The next morning, Atticus was already up. He washed, dressed, and finished packing. Only after the servant brought breakfast did he finally walk over and call her.
“Clarissa, ti to get up. We need to head out.”
Clarissa had barely gotten three hours of sleep. Her eyes were still heavy with exhaustion.
Won are softest and most defenseless when they’re half-asleep…
Right now, she was curled lazily in his arms, her voice soft and muffled. “Still sleepy…”
“You can sleep on the plane. Co eat sothing first, hmm?”
Clarissa reluctantly opened her eyes and dragged herself toward the bathroom, hoping cold water would help clear her head.
Atticus watched her shuffling like a zombie and couldn’t hold back a laugh.
She was probably up all night thinking about what happened between them. No wonder she looked like this.
He’d already taken care of everything—Clarissa just had to double-check.
As the two were about to leave, Gabriel showed up to see them off in person. He turned to Atticus and said, “Mr. Atticus, may I speak with you privately?”
Atticus instinctively glanced toward Clarissa.
She gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. Go ahead—I trust you.”
A subtle warmth flickered in Atticus’s eyes. He nodded. “Alright.”
The sun was already strong, so Clarissa stepped aside and found so shade under a tree to wait.
That’s when a sweet, almost cloying voice broke the quiet.
“Clarissa.”
She turned, startled, and saw Yuriko Nomiya standing not far away in an elaborate purple kimono.
Yuriko looked especially striking today. Her kimono was vivid, adorned with delicate embroidery. She held a small silk sachet of fruit-scented charms in front of her, and her hair was done up with matching beads that glittered under the sun.
After what happened last night, Clarissa's guard imdiately went up. Her gaze cooled.
Yuriko lowered her eyes, a hint of sadness darkening them. “Clarissa, I ca to apologize. I’m sorry about what happened yesterday…”
“Ms. Nomiya, it’s fine.” Clarissa’s tone was flat, her frown barely visible—but it was there.
“I really do like Atticus,” Yuriko continued, her voice soft, trembling slightly. “I admire him deeply. I lost control last night. I was scared that once you two left, I’d never see him again… I just wanted to leave sothing behind. I didn’t an to co between you.”
“But that wasn’t the way to go about it,” Clarissa replied calmly. “Feelings should be mutual.”
Yuriko’s eyes shimred with unshed tears, and Clarissa felt a headache coming on.
Should she scold Yuriko right here, or bla Atticus for being too damn irresistible?
She took a deep breath and said coolly, “It’s over now, Miss Nomiya. But I think it’s best we keep our distance from now on.”
With that, Clarissa took a small step back, widening the space between them. “Atticus is coming. Please excuse .”
Yuriko’s expression didn’t change, but her hands clenched quietly in front of her silk pouch.
She nodded, calm as ever, and took a step back before bowing deeply.
“I truly am sorry.” Her bow was perfect—precise, a full ninety degrees.
Clarissa stiffened slightly. She turned her head away, uncomfortable. “You can go now.”
Yuriko slowly raised her head, a soft, demure smile curling at the edge of her lips.
Clarissa looked at her and, in that mont, finally understood what Atticus had ant last night.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Yuriko beat her to it.
“Clarissa… do you really understand Atticus? Do you know what he truly needs?”
Clarissa froze. Her expression faltered.
Yuriko smiled again, gently—eerily patient. “One day, you’ll see what I an. Until then, I wish you happiness.”
With another graceful bow, Yuriko turned and walked away, her kimono rustling faintly behind her.
Clarissa stared at Yuriko Nomiya’s retreating figure, her mind blank. She stood there for a long mont, unable to pull herself back to reality—until she heard a familiar voice beside her.
“Clarissa? …Clarissa?”
She blinked and turned, looking up. “Atticus?”
Atticus narrowed his eyes slightly. “Where did your mind go just now? I called your na three tis and you didn’t hear .”
“It’s nothing,” she said, shaking her head and forcing a small smile. “Are you done talking?”
“Yeah. It’s all settled.”
“Then let’s go.”
Clarissa reached for her suitcase, but as soon as she grabbed the handle, Atticus caught her wrist and gently pulled her back.
“I’ve got it.”
“No—you’re still injured.” Clarissa dodged his hand and walked ahead on her own.
Atticus stood still for a second, watching her with unreadable eyes. Sothing flickered across his face—sharp and deep.
Clarissa had barely stepped outside when a familiar voice called out to her.
“Clarissa.”
She turned instinctively and saw Lawrence approaching.
He wore a crisp shirt and vest, his posture graceful, refined. Gold-rimd glasses frad his eyes, giving him the appearance of a nobleman stepped out from so tiless portrait. Every movent was calm, elegant, composed.
“Lawrence…” she said softly.
He stopped a few steps away, his gaze warm and gentle. “Are you heading back?”
“Mhm… Atticus is injured. He can’t manage much on his own right now, so I want to take him sowhere better to recover.”
Lawrence nodded thoughtfully. “This isn’t the best place for healing anyway. And…”
He paused, as if he had more to say, but instead only offered a faint smile.
“Here—this is for you.”
He handed her a small, velvet box. Clarissa hesitated but took it, lifting the lid.
Inside was a stunning ruby necklace set.
She recognized it instantly—it was the sa one she’d worn at the dinner party.
“But… you weren’t even there that night,” she said, surprised.
“I had to leave for a while,” he replied calmly. “But you were unforgettable, even from a distance. You looked incredible in red. It suits you so well—it should belong to you. So I bought it from Gabriel.”
Clarissa’s heart skipped a beat. She closed the box and tried to hand it back. “No, it’s too much. I can’t accept sothing like this.”
Lawrence’s smile was steady. “Please, keep it. There’s no hidden aning. Honestly, I’ve wanted to give you sothing for a long ti… but nothing ever felt good enough. Until now.”
He paused, then added, “Clarissa, I truly admire you.”
Her expression froze for a second.
“Not in a romantic way,” he clarified quickly. “The first ti I saw you, it felt… familiar, like I’d known you forever. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to treat you like a sister. You can think of the sa way.”
Clarissa was taken aback—but touched. There was sothing unique about Lawrence. An odd sense of comfort. Trust.
She nodded. “Of course. I’d like that. But… this gift is still too valuable. I really can’t take it.”
Lawrence didn’t waver. “Take it,” he said firmly. “It’s not just a gift—it’s a symbol of what I hope for you.”
She blinked. “Your hopes?”
Lawrence looked directly into her eyes. “You don’t have to hold back so much. You’re ant to shine. That red—it’s not just a color on you, it’s who you are. Don’t let the world dull you. Don’t give up your fire just because soone else tells you it’s too bright.”
As he spoke, his gaze shifted—settling on the man standing behind her. Atticus.
A glint of aning flickered behind Lawrence’s glasses. “I’m leaving. Take care of yourself.”
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Clarissa standing frozen in place, unable to react for a long mont.
His words had pierced her like a thorn — small but sharp, hitting exactly where she was most vulnerable.
For years, she had trained herself to fade into the background. She wasn’t the heroine of this story. She was the supporting role, and supporting roles didn’t compete with the leads.
That’s why, whenever she showed up to an event, she kept a low profile. At work, she stayed behind the scenes. Her clothes, her makeup, even her posture — everything was understated, restrained.
But Lawrence… He had seen through it all.
Who was he really?
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