Chapter 29: Where are you going
Meanwhile, inside the other room, Anna refused to leave the bed. She sat there stiff, replaying Daniel’s words in her mind.
’When... and how did I kiss him?’
The thought scurried through her head like a pesky mouse that refused to leave the house, no matter how many times you chased it out.
"Arghhh!" she suddenly screamed, yanking her hands through her hair until it looked like a bird’s nest. With a huff, she shot to her feet and began pacing like a lunatic.
"He’s lying. He has to be lying!" she muttered, stabbing the air with her finger as if Daniel were right in front of her.
Anna would never kiss him—consciously, at least. Not in this lifetime.
She puffed her cheeks, crossing her arms with a pout. "I’d sooner kiss a dog than kiss that arrogant man!"
The declaration echoed through the empty room, bold and dramatic. But as the silence returned, her lips twitched, and she muttered under her breath—
"...though I did dream about kissing him once."
Her face flamed, and she promptly buried herself back under the covers like an ostrich hiding in sand.
It took Anna some time to crawl out of her embarrassment, but once she managed, she hurried to the bathroom, splashing her face with cold water as if trying to wash away Daniel’s lingering presence.
Freshened up and calmer, she made her way to the drawer—and then suddenly froze.
Her eyes flickered.
With quick hands, she pulled it open and took out the sleek card Director Wilsmith had given her.
Her fingers brushed over the embossed letters, her lips pressing together in thought.
The dilemma still clung to her like a stubborn shadow. Was this real? Or was it just a passing whim from a man who had no shortage of aspiring actresses lining up outside his door?
Biting her lip, Anna sat down at the edge of the bed, the card resting in her palm like a secret waiting to be claimed.
"Only one way to know..." she whispered.
Grabbing her phone, she typed a message carefully, her thumbs hesitating over every word before finally hitting send:
"Good afternoon, Mr. Wilsmith. This is Anna Clafford—we met at the Anklet Studio set. If you have a little time today, I would like to meet and discuss the role you mentioned. Thank you."
The message sent, Anna tossed the phone onto the bed and exhaled sharply, clutching the card tighter.
He was generous enough to notice her once... but would he take her seriously a second time?
While Anna waited anxiously for a reply, she had no idea that Director Wilsmith was already on the phone with Daniel, discussing her very message.
Just then, Mariam entered with her usual calm presence. "Madam, the master is waiting for you at the breakfast table," she said.
Anna blinked, startled. Before she could even think of an excuse to refuse, her phone buzzed.
Her heart leapt. It was from Wilsmith.
"Yes. I have time. Meet me at my office at 10 a.m."
Relief washed through her body, only to twist into panic as her gaze darted to the clock.
"Oh no... only thirty minutes left," she muttered under her breath, shoving the phone deep into her jeans pocket.
Then—she froze. Mariam was still standing there, watching her curiously.
Anna straightened, forcing a casual smile. "Mariam, I need to step out for a while. Please tell your master I won’t be joining him for breakfast."
Without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel, her stride quick, her heart thundering. If I leave now, I’ll make it on time. He doesn’t need to know.
But the moment she reached the door—
"Where are you running off to, Anna Clafford?"
The voice cut through the hall like steel, deliberate on the last name—as though branding her with it.
Anna’s steps faltered, her body locking in place. Slowly, she turned.
There he was. Daniel stood in the living hall, posture regal, gaze sharp, like a jailor catching his prisoner mid-escape.
The corner of his lips curved—not in warmth, but in a knowing smirk that sent a shiver crawling down her spine.
She had thought he would be waiting at the breakfast table. She had thought she could slip out unseen.
But Daniel Clafford never made anything easy. Not when he had already caught her red-handed the evening before.
His eyes locked on her now, sharp and unyielding, like an eagle sizing up its prey. Anna forced an awkward smile, her lips twitching nervously as she straightened her back.
"Where would I go? Nowhere," she said too quickly. "I was just... heading to the breakfast area."
A lie. A weak one at that. But she clung to it like a shield.
Daniel’s gaze darkened with amusement, his brow arching ever so slightly. "Is that so?" His voice was velvet, dangerous. Then, slowly, he lifted his hand and pointed to his left. "Because if you were, Anna... you’re walking the wrong way. The breakfast area is here."
Her smile grew wider—unnaturally so—until it looked like it might split her face.
Silence blanketed the breakfast table, the kind that pressed on the lungs and made every small sound louder than it should be.
Anna busied herself with the food, shoving mouthfuls in as though speed alone would rescue her. But halfway through, disaster struck.
COUGH! COUGH!
She bent forward, choking, and before she could stop him, Daniel was already pushing a glass of water into her hand. His voice was curt but edged with concern.
"Are you in such a hurry, Anna? Why are you eating like you’re being chased?"
His question froze her mid-sip. Slowly, she tilted her eyes toward him, his expression unreadable. Too observant. Too steady.
Why is he watching me so closely? Her heart skipped. Was it because of what happened yesterday... or is he actually keeping an eye on me?
Suspicion flickered in her mind, but then she quickly brushed it aside. No. If he were spying on me, Mariam would have warned me.
Forcing a laugh, she set the glass down and offered him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "I’m not in a hurry. This is just... how I eat."
Another lie. Another flimsy excuse.
Daniel’s lips twitched, but he said nothing. His thoughts, however, were sharp and unwavering.
Liar.
He knew exactly where she had been planning to go. He knew she was hiding something.
And though he was secretly pulling the strings to help her, he wanted to see if Anna would ever willingly open up to him.
Because Daniel Clafford never believed in coincidences. Not when it came to Anna.
She had visited her parents, that much he knew. She had probably even tried to convince them of her divorce plan. But Hugo Bennett would never allow it—not with the kind of losses he’d face if the marriage ended.
So then... why?
’Why was Anna still so desperate to leave him? Why was she sneaking out, running behind his back?’
Daniel’s gaze slid toward her, unreadable, but inside his chest the questions burned hotter than the coffee before him.
Heaving a deep breath, Daniel slipped a hand into his suit pocket, pulled out his phone, and typed something quickly. His expression never wavered, composed and calm, before he shoved it back again as if nothing had happened.
Across the table, Anna was still chewing furiously, stuffing food into her mouth like a squirrel storing nuts for winter. But then—
Buzz.
Her phone vibrated against the table. She froze for a moment, cautiously picking it up.
"Something came up. How about we push our meeting to 11 a.m.?"
Her eyes lit with relief, a small smile tugging at her lips as she quickly tapped a thumbs-up emoji in response.
To her, it felt like a weight had lifted. More time, more space, less risk of Daniel finding out.
But what she didn’t notice was the pair of eyes watching her every move.
Daniel’s gaze was steady, sharp, and far too knowing—like a man who had already set the board and was now simply waiting for his opponent to make the next move.