Chapter 102: The devil’s in love
After seeking Henry’s advice earlier, he had convinced himself that life was finally starting to make sense again. His boss seemed more... human lately showing concern for his wife, adjusting his schedule (occasionally), and not snapping at every minor inconvenience.
But the moment he saw Daniel’s conflicted expression, Henry’s brief peace shattered like glass.
The silence stretched unbearably long as Daniel stared off into space, clearly lost in thought. Henry’s stomach sank. He’d seen that look before. It meant disaster for him, and possibly his marriage.
’Please, boss, not again,’ he prayed silently, clutching his tablet like a holy relic. ’I just promised my wife I’d be home for dinner. Don’t make me break it for another all-nighter... please, have mercy.’
When Daniel finally spoke, his tone was calm—too calm. "No. The meeting’s more important."
Henry’s heart sank.
’Why does this man hate happiness?’
"Okay, boss," Henry croaked out weakly, forcing a smile that was more painful than sincere. Then, as soon as he was dismissed, he bolted for the door, muttering under his breath like a man headed to his own funeral.
Once outside, he dramatically wiped at his eyes. "Why did I ever choose this job? Oh right—because rent exists."
Inside the office, Daniel sat unmoving for a long moment after Henry’s exit. The quiet hum of the city filtered faintly through the tinted windows, blending with the sound of his slow, deliberate breathing.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go home. In fact, every fiber of him wanted to see her.
Anna.
He could still remember the way she’d looked at him that day the mix of stubborn defiance and something softer that he couldn’t quite name. It disarmed him every time. She always had that effect. Somehow, she made him lose control in ways no one else ever could.
And that was the problem.
She was unpredictable. She pulled his composure apart piece by piece until the ruthless businessman vanished, and all that remained was a man who wanted her too much.
He exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. But then his gaze flickered toward the corner of his desk where a single document lay forgotten beneath a pile of contracts. It wasn’t a file from work. It was the dream. That dream.
The one that had left his chest aching and his face wet with tears. The memory of Anna’s loss had felt so real that he could still feel the echo of it whenever he blinked.
For a man who didn’t believe in fate, Daniel had never been so unsettled in his life.
"Maybe..." he murmured under his breath, his fingers tightening around his pen, "I should keep my distance from her."
’It was safer that way for both of them.’ At least, that’s what he tried to tell himself as he buried his attention back into work. But no amount of contracts or meetings could quiet the gnawing truth in his chest.
***
Later that evening, the Bennett mansion echoed with the quiet sound of heels clicking against marble.
Rosiline entered, her diamond necklace catching the dim light as she brushed past the servants and set her designer handbag on the glass table. The faint scent of expensive perfume still lingered on her silk shawl—remnants of yet another lavish charity gala.
She exhaled, sinking gracefully into the couch. "That was exhausting," she murmured, leaning her head back. But then, as her painted lips curved into a smug smile, she added softly, "Though I must admit... I do enjoy it."
The praise. The admiration. The way people looked at her as if she were the epitome of grace and generosity.
Rosiline Bennett—the beloved philanthropist, the woman who gave back to society.
They never saw the calculation behind her smiles, the fear behind her poise, or the self-serving truth behind her "good deeds."
She hadn’t been born into luxury. No—she had clawed her way into it. Marriage to Hugo had been her ticket to power, and since then, she’d mastered the art of maintaining appearances.
The charities she ran weren’t just for goodwill—they were insurance. Reputation, influence, protection. Especially now that Hugo’s company was wobbling under pressure, every public smile she gave mattered.
And soon, when Daniel sealed another deal with Hugo, things would stabilize. They had to.
Her mind was still weaving comforting fantasies when her phone chimed.
She frowned, reaching for it lazily. "Who’s messaging at this hour..." she muttered, unlocking it with a sigh only to froze only a seconds later.
The faint glow of the screen illuminated her face as her pupils shrank. It was a message from the bank.
A transaction alert.
A withdrawal.
Her hand began to tremble. Slowly, she clicked the notification open, her manicured nails tapping against the glass screen. The date flashed in bold letters.
Her throat went dry. "No..." she whispered.
With shaky fingers, she opened her calendar. The confirmation appeared like a curse. Today’s date staring back at her, mocking her.
The air around her seemed to thicken. Her chest constricted, and she nearly dropped the phone from her trembling hands.
"No. It can’t be..."
Her lips quivered as the color drained from her face. She tried to steady her breath, but her pulse thudded violently in her ears.
The timing. The amount. The source.
It all matched him and her worst fear clawed its way up from the pit of her stomach, cold and merciless.
"Don’t tell me..." she whispered, her voice breaking into a shaky exhale. Her wide eyes darted toward the window as if expecting to see a shadow waiting outside.
"...he’s back."
The words fell from her mouth like a curse.
And for the first time in years, the poised, elegant Rosiline Bennett, society’s angel felt a familiar, creeping terror she thought she’d buried forever.
***
Meanwhile, in the backseat of the car, the glow of Daniel’s phone screen illuminated his face exposing a faint smile tugging at his lips as he scrolled, completely oblivious to the pair of eyes stabbing daggers at him through the rearview mirror.
Up front, Henry was sulking so hard he looked like a man mourning his own life choices. His fingers drummed against his lap as he sneaked another look at his boss’s calm, composed, smiling face while he himself sat there, facing the death sentence of a ruined marriage dinner.
’Because of him, I’m homeless for the night,’ Henry fumed silently.
He hadn’t even gotten to touch his wife’s cooking before he had to call her and inform. ’Meeting. Urgent’
Now, after an entire evening of watching Daniel scroll through Anna’s social media with a grin that could melt steel, Henry’s soul was on the brink of spontaneous combustion.
He clenched his jaw. "A month," his wife had said. "You’re not sleeping in our room for a month!"
Henry’s eyes burned holes into the rearview mirror. ’I swear, Boss, I hope your wife gives you blue balls so bad you forget how to smile like that.’
He huffed and turned to the window, trying to ignore the fact that his boss, the famously stoic, terrifying, emotionally frozen Daniel Clafford was now chuckling softly at his phone like some lovestruck teenager.
Tap. Scroll. Smile.
Henry’s lips twitched. "Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath.
If anyone had told him a month ago that the Devil of Glorious International would one day be smiling at a phone screen because of his wife’s social media post, he would’ve laughed them out of the room.
But now, here he was Daniel Clafford, CEO, heartless negotiator, and the newly self-appointed DarkKnight_07 scrolling through Anna’s profile like his life depended on it.
Henry wanted to bang his head against the window or cry out loud, but he couldn’t.
’I should’ve never created that account for him,’ he thought miserably. ’This man isn’t protecting his wife’s image by stalking her like a jealous ex with money and Wi-Fi.’
He sneaked one last look at Daniel through the mirror. The man’s faint smirk deepened as he read another comment probably one of the fans fawning over Anna’s post.
Henry groaned internally.
’God help us all,’ he thought. ’The devil’s in love.’ Obvious of the man who was now enjoying the attention he was getting as his wife’s lover.
Soon, they reached the venue — an upscale, private restaurant Daniel often used for business meetings that required both civility and subtle intimidation.
As the driver parked the car, Daniel stepped out with his usual unhurried grace, the night air crisp against his tailored suit. Henry closely followed.
Inside, Hugo was already waiting, a glass of wine untouched before him. The tension in his posture was well-hidden behind a practiced smile, but Daniel caught it immediately.
"You seem quite the desperate man, Father-in-law," Daniel drawled, his tone polite, his smile razor-sharp. "You came before time."
The words were smooth, almost pleasant but their edge cut clean.
Hugo’s own smile wavered for a brief second before he composed himself. "I just happened to wrap my work earlier," he said lightly, trying to keep his tone casual.
Daniel’s lips twitched. "Of course."
As the waiter left them alone, Daniel leaned back in his chair, every movement radiating composed dominance. "So, tell me what made you call this urgent meeting?"
Hugo hesitated only for a breath before he began, carefully measuring every word. "It’s regarding the Anderson Project. We’ve been handling the marketing and product development, but the client has increased their requirements, which... has, in turn, raised the funding costs."
Daniel nodded slightly, giving nothing away. "Then why ask me, Father-in-law?" he asked with deliberate calm. "Surely, you could’ve handled it without me. You don’t need my permission for everything."
The words were spoken gently, but they landed like bullets.