Helena had locked herself in the bathroom, sobbing quietly.
Her once-flawless makeup was ruined. Even after desperately trying to fix it, her eyes remained puffy and smudged. She didn’t dare go back into the party like this. It would only give people sothing to whisper about.
She called her driver and left through the side entrance. But just halfway down the corridor, soft, heated gasps stopped her in her tracks.
“Atticus… stop… wait…” Clarissa’s voice.
Helena froze.
“I feel awful,” Atticus murmured in a low, hoarse voice. “My dear sis… can’t you love a little tonight?”
Clarissa let out a soft gasp as he pressed kisses to her neck. His hand slid dangerously close to the edge of her thigh, creeping upward.
“Wait… not here,” she whispered, panicked. “Let’s go ho first…”
Atticus grinned against her skin and scooped her up in his arms without another word. “Fine. Let’s go ho. We’ll pick this back up where we left off.”
Clarissa’s face burned. She buried herself in his chest, too stunned and overwheld to say anything else. She had no idea Helena stood just behind a pillar, watching everything.
Helena covered her mouth with trembling fingers, her tears falling silently.
She had been right. She always felt there was sothing strange between Atticus and Clarissa—so invisible current. But she never imagined it was real.
Atticus… and his own sis?
......
Back at ho, Clarissa had barely put the car in park when Atticus leaned over and wrapped his arms around her again, pulling her close.
“Let’s go,” he said, lips brushing her ear, voice low with hunger.
She squeaked, “Wait! My room—Delilah’s still sleeping there!”
But Atticus didn’t listen. He carried her straight inside, nudging open the bedroom door without knocking.
The second they stumbled onto the bed, Clarissa gasped.
“Wait—Atticus, stop! We’re not alone!”
A tiny voice groaned from beneath the covers. “Oww! What the hell—!”
Atticus yanked back the blanket, and there was Delilah, curled up and half-asleep, clutching her injured arm. Her bandage was bloodstained.
“Damn it, Atticus! Did you just fall on ?!” she snapped, teary-eyed.
Clarissa’s face went white. She scrambled out of his arms, rushing to Delilah’s side. “I’m so sorry—are you okay?!”
Delilah pouted miserably. “It hurts…”
Clarissa examined the wound—it had reopened. “Atticus! Get the first aid kit. Now!”
His face had darkened like a thundercloud. He looked like he could kill soone.
Still, at Clarissa’s glare, he finally turned and stomped off to find the dicine box.
.....
Thirty minutes later, Delilah’s arm was re-bandaged, and she was in better spirits, stretching with a lazy yawn.
“I’m starving,” she announced with a pout. “Clarissa, can we get sothing to eat?”
Atticus glared at her. “It’s the middle of the night. Where do you expect to find food?”
Delilah blinked, then turned to Clarissa with a sweet expression. “Clarissaaa…”
Clarissa laughed. “Okay, okay. I’ll order takeout. What do you want?”
Atticus huffed, picked up the dical kit, and stord out.
Clarissa let out a long sigh and stood up to shower. But just as she reached the hallway, a strong hand yanked her into the next room.
She let out a startled sound, then relaxed when she saw who it was. “Atticus?”
He shut the door behind them.
“Why is Delilah staying here?” he asked, eyes narrowed.
Clarissa gave him the quick version of the hospital visit and William’s call.
His brows furrowed. “You were with William again?”
“That’s not the point,” she sighed. “You should be worried about Delilah.”
“She’s fine,” he muttered. “That little scratch won’t kill her. But you—you were supposed to be with tonight.”
He stepped closer, pulling her into his arms. “Stay here. Just for tonight.”
Clarissa placed a hand on his chest and gave a soft shake of her head. “No. Delilah’s here. This isn’t the ti.”
She slipped out of his grasp and headed for the door.
Atticus watched her go, a sharp glint in his eyes.
Another night ruined.
......
Clarissa had just finished her shower when Delilah ca running over, clutching a can of Coke in her hand.
“You're finally out! Let’s go rest—I’m seriously wiped out,” she said, grabbing Clarissa’s hand with a sleepy smile.
Clarissa glanced around the living room, surprised to see how spotless it was. “Did you clean this?”
“Yup,” Delilah replied proudly, tugging her toward the bedroom. “Co on, I'm dead tired.”
The two of them lay down together. Clarissa glanced at Delilah’s face—rosy, bright-eyed, full of energy. There was no sign of the pale, dizzy girl from the night before.
“You're not feeling sick or anything?” she asked.
“Nope.”
Clarissa hesitated before asking, “When do you plan on going back to Phoenix?”
“I’m not,” Delilah said flatly as she turned over. “Phoenix sucks. She only calls when she needs sothing, then dumps when she’s done. I don’t want to help her anymore. I hate her.”
Clarissa chuckled softly. “Maybe you’re misunderstanding her. Phoenix just wants to protect you…”
......
“Fine, fine. I’ll forgive her. For your sake.”
Clarissa smiled. “Then tomorrow, go back with her and apologize properly, okay? She’s been worried sick, searching all night.”
Delilah hesitated, then nodded obediently. “Okay…”
......
Phoenix, who had finally gotten so sleep after Clarissa’s call, arrived early the next morning to pick up Delilah.
The mont she opened the door, she was t with the sll of breakfast and the sight of an oddly cozy dostic scene.
Atticus was calmly spreading jam on toast and passing it to Clarissa. Delilah, sitting next to him, leaned over imdiately. “I want one too!”
Atticus narrowed his eyes. “Make it yourself.”
Delilah huffed. “You’re so biased! You only spoil Clarissa!”
With an exaggerated sigh, Atticus handed over the entire slice. “Fine. Happy now?”
Delilah snatched it happily. “That’s more like it. Gim that jam too.”
She reached over and grabbed the jar straight from in front of him.
Clarissa, seeing how much Delilah liked it, nudged Atticus. “Make a few ham and chicken sandwiches too.”
Just as Atticus rolled his eyes and began prepping, Phoenix strolled in.
“Well, well. Looks like I showed up at the right ti.”
She made herself at ho and plopped down beside Clarissa. Clarissa offered her a piece of toast. “Want to stay and eat?”
“Sure.” Phoenix took it with a grin and started munching.
Once everyone had their fill, Phoenix glanced at Delilah. “Alright, ti to head back. Ready?”
Delilah froze for a second. Just as she was about to protest, Clarissa gently nudged her leg under the table.
She paused, lowered her gaze, then nodded. “Yeah. Phoenix… I’m sorry. I’ll co back with you.”
Phoenix blinked in surprise. “You’re this obedient all of a sudden? What did you say to her?” she asked Clarissa.
“Nothing much. Oh—once you’re back, give her back the big white tiger. That should keep her in line.”
Phoenix chuckled. “You're good. Next ti she causes trouble, I’m dropping her straight at your place.”
With that, she stood and left with Delilah in tow.
......
Back in the car, Delilah was busy unwrapping chocolate and snacks Phoenix had prepared for the ride. Her mood instantly lifted.
When she saw Phoenix watching her, she leaned over and hugged her tight, rubbing her cheek against hers like a spoiled cat. “Phoenix…”
Phoenix ruffled her hair. “Oh, now you rember who I am?”
“Yes! I was wrong. I’ll be good now.” Then she blinked. “By the way, what was that thing you needed my help with before?”
“There’s a prisoner I need to break. Thought your skills might help loosen his tongue.”
“No problem!” Delilah reached instinctively for the flute she always kept strapped at her waist—but her hand froze.
“…Shit. My flute’s gone!”
Phoenix’s expression changed. “Gone? You sure it’s not back at Clarissa’s?”
“I always keep it in my belt pouch. I must’ve left it there. I’ll call Clarissa—”
“No need. I’ll go,” Phoenix cut in. “You wait here.”
With that, she turned and took off, sprinting back up the stairs.
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