Chapter 74: Daniel is it true
"If that’s what you believe, then so be it," Anna’s voice cut through the thick silence.
Every head turned as she stepped forward, her expression calm but her words striking like a whip.
"I’ll quit."
Gasps rippled through the team. Even Jane and Mary faltered, blinking in surprise.
"But there is no way," Anna continued firmly, her gaze sweeping the room, "that I will allow you to humiliate Mr. Wilsmith. Because he is not the man you’re trying to paint him to be."
Fiona stiffened, her painted smile flickering. What is she doing?
Her eyes darted sharply to Anna, studying her every move. And then, slowly, the realization struck—Anna wasn’t stepping down. She was setting a trap.
Turning to Wilsmith, Anna bowed her head slightly, her voice softer now but deliberate. "Mr. Wilsmith, you’ve been nothing but kind to give me this chance. But if that kindness brings you accusations and shame, then perhaps it would be better for you to reconsider someone else for the role."
A beat of silence.
Ethan surged forward, his hand shooting out to grip hers. "Anna, stop. What are you saying?" His voice was low, taut with urgency. "You’re not leaving."
Anna’s lashes fluttered, but she kept her composure.
Meanwhile, Fiona’s lips curled at the edges. Jane and Mary exchanged sly smiles, relief sparking in their eyes. In their minds, victory was theirs. The troublesome newcomer was about to be ousted.
Until—
"That’s never going to happen."
Wilsmith’s voice cracked like thunder, shattering their smug illusions in an instant.
The director’s eyes hardened as he leveled his glare on the girls. "I do not doubt my choice. Not now. Not ever. Anna was chosen because she earned it. And I will not entertain baseless accusations any longer."
The girls froze, their confidence draining.
"And as for favoritism—" Wilsmith’s words rang sharp, his voice echoing in the courtyard, "Miss Anna was not late to the audition. She still had ten minutes to spare, which made her eligible. You twisted the truth to serve your jealousy."
Jane and Mary’s faces went pale, panic flickering between them. Yes, they had known that Anna wasn’t technically late. But they’d seized on the rumor, hoping to discredit her. Now their scheme was crumbling.
Their eyes darted to Fiona, silently begging for help, but even she stood frozen, her lips tightening at the unexpected turn.
"Security!" Wilsmith barked. "Call the police. These girls trespassed, harassed one of our artists, and disrupted the studio’s peace. Let them explain themselves behind bars."
The announcement hit like a bombshell. Shock rippled through the staff, whispers buzzing.
But none were more horrified than Jane and Mary.
"H-How can you do this to us?!" Jane shrieked, her voice shaking. "We didn’t mean any harm!"
"We only wanted a chance!" Mary cried, struggling as the guards seized them by the arms.
"You should have thought of that before you attacked someone in my premise," Wilsmith said icily, his glare cutting them down. "This isn’t your playground. Actions have consequences."
"Please, forgive us! We’re sorry!" the girls wailed in unison, tears streaking down their faces as the guards dragged them away.
But Wilsmith didn’t flinch. His expression remained iron-hard.
Then—
"Mr. Wilsmith, wait," Fiona suddenly stepped in, her voice smooth, honey dripping from her tone. "Perhaps the punishment is too harsh. Look—they’re apologizing already. Do we really need to involve the police?"
Her plea hung in the air, carefully painted as compassion, though her eyes gleamed with calculation.
Anna’s lips twisted into a cold sneer. She could see right through Fiona’s mask. ’Of course she’d try to shield them. They’re her pawns.’
Ethan, too, wasn’t fooled. His eyes cut toward Fiona, glinting like steel—hard, cold, and untrusting every time she opened her mouth.
Jane and Mary latched onto Fiona’s words, desperation spilling from them. "Yes! Mr. Wilsmith, Miss Fiona is right! Please, forgive us! We’re sorry—we didn’t mean to hurt your sentiments or Miss Anna!"
But the damage was already done. What was meant to be Anna’s humiliation had turned into their own downfall.
"If that’s what you want," Ethan’s voice cut in, calm but edged with steel, "then it’s not just Director Wilsmith who deserves an apology. You owe one to Anna as well."
His eyes burned with an intensity that silenced the courtyard. Gone was the warm, approachable star the fans adored. Standing before them was a man whose very gaze could crush egos.
Jane and Mary froze, their bravado crumbling. They had once idolized Ethan—his kindness, his gentleness—but what they saw now terrified them. This wasn’t the man they admired on screen. This man looked dangerous.
"Y-Yes," Jane stammered, her knees wobbling. "We will. But please... please don’t hand us over to the cops."
Mary nodded frantically, her face pale. "We’ll do anything—just, please, forgive us!"
From the side, Fiona’s nails dug into her palm. Rage coiled in her chest. Cowards. They had been paid to stand their ground, to push Anna into a corner. And yet, at the first flash of Ethan’s anger, they folded like cheap paper.
Wilsmith’s gaze sharpened, his lips curling into something close to disgust. "Yes," he said, voice ringing across the courtyard. "After everything you’ve done, it’s not me who should decide your fate. It should be Anna."
All eyes turned to her.
Jane and Mary stumbled forward, tripping over their words in desperation. "Miss Anna, please—please forgive us!" Jane cried, bowing so low her hair brushed the ground.
"It won’t happen again," Mary added quickly, tears streaking down her face. "We were wrong to hurt you... wrong to accuse you. We’re sorry. Please, just give us one chance."
Anna stood still, her posture calm though her heart raced. She watched the two girls grovel, their masks stripped away, and for a moment silence stretched heavy between them.
Everyone waited—for her verdict.
The girls nearly dropped to their knees, their sobs echoing around as they begged for mercy.
Anna let them sweat for a moment longer, her gaze unwavering, before finally speaking.
"Fine. I forgive you."
The words landed like a shockwave. Jane and Mary gawked at her, stunned.
Fiona’s lips twitched. Of course. ’What else could this meek little Anna do? Punishment? As if she had it in her.’
But then Anna’s voice sharpened, slicing through the air.
"But next time—make sure you double check your facts before accusing someone."
Her eyes gleamed with such cold clarity that both girls froze. It was as if Anna had told them outright that she knew everything—their scheme, their lies—and yet chose to forgive them anyway.
It was mercy, yes. But mercy laced with power.
Jane and Mary’s faces went pale. They stumbled to their feet, bowing frantically. "T-thank you... thank you so much!" And then they bolted, running as if chased by their own shame.
Ethan finally exhaled, the tension leaving his shoulders. He turned to Anna, his voice firm but gentle. "You should change," he said, eyeing the stains of eggshells and tomato splattered across her clothes. His gaze lingered a moment too long, silently checking her for bruises.
Anna only nodded, brushing off the mess with quiet dignity.
Meanwhile, not far away, Daniel gripped the steering wheel inside his car so tightly his knuckles whitened. His jaw was set, his eyes locked on the sight of Ethan and Anna standing together.
He had seen everything—the humiliation, the attack, and the man who stepped in for her instead of him.
And it burned.
’Why does it always have to be him?’ Daniel seethed, fury storming in his chest.
Before he could stew further, the phone in his pocket buzzed insistently. He ignored it once. Twice. But when it refused to stop, he yanked it out and answered with a snap.
"Hello—"
But the voice on the other end made his entire body stiffen.
"Daniel. Is it true?" The tone was sharp, cutting, laced with an authority he knew too well. "Did you really marry Anna Bennett?"
His lashes fluttered, his lips parting in disbelief. For a rare second, the unshakable Daniel Clafford was caught off guard.
’Aunt Norma.’
The name alone sent a chill slicing down his spine.