When the clock struck midnight, he finally glanced back, the sound pulling him from his thoughts. He rose, showered, changed, and sank onto the sofa.

He lit a cigarette. Then another. Then another.

By dawn, the ashtray was overflowing, smoke curling in thin, bitter trails around him.

.....

Time seemed to stop at ten that morning. The faint click of a fingerprint lock broke the silence.

Atticus turned toward the sound—his gaze instantly locking onto Clarissa, who stood just behind Phoenix.

The moment Clarissa stepped inside, the sharp tang of cigarette smoke hit her. She frowned.

She hadn’t known he smoked. Not that it mattered anymore.

Phoenix didn’t spare him a glance. Behind her, a group of Wraith family members moved in briskly, following her signal. They headed straight for the master bedroom, efficiently gathering and carrying out all of Clarissa’s belongings.

Atticus sat there and watched. Silent. Expressionless. He didn’t try to stop them.

When the last box was moved out, Phoenix took Clarissa’s hand and guided her to the couch across from him. “Clarissa,” she said softly, “you can talk now.”

Clarissa lifted her eyes to Atticus. The two people who had once shared everything now looked at each other like strangers.

There was no anger in her eyes—no pain, no hatred—only calm detachment. That quiet indifference cut deeper than any scream.

Atticus’s hands clenched at his sides, veins standing out beneath his skin.

Clarissa pulled a small box from her bag and pushed it toward him. “Your money’s in these cards,” she said flatly. “I’ve repaid every cent I spent. Not a penny less. This place belongs to the Lancaster family, not to me. You can keep it, or sell it—I don’t care.”

Atticus’s gaze flicked to the cards. His expression darkened. “Clarissa, are you really that heartless?”

She let out a quiet laugh, bitter and tired. “When did you ever show me love, Atticus? Don’t you think it’s a little late for that word now?”

She shook her head and looked away. She didn’t want to face him anymore.

She’d been stupid once—too trusting, too hopeful. She wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

Atticus was pitiful in his own way, but he was also terrifying. He’d never laid a hand on her, never shouted, never lost control. Yet she’d never known what he truly thought, or if he felt anything at all.

He was a man carved out of ice, and she was just an ordinary woman who wanted warmth. They had never belonged to the same world.

All she’d ever wanted—since the day she woke in this strange life—was peace. A quiet home. A place where she could simply breathe. She’d turned her back on Dorian, on Lyra, even on the Lancaster estate.

She had tried to show Atticus kindness. She’d hoped he would see the good in people, in life, in love. But nothing had changed. He never changed.

She’d learned her lesson. Stay clear-headed. Don’t drown in what’s gone. Life’s too damn short to waste it on misery.

She exhaled softly and stood. “Let’s go, Phoenix.”

Phoenix nodded, her voice low. “Alright.”

Through it all, she had held her tongue, keeping her fury in check for Clarissa’s sake.

Clarissa walked toward the door without looking back.

Atticus’s eyes followed her, his chest tightening until it felt like something inside him tore apart. Blood roared in his ears.

“Clarissa!”

Her name ripped from him, hoarse and raw.

He moved to follow her, but Phoenix’s people closed ranks, blocking his path.

“Phoenix!” His gaze snapped to her.

Phoenix met his eyes, her expression cold as steel. “Didn’t you hear her? She’s done with you, Atticus. Stay the hell away from her. If you show your face in front of her again, the Wraith family will deal with you.”

Atticus’s lips curled into a thin, mocking smile. “The Wraith family?” he drawled, voice low and dangerous. “You really think you can take me on?”

Phoenix’s eyes narrowed. “Try me. If it weren’t for Clarissa, I’d have killed you already.”

Her words hung heavy in the air.

Behind her, four of her people shifted, ready for a fight. Delilah had already lifted her flute—its faint silver gleam reflected in Atticus’s dark eyes.

A flicker of calculation crossed his face. Then, with a slow step back, he said, almost casually, “Go ahead. Take care of Clarissa for me.”

Phoenix frowned, suspicious of his sudden compliance. She turned sharply and left, leading the others out.

Soon the apartment was empty, stripped bare of Clarissa’s things. The silence that followed was deafening.

Atticus stood alone, staring at the space where she had been. Then, suddenly, he laughed—low at first, then louder, until it broke into wild, bitter hysteria.

When the laughter died, his face twisted back into shadow. His eyes gleamed darkly, a cruel promise flickering within.

“Clarissa,” he whispered, voice like a blade, “I’ll come for you later.”

......

Inside the Wraith estate, Clarissa’s expression remained unnervingly calm.

Across from her, Phoenix and Delilah kept their eyes fixed on her—watching, assessing, worrying.

Clarissa felt heat rise to her cheeks. “If you’ve got something to say, just say it. Don’t look at me like that.”

The two women exchanged a glance. Phoenix gave Delilah a small nod, and Delilah caught on immediately. She stepped forward with a bright smile and grabbed Clarissa’s hand.

“It’s fine, it’s fine, Clarissa. Come on—let’s go for a walk. I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Clarissa didn’t resist. She let Delilah lead her away, her voice soft. “Alright.”

Phoenix stood there, watching the two of them until their figures disappeared around the corner. Only then did she turn away, her expression unreadable.

Maximilian approached quietly. “Phoenix, are you still worried about Miss Clarissa?”

Phoenix’s gaze flicked toward him. “Tell me something, Maximilian. Do you think Clarissa’s just pretending she’s fine? Or has she really let it go?”

He thought for a moment before answering. “I don’t think she’s pretending. Clarissa’s always been strong. Remember how she handled the Dorian situation? She’s the kind of person who can let things go.”

But his reassurance didn’t soften Phoenix’s expression—it only deepened the tension in her brow.

“You’re hiding something,” Maximilian said carefully.

Phoenix shook her head. “Forget it. For now, just make sure Delilah stays with her. Twenty-four hours, no exceptions. Don’t leave her alone.”

“Understood.” Maximilian bowed slightly and left to carry out the order.

Clarissa and Delilah had gone to the back hills, where the air was fresh and the world felt mercifully quiet.

Abyss was already there, bounding around the grass. For all his size, he was gentle by nature. Even on the streets, he wouldn’t harm a fly, though he rarely let anyone other than Delilah touch him.

But the moment he saw Clarissa, his tail started wagging furiously. He barreled toward her, knocking her flat onto the soft green grass and covering her face in slobbery kisses.

“Ah! That tickles—Abyss, stop! Stop it!” Clarissa laughed helplessly, trying to push his heavy head away.

By the time she managed to get him off her, her face was slick with dog drool. She sat up, laughing breathlessly, and dabbed at her face with a handkerchief.

Abyss tilted his massive head to one side, watching her curiously with bright amber eyes.

Clarissa caught his puzzled look and burst out laughing again. “Don’t look at me like that! I’m not mad at you..”

She reached over and rubbed his head affectionately, burying her face briefly in his fur. Abyss closed his eyes and thumped his tail against the grass, blissfully content.

A moment later, footsteps approached. Clarissa turned to see Delilah walking up and smiling at her.

“Where did you go just now?” Clarissa asked.

“The wild fruits in the hills are ripe. I went to pick some.” Delilah lifted a small basket from her arm. “Want to try?”

Only then did Clarissa notice the basket—filled with brightly colored berries and tiny peaches, glistening in the light. They looked almost too perfect to eat.

Clarissa smiled. “They look amazing. Let’s wash them first.”

They walked down to the stream and began rinsing the fruit. The sound of running water mixed with their quiet laughter. But halfway through, Delilah’s phone suddenly rang.

She glanced at the screen—and her face changed.

“Oh no,” she muttered under her breath, before quickly answering. “William? Hey, I’m so sorry—Phoenix called me back for something urgent. I can’t make it to your place today.”

On the other end, William’s tone softened. “It’s fine. Work comes first.”

“Thanks for understanding,” she said quickly. “I’ll drop by when things calm down.”

“Alright. Take care,” he replied before the call ended.

When Delilah turned back around, she found Clarissa watching her with a faint smile.

“Clarissa?” Delilah blinked.

“I finished washing the fruit,” Clarissa said lightly, holding up a bowl. “Which one do you want first?”

Delilah laughed, relieved, and grabbed a plump peach. She bit into it, juice running down her wrist.

They sat side by side by the lake, sharing fruit as the afternoon sun glimmered off the water. Delilah could feel it—Clarissa’s mood had lifted. Her laughter came easier now. Her eyes looked brighter.

Delilah didn’t quite understand what had changed—but she wasn’t about to question it.

By the time they headed down the hill, night had fallen. The stars hung quietly over the estate, and the moonlight rippled across the lake.

Inside, Phoenix was still at her desk, buried in family business. She was working faster than usual, trying to clear her schedule. Once everything was handled, she planned to spend more time by Clarissa’s side.

Maximilian sat nearby, silently keeping her company as the night deepened.

“Phoenix is like this most of the time,” Xerxes said with a small sigh. “When she’s working, she forgets to eat. I’ll have food sent over later. Miss Clarissa, would you like to eat with Miss Delilah first?”

Delilah was starving, but she didn’t dare say a word, staying quietly by Clarissa’s side.

Clarissa glanced at her, amused and a little moved, then turned to Xerxes. “Alright, please go ahead.”

Xerxes nodded and left to prepare the meal.

At the table, Clarissa ate with her usual healthy appetite, sharing the dishes with Delilah. The two of them ate well, chatting softly between bites.

By the time Phoenix emerged from the study, the sight that greeted her made her smile—a table full of empty plates and two content faces.

“I’ve been working my ass off in the study,” Phoenix teased, “and you two are already eating without me.”

Clarissa wiped her mouth and smiled. “Xerxes said he was bringing your share.”

Phoenix sat down beside them, still smiling. “Clarissa, are you feeling alright today?”

“I’m fine,” Clarissa said honestly. “I played around all afternoon and feel much better now.”

“That’s good to hear. So when are you planning to go back to the office?”

“Next week, maybe.”

“So soon?”

Clarissa nodded. “Yes. I’ve already made up my mind.”