyed innocence. “If it were any other ti, I would’ve. But your parents were there. I want to leave a good impression, don’t I?”
Clarissa froze for a second, her heart skipping a beat. Her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink.
“Don’t—don’t say things like that...” she muttered, flustered.
Atticus grinned and slipped his fingers around hers from behind.
“What’s wrong with that? I want dad and mom to like . Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Don’t call that!” she hissed, trying to pull her hand away. “Soone might see us. Let go, right now—”
But Atticus was in no rush to let go. He leaned in close, his breath brushing the shell of her ear. “Kiss ... and I’ll let go.”
“Atticus!” she hissed again.
“Just kidding, sis,” he said with a chuckle, finally loosening his grip. “Don’t be mad.”
She barely had ti to exhale before he leaned in—quick as lightning—and stole a kiss, soft and teasing, just a brush of lips that made her breath catch in her throat.
Before she could even scold him, he straightened up with a boyish grin.
“I’ll go get the wine!”
And with that, he darted off, leaving Clarissa standing there, lips tingling, cheeks burning.
"Are you two together?" The voice behind her was low and venomous.
Clarissa spun around—and there stood Dorian, his eyes dark, expression unreadable.
She had no idea how long he’d been standing there, or how much he’d seen. But she refused to let it shake her.
Her tone was cool, dismissive. “What are you talking about? I don’t know what you an.”
“That guy’s bad news,” Dorian snapped, stepping closer. “You should stay away from him before he uses you and walks away with your money.”
Clarissa’s expression turned to ice. “Dorian, who the hell do you think you are to talk about him like that?”
No matter how complicated things were between her and Atticus, Dorian had no right to speak about him.
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