Chapter 52: Unapologetic kiss
Standing beneath the shower, Daniel let the cool water cascade over him, washing away the weight of the day. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts strayed back to the kitchen—back to the unexpected sight of Anna, sleeves rolled up, confidently cooking.
A low chuckle slipped past his lips. "So... she’s trying to impress me now?"
The idea amused him, but the amusement didn’t last. The image of her so absorbed, so unlike the pampered woman he thought he knew, clung stubbornly to his mind.
With a faint scoff at himself, Daniel turned off the tap, grabbed a towel, and stepped out of the bathroom—his expression composed, though his thoughts were anything but amused.
"Let’s see what my wife has prepared for me," Daniel muttered, a trace of curiosity softening his tone as he left his room.
His mood was lighter than usual—until he stepped into the dining hall.
The sight that greeted him made his steps falter.
"Woah... I never realized my food tasted this heavenly," Anna sighed dramatically, clearly enjoying every bite of the lavish spread before her.
Daniel’s lips twitched, his jaw tightening. He stormed toward the table, his expression dark.
"What are you doing?!" His voice cracked like a whip as he stopped beside her, eyes glued to the dishes laid out—the ones he had assumed were prepared for him. Yet here she was, savoring them all on her own.
Anna looked up, blinking at him in mock innocence. "Are you blind? Don’t you see I’m having dinner?"
The blunt remark landed like a slap, making his irritation spike. All that food... was for her?
Daniel pulled out a chair without asking, dragging it across the floor with enough force to make Anna flinch, and sat down right beside her.
"...Why are you sitting here?" she asked cautiously, leaning back as if to put distance between them.
Daniel, however, leaned forward, his eyes locked on her. He had walked in with expectations—expectations that now felt like illusions. Still, his pride wouldn’t let him back down.
"I heard my wife prepared this dinner for me," he said, his tone smooth but laced with iron. "So it’s my duty to appreciate her hard work by tasting it myself."
Anna blinked, stunned for a moment before scoffing. ’Who said I cooked for him?’
Turning back to her plate, Anna retorted, "Who told you this dinner was for you? And what do you mean by ’appreciation’? Keep it. I don’t need your fake kindness." She clutched the plate protectively, lifting her fork to eat again—
But Daniel’s hand shot out, halting her mid-motion. His grip was firm, his eyes narrowing with a dangerous gleam. Before Anna could retreat, he snatched a bite straight from her plate and shoved it into his mouth.
"..."
Anna froze, staring at him in sheer horror. And then—
Cough! Cough!
Daniel’s composure shattered instantly. His face twisted as his tongue caught fire, tears springing to his eyes while he hacked violently.
"What... what kind of food is this?" he rasped, grabbing blindly for the nearest water jug. He poured it straight into his glass, gulping furiously until the burn dulled.
Anna leaned back, arms crossed, her tone cool. "I told you the food wasn’t for you." She shrugged as if watching him suffer was nothing unusual, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and vengeance.
By the time Anna finished her dinner, Daniel had calmed down, but the burning still lingered, leaving his tongue numb and his pride wounded.
"Ha... I’m so full." Anna rubbed her stomach contentedly, ignoring the storm brewing beside her. When she glanced at Daniel, he looked as though he’d survived a battlefield rather than a meal.
A scoff escaped her. She had heard about his aversion to spice, but to witness it firsthand—oh, it was satisfying.
She set her napkin aside and rose gracefully from the chair. But just as she turned toward the stairs, a firm hand clamped around her wrist.
Anna gasped, spinning to see Daniel towering over her, his eyes burning with something darker than anger.
"I won’t let this slide so easily," he said, his voice low, dangerous. "You need to be punished."
Anna gaped, stunned by his sudden shift. Before her mind could process what he meant, Daniel had already dragged her toward the staircase. The staff barely had time to blink before the couple disappeared upstairs, the echo of a door slamming shut leaving the entire mansion buzzing with whispers.
***
Once inside, Daniel finally let go of Anna’s hand—but letting her leave was never an option.
"D-Daniel... l-let me go," Anna stammered, her back brushing against the wall as he advanced with deliberate steps.
This isn’t even my fault, she thought furiously. He’s the one who assumed I cooked for him. Why is he acting like I’ve committed a crime?
Daniel’s expression was calm, but his eyes burned with simmering fury. His very presence pressed down on her, suffocating, reminding her who held control.
"I’m not done with you, Anna Clafford," he said, his voice low, sharp. "Not until I get my answers."
Anna blinked in confusion, tilting her head. But then realization struck.
"Ah... this is about last night, isn’t it?" she muttered, her bravado faltering. Her throat went dry as flashes of memory returned—her drunken taunts, calling him rude.
She cleared her throat, straightened, and forced herself to meet his gaze.
"Listen, I know not many people dare say it to your face, but it’s true. You are rude. So stop acting childish and just accept it."
Her words wavered, her boldness already cracking as Daniel kept closing the distance. She stumbled backward with every step he took forward.
"Okay, fine!" she blurted, hands raised defensively. "If you’re upset I called you rude, so be it. Because it’s true—and I won’t apologize."
Another step. Another. Until there was no space left between them.
Anna froze, her lips parting in sheer panic as Daniel’s mouth curved into a dangerous smirk.
That look—the devil himself prowling, as if he could devour her whole.
"L-Listen, Daniel, I’m warning you. Step back, or else—"
"Or else what?" he interrupted silkily. "You’ll kick me? Threaten me with divorce, the way you did last night?"
Her breath hitched.
’W-What is he saying? When did I—’ Her thoughts cut short as her eyes widened in shock.
"What... what did I say last night?" she whispered, inching closer as if afraid of the answer.
Daniel chuckled darkly, his gaze flicking to her trembling lips.
"You don’t remember, do you?" he asked.
"I-I do. Just... not all of it," she admitted, looking away, her voice small.
"Did it scare you?" Daniel pressed, leaning in, his words a taunt. "Did you finally change your mind?"
Anna’s lashes fluttered as hope sparked in her chest. "You mean... you?"
"No." His curt reply cut through her like ice.
Her fleeting hope shattered, replaced by a sneer.
"Daniel Clafford, you really have no conscience. Are you saying you won’t divorce me?"
She was exhausted—exhausted of holding on to the faintest hope that he’d ever let her go, exhausted of still feeling that ache in her heart for a man who had only ever hurt her.
How did I ever fall in love with him? The thought clawed at her, but she shoved it down, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
She yanked herself free, spinning to walk away—
But Daniel’s hand shot out, pulling her back. In one swift move, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing her flush against him.
Her breath caught, trapped in the iron cage of his hold, his warmth searing into her skin.
But what truly shocked her were the next words that slipped past his lips.
"How about we make a deal," Daniel murmured, his voice low, deliberate. "I’ll consider the divorce—only if you kiss me every night before you sleep."
Anna’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open. "Huh? W-what do you mean by—"
Her words died on her tongue when Daniel suddenly leaned down, closing the space between them, and captured her lips in a firm, unapologetic kiss.
When he pulled back, his gaze burned into hers.
"I mean this," he said, his smirk devilishly triumphant. And before Anna could even process his words, his lips descended on hers once again—firm, unyielding, as if sealing his claim.