Chapter 66: Daniel is stalking me now
[Inside her old room]
"Salad? Seriously, Mom?" Anna groaned, eyeing the plate Rosiline placed on the table. "Is this really what you expect me to eat?"
Her disappointment was obvious, but Rosiline remained unfazed. Folding her hands primly, she replied, "It’s healthy. You need it."
Anna rolled her eyes, biting back the sharp retort on her tongue. ’God forbid you ever bring me something I actually like.’
When she still didn’t move to touch the plate, Rosiline exhaled heavily. "Anna, you need to take better care of your health. You must get back into shape if you want to remain fertile."
Anna scoffed, offended. "Mom, it’s been only a few days since I got married, and you’re already plotting to make me pregnant?"
Rosiline’s brows drew together, her tone firm with conviction. "Why not? The sooner you conceive, the stronger Daniel’s favor will be toward you."
Anna stared at her in disbelief, shaking her head. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t expected this. In her past life, too, her mother had pushed her into schemes—always urging her to seduce Daniel, to bind him with a child. Some things never changed.
"Well, that’s not happening anytime soon," Anna said flatly. "And as for Daniel’s favor, he already shows it. I don’t need a child to lure him."
Rosiline’s lips parted in shock, but before she could speak, Anna leaned forward, her tone sharp with sarcasm. "Anyway, you should probably eat this salad yourself. I can see the wrinkles forming on your face, and it looks like you’re the one who needs nourishment more than me."
With that, Anna pushed the plate toward her and stood. Without waiting for her mother’s reaction, she swept out of the room.
Rosiline glared after her, her jaw tightening. "This girl... when will she finally agree with me?" she muttered under her breath.
Yet even as frustration simmered, she wasn’t ready to give up. Not on Anna, and not on the idea of securing Daniel’s affection the way she thought best.
Meanwhile, Anna stepped out of the house in disappointment. She had been so sure sneaking into Hugo’s study would give her some clue about Kathrine’s whereabouts—but she’d been wrong. Not a single useful lead.
Still, one thing had become clear: Hugo was hiding something. Every move, every plan—carefully tucked away in the dark.
But why?
The question gnawed at her as she walked out of the mansion gates, her thoughts circling endlessly. She barely noticed the busy sidewalk until—
Honk!
A sharp horn blared right next to her, making her jump.
"Holy shit!" Anna gasped, clutching her chest. Her glare snapped toward the sleek car that had pulled up beside her.
The door swung open, and out stepped a tall man in a tailored suit—Henry, Daniel’s ever-loyal assistant.
"I apologize for scaring you, Madam," Henry said quickly, bowing his head. "But Boss has instructed me bring you with me."
Anna’s expression hardened the instant she heard those words. "Of course," she muttered bitterly. Her eyes darted past Henry, checking if Daniel was inside the car.
But Henry stepped forward before she could even look. "Boss will meet you directly at the venue," he explained.
Anna exhaled sharply, fixing him with a cold stare. "Tell your boss I’m not going anywhere. If he wants to be somewhere, he can sit there all by himself." She spun on her heel, marching away.
Henry panicked, rushing after her. "Madam, please! Boss won’t like it—and worse, he won’t spare me if you refuse." His voice cracked with genuine desperation, his polite composure slipping.
Anna froze, turning back slowly. Henry wasn’t lying. She could see it in his eyes—the fear of Daniel’s wrath, the same fear she had seen once before when Henry had quietly helped her sneak food into the company for Daniel. He had been nothing but respectful to her then, and yet Daniel had scolded him harshly for "crossing the line."
Watching him almost beg now made her chest tighten. Anna might be stubborn, but she wasn’t cruel. Making Henry suffer for her defiance felt wrong.
"Fine," she muttered, finally relenting.
Henry’s relief was palpable. He rushed ahead, opening the passenger door for her with trembling hands.
Sliding into the seat, Anna folded her arms and glared out the window. The car pulled away, her mind racing once again.
’Where in the world is he taking me this time?’
The thought lingered for only a second before Anna’s eyes narrowed.
"Henry," she asked suddenly, her tone cutting, "how did you know where I was?"
The man in the front seat froze, shrinking awkwardly. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, and Anna didn’t miss the way his shoulders stiffened.
’Don’t tell me... Daniel is stalking me now.’
The realization struck like lightning, leaving her blinking in shock.
***
[Inside a lavish Italian restaurant]
Anna sat across from Daniel, her glare sharp enough to drill holes through his calm exterior. The silence stretched, oppressive, until Daniel finally set down the menu card.
"Are you just going to keep staring at me, Anna?" His voice was smooth, unbothered, as if her fury amused him.
Anna’s lips twitched. She leaned back in her chair, forcing herself to look composed. But her voice cracked with irritation when she asked, "Daniel, have you seriously become my stalker? How else did Henry find me so easily?"
Her tone carried more than anger—it carried suspicion. A fear that maybe he knew far more than he should.
Daniel didn’t flinch. Instead, he rested his hands on the armrests, fingers laced together, and met her gaze head-on. "Is it wrong to keep an eye on my wife," he said smoothly, "when she’s in the habit of running away whenever she pleases?"
His calmness only fanned the fire in her chest. Anna slammed her palms on the table, her facade cracking. "Daniel, how dare you admit it so shamelessly! Who gave you the right to stalk me?"
Daniel’s expression barely shifted, though the playful glint in his eyes deepened. "I have every right, Anna. Don’t forget—we’re married. On paper, in front of your parents, before the world. So tell me, is it wrong for a husband to know where his wife is?"
The words struck her like a slap, his constant reminder of their legal bond twisting like a knife. If she could, she’d go back in time and rip up those marriage papers herself.
Then, Daniel smirked, leaning back. "Don’t worry. I only checked on you this one time." He lied easily, knowing full well the truth would only earn him a face full of soup. Anna was unpredictable—sometimes reckless—and for once, he’d rather not provoke her more than necessary.
But Anna wasn’t buying it. Her heart thudded painfully as another possibility flashed in her mind. Don’t tell me... he’s in touch with Mom.
Considering Rosaline’s constant nagging about pregnancy, it wasn’t far-fetched. Her mother would happily keep Daniel updated if it meant seeing her daughter tied tighter to him.
Anna’s expression darkened as she met Daniel’s gaze again. "How can I trust you," she shot back bitterly, "when you don’t even trust me?"
The words hung between them, sharp and raw.
Daniel’s smirk faltered, the playful gleam in his eyes fading. He leaned back in his chair, silent, but Anna saw it—the guilt flickering through his usually unreadable face.
The truth was, he hadn’t forgotten her expression that morning. The way she’d looked at him—like she was betrayed. Like he had failed her.
And though he had brushed it aside then, Daniel knew he couldn’t ignore it forever.
He would have to find a way to make it up to her.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked with a voice full of genuineness that caught Anna completely off guard.