Clarissa wasn’t exactly a financial expert, but she had something better—insider knowledge.

  In the novel, Dorian was a legendary business tycoon. His love life might have been a complete disaster, but his financial instincts were top-tier.

  And he was rich—insanely rich. He once handed her a check for hundreds of millions without blinking.

  All she had to do was buy the stocks she knew would skyrocket in the future.

  Her gaze landed on Easy Cloud Technology.

  Perfect.

  "Well, well… Young lady, you’ve got quite an eye for stocks."

  A voice interrupted her thoughts.

  Clarissa tensed, immediately aware of someone standing behind her. Instinctively, she straightened, her sharp gaze locking onto the intruder.

  The man before her was old, but there was a sharpness in his eyes that belied his years. His white hair was neatly combed back, and his presence carried a quiet authority.

  Still, she didn’t appreciate people sneaking up on her.

  "Old man, don’t you think it’s rude to pry into someone else’s business?"

  She didn’t care that he was elderly. She didn’t like strangers getting too close.

  The man blinked in surprise.

  Then, to her irritation, he chuckled.

  Before he could reply, the younger man beside him bristled. "Do you even know who this is? How dare you—"

  "Enough," the old man interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. His gaze softened as he turned back to Clarissa. "You’re right. That was rude of me."

  His apology was surprisingly sincere.

  Clarissa hesitated, then exhaled. "I may have overreacted. If I was out of line, I apologize."

  The old man chuckled again, clearly amused. "No harm done."

  Without waiting for permission, he took a seat beside her. Clarissa tensed slightly. "Old sir, you…"

  "Relax," he said, waving a hand. "I just have a question. Why did you pick these stocks?"

  Clarissa studied him warily.

  It was odd for a teenage girl to invest in lesser-known stocks like Easy Cloud Technology. No wonder he was curious.

  Of course, she couldn’t exactly tell him, Oh, I read about it in a book where the male lead makes billions off it.

  Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

  Instead, she carefully repeated the investment strategies the novel’s protagonist had once bragged about.

  To her surprise, the old man nodded along, listening intently.

  "You’re young, but you have quite the discerning eye," he mused. "That’s not easy to come by. What’s your name?"

  "Clarissa," she answered before hesitating. "And you, sir…?"

  The man didn’t reply right away. Instead, he repeated her name under his breath, as if turning it over in his mind. Why did it sound so familiar?

  Before he could dwell on it, his assistant stepped forward. "Sir, we should head back. There’s still—"

  "Yes, yes, I know," the old man said with a dismissive wave.

  He stood, leaning lightly on his cane.

  "Clarissa," he said, his expression unreadable. "I have to go. But I do hope we meet again."

  The stocks Clarissa had invested in weren’t exactly popular choices. In fact, most people in the industry wouldn’t even spare them a second glance. But for those who had been navigating the business world for decades, spotting potential in the unexpected was second nature.

  Some companies could be revived. Others were doomed to fade into obscurity.

  And that girl… she wasn’t simple.

  A sleek, stretched Lincoln waited at the curb. The assistant hurried to open the door as the old man approached.

  Settling into the backseat, he leaned against his cane, deep in thought.

  "Clarissa…" he murmured. "Why does that name sound so familiar?"

  The assistant hesitated, then said, "The young master’s former fiancée was named Clarissa."

  The old man stilled. Now he remembered. Before his son’s passing, he had arranged a marriage between Dorian and the Lancaster family's daughter.

  But Dorian had always despised the idea of an arranged marriage. He resented anything his father imposed on him and made a point of rebelling at every opportunity.

  After his father’s accident, that rebellion had only intensified.

  Still, the boy was sharp—far sharper than his father had been. Under Dorian’s control, the company had flourished, expanding at an even faster pace than before. As long as the business thrived, the old man had little reason to interfere in the affairs of the younger generation.

  Because of that, he had never met Clarissa himself. But his late son’s wife had spoken of her often—an elegant young lady, well-versed in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. Not to mention her striking beauty. By all accounts, she had been the perfect match for Dorian.

  Then came the scandal.

  A shocking revelation: the real and fake daughters of the Lancaster family. The entire city had been talking about it.

  Dorian, however, had already been deeply infatuated with another woman—a commoner, no less. His mother had been furious, ranting to the old man on multiple occasions about her son’s stubbornness and refusal to accept Clarissa.

  But in the end, the truth came out. The commoner girl Dorian had fallen for… was the real daughter of the Lancaster family.

  The old man sighed, tapping his fingers against his cane. "Look into her," he instructed. "Find out if she’s the same Clarissa."

  If she was, then things had become quite interesting. Even if she no longer carried the Lancaster name, she had the talent, looks, and character to stand on her own. If she was the original fiancée, then Dorian’s past rejection might have been a mistake.

  And if she wasn’t? Well, he still liked the girl.

  And if Dorian didn’t end up with that Lyra after all… introducing him to Clarissa wouldn’t be a bad idea.

  The old man’s eyes darkened slightly. Perhaps it was time to pay the Lancaster family a visit himself.

  Clarissa felt uneasy the entire way home, a strange premonition gnawing at the back of her mind.

  And then—

  "Atticus! Pack your shit and get out right now, or I’m throwing it all out the window!"

  “I’ll pay double the rent.”

  “No can do.” The landlord shook his head, looking genuinely distressed. “Even if you paid triple, it wouldn’t make up for my losses. I need to rent out the other rooms, or my wife’s taking the kids and leaving me!”

  Clarissa turned toward the voice and spotted Atticus standing in the attic across from her, facing the landlord. From her angle, she couldn’t see his face clearly, but she noticed the way his thin shoulders trembled ever so slightly.

  Atticus took a deep breath and looked up at the landlord. “Alright, I’ll move. Just give me some time.”

  “You’ve got half an hour. If you’re not out by then, I’ll throw all your shit out the window!”