“You really pick things up fast,” she murmured. “I’ll sign you up for a proper piano class in a few days.” With his level of talent, he’d surpass her in less than a year.

  But instead of lighting up, Atticus paused. A strange flicker crossed his face. He shook his head. “No…”

  Clarissa blinked. “What’s wrong? I thought you liked it. Don’t you?”

  Atticus hesitated, lips pressing into a thin line. The truth was, he didn’t really like anything. Nothing challenged him—not books, not basketball, not the piano. He could master anything, but none of it meant anything.

  He wasn’t interested in things that came too easily. His gaze drifted to Clarissa, lingering. Then his lips parted. “Clarissa…”

  She frowned, not unkindly. “Shouldn’t you call me sister?” she reminded him. Her voice was soft but firm. “I’m your guardian now, remember?”

  Atticus didn’t answer immediately. He clearly didn’t like the word—but after a beat, something shifted in his eyes. He looked up at her, and this time, his voice was smooth, almost too sweet.

  “Sister…” he said, softer than usual. “I want to learn from you. I don’t want to go anywhere else.”

  Clarissa was caught off guard. She’d never seen him like this before. Was he… being affectionate?

  Her heart warmed without warning. He was opening up. Maybe, finally, he was starting to trust her.

  Her smile bloomed, eyes glinting with a gentle pride. “Yeah. But you should know, my skill is… limited.”

  She laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’ll probably outgrow my lessons in a few months.”

  Atticus looked down, lashes casting shadows over his eyes. “That’s okay,” he murmured. “You once said music isn’t about achievement or fame. It’s about calming the soul. Finding peace.”

  Clarissa’s smile deepened. So he had remembered her words. Her chest felt warm. She reached out and lightly touched his shoulder.

  “In that case,” she said, “you’ll be my student from now on. I’ll teach you everything I know.” And maybe, just maybe, she could change his guarded, distant nature in the process.

  But from where she couldn’t see, Atticus’s lips curled into the faintest of smirks. His eyes, cold and unreadable, gleamed with something darker.

  He let his fingers float back over the piano keys, tapping them lightly, almost playfully. “By the way,” he said casually, “you haven’t had any trouble at school lately, have you?”

  Clarissa raised an eyebrow. He was asking me? Shouldn’t I be asking hum that? But she answered him anyway. “No one's brave enough to cause trouble for me. My reputation, you know. If anything, people avoid me.”

  Atticus didn’t reply right away. He pressed a low note, letting the vibration linger in the air. “And what about the one who scratched your face before?” he asked, voice flat. “What was her name... June?”

  Clarissa blinked in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to bring that up. “Oh. Right. June…” she trailed off, thoughtful. “Now that you mention it, she’s basically vanished. Haven’t seen her around lately at all.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  It was odd. June had always been glued to Lyra, and with William and Clarissa now in the spotlight together, Clarissa had half-expected a new storm of jealousy and drama.

  She frowned. “It’s strange. I thought she’d make a scene by now. But she hasn’t done anything.”

  Beside her, Atticus smiled—a slow, icy thing that didn’t touch his eyes.

  “Maybe…” he said, his voice smooth, “she’s just busy lately.”

  The next morning, Clarissa pulled up to campus in her sleek white convertible, the engine purring to a stop just outside the school gate.

  A few steps away, she spotted Dorian—someone she hadn’t seen in a while. He was standing there with Lyra, his expression softer than usual as he gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

  Lyra blushed under his gaze, her voice barely audible. “Dorian… you don’t have to keep picking me up like this. If your mom finds out, she might think I’m being a burden…”

  Dorian smiled faintly, brushing off her concern. “No trouble at all.”

  The two stood there talking quietly, lingering like a couple suspended in their own little world.

  Then came the sharp roar of an engine. Clarissa’s sports car slid gracefully into a nearby spot, catching the attention of everyone nearby. When she stepped out, the campus seemed to pause for a second.

  She was stunning—her long, curve-hugging skirt swayed with each step, revealing long, toned legs. Her dark, slightly curled hair spilled past her waist, catching the morning light. The elegance in her stride, the unbothered confidence on her face—Clarissa didn’t need to try. She simply was.

  Dorian’s gaze flicked to her—uninvited, involuntary—and lingered a moment too long.

  Clarissa, of course, didn’t even glance at him. To her, Dorian and Lyra were just people in the background—irrelevant.

  His expression tightened. But just then, a low voice called out. “Clarissa.”

  She stopped and turned slightly, her brows lifting in mild surprise.

  William was walking toward her from across the courtyard, his usual cool composure intact. Lyra was still within sight, yet here he was, greeting Clarissa openly.

  “Good morning, William,” she said with a soft smile.

  He paused at her side, his eyes flickering briefly to hers. “Morning.” His lips parted, as if he wanted to say more, but the words didn’t come right away.

  Clarissa knew William wasn’t the most eloquent conversationalist—his quietness was part of his charm, honestly. She filled the silence with light small talk, tossing in casual observations as they began walking toward the building.

  He replied, sometimes dry, sometimes thoughtful. When she joked, he even smiled.

  Over the last few weeks of filming, they’d worked closely. And Clarissa had learned something unexpected: behind that icy exterior, William was actually… warm. Thoughtful. Diligent.

  He was the kind of man who wouldn’t say much, but when he did, he meant it. He wasn’t just another pretty face. He studied hard for every scene, asked questions when he didn’t understand, and treated the entire crew with quiet respect.

  Still, she kept her distance. William was close to Lyra, and Clarissa had learned her lesson. She had no intention of walking into another minefield.

  But from a distance, Dorian and Lyra had both noticed the interaction.

  Lyra blinked. “When did my sister and William get so close? I never saw them talk like that before.”

  Dorian’s voice was cool, with a trace of tension. “You know him?”

  Lyra quickly explained, “He used to live next door. We grew up together… but I always thought of him like a brother. He’s just… protective, that’s all. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

  He hummed noncommittally, eyes locked on Clarissa and William as they disappeared into the building. “How did he and Clarissa even meet?”

  “Maybe during that campus video shoot last month. They were on the poster together—everyone saw it.”

  Dorian didn’t respond immediately, but something dark flickered behind his eyes. He masked it quickly, turning his attention back to Lyra. “Class is starting. I need to get to the office.”

  Lyra smiled. “Drive safe.” She turned and walked briskly toward the classroom, heels clicking against the pavement.

  Dorian stood still for a moment, watching the entrance where Clarissa had vanished. His jaw clenched.

  June was late again. Lately, she’d been dragging herself into class every morning, always arriving after the bell, always looking like she hadn’t slept a wink. Her eyes were dull, rimmed with shadows, her usual spark buried beneath fatigue.