"I want a divorce."
The words struck the air like a thunderclap, vibrating through the silence of the chamber. Anna's heart pounded against her ribs, wild and unrelenting, but her gaze didn't waver from Daniel's face.
For a moment, there was nothing. Then—
Daniel laughed.
Not the kind of laugh that carried warmth, but one that dripped with disdain, sharp and cutting. He shook his head, as though the very idea was absurd.
"You surely need a doctor," he said coolly. "Who in their right mind asks for a divorce on the night of their wedding?"
His mocking eyes burned into her, but Anna refused to flinch.
Daniel's mind flicked back to Mariam's words earlier. She had come to him, wringing her hands nervously, suggesting that the new bride was behaving strangely and that perhaps a physician should be called. Daniel had dismissed her concern then, chalking it up to nerves or yet another ploy from the ever-scheming family he had been forced to deal with.
The Bennetts. Always desperate. Always dramatic.
First, it had been Kathrine's scandalous disappearance—running away and humiliating him in front of society. Then her father, crawling on his knees, begging him not to terminate their business ties, offering Anna as a pitiful replacement. And now this—Anna, standing before him, spouting nonsense about divorce.
His lips curled into a cold smirk. "Drama clearly runs in your family's blood."
But then… his gaze lingered on her face. Pale. Too pale.
A memory flickered—one he hadn't thought of until now.
Anna's low blood sugar. Her fainting spells. Her weakness.
Could this be just another one of those moments? Was she simply delirious?
It was the only reason, the only explanation he allowed himself to entertain. Otherwise, he'd have to believe that this timid, eager-to-please substitute bride actually had the audacity to stand before him and demand freedom.
And Daniel Clafford did not tolerate defiance.
That was why, instead of storming, instead of tearing her words apart, he had come here tonight. To check. To see for himself.
And as his icy gaze raked over her trembling figure in that wedding dress, he convinced himself of one thing—Anna wasn't serious. She couldn't be.
No woman in her position would ever dare to let him go.
Just as he was about to leave, Anna stopped him.
"I know you don't love me, Daniel."
Her voice was steady, but the words sliced through the air. Daniel froze mid-step, his hand lingering near the door before he turned back, his expression unreadable.
Anna walked toward him, each step deliberate despite the tremor in her chest. When she stopped in front of him, she tilted her chin up, refusing to look away from the storm in his blue eyes.
"I know your heart belongs to my sister," she said softly but firmly. "Then why—why force yourself to marry me?"
His jaw tightened, but he said nothing. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.
Anna clenched her hands at her sides and pressed on. "How about we don't drag this any further? End it now, Daniel. There will never be love between us, only a burden neither of us deserves."
For a flicker of a moment, something shifted in his gaze. Her words had landed, piercing through his controlled exterior. But almost instantly, that flicker turned into ice.
Daniel Clafford did not like being cornered.
He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until she felt the heat radiating from his body. Anna stiffened but held her ground, though her breath betrayed her with a quickened rhythm.
"You speak of love as if it matters," Daniel murmured, his voice a low drawl that curled around her like smoke. "This marriage was never about love. It was about responsibility. Appearances. Business."
He leaned down slightly, his face so close that she could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw. His scent—clean, sharp, masculine—brushed over her, and she hated the way her pulse reacted.
"But divorce?" he whispered mockingly, his lips dangerously close to her ear. "You really think you have the power to make that choice?"
Anna's chest tightened. His nearness was suffocating, his dominance pressing against her resolve, but she refused to let him see her falter.
"Maybe I do," she shot back, her voice breathless yet defiant.
His eyes darkened. A dangerous amusement flickered across his face as his hand lifted, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek, his fingers lingering longer than necessary.
"Careful, Anna," he said softly, though the edge in his tone was razor sharp. "You might convince me you're serious. And then what would you do… when I decide not to let you go?"
Her stomach twisted—half in fear, half in anger at the pull he still had over her.
This wasn't a concession. This was Daniel reclaiming control, twisting her demand for freedom into a dangerous game of power.
And Anna realized in that moment—if she wanted to win, she couldn't just persist. She would have to outplay him.
"Then I will file the divorce myself."
The moment the words left her lips, Daniel's expression shifted. In a flash, his hand shot out, seizing her wrist with a grip like iron. Before she could react, he spun her and pinned her against the nearest wall.
Anna's body hit the cold concrete with a thud, the shock knocking the breath from her lungs. But it wasn't the dull ache in her back that made her whimper—it was the heat and weight of his body pressed firmly against hers, caging her in with no escape.
His face lowered, so close their breaths mingled, his eyes blazing with warning.
"Say that again," Daniel hissed, his voice low and dangerous, "and I'll make sure your family is ruined before sunrise."
The threat slithered through her veins like ice. Anna shivered, not from fear alone but from the sharp reminder of reality.
This was why she had married him.
Not because she was desperate. Not because she believed she could win his heart. But because she had wanted to shield her family from this very man's wrath.
Daniel Clafford was not just powerful. He was merciless.
A self-made tycoon, he had clawed his way to the top of the business world, building an empire that bent competitors to their knees. His name alone was enough to inspire both envy and fear. Governments courted him. Corporations scrambled to partner with him.
And her father's company—small compared to his empire—had been one of those desperately clinging to his shadow.
She had stepped into Kathrine's place to save them. To shield her father's failing business from Daniel's fury.
And now, pressed against the wall by the man she once tried so hard to love, Anna felt the suffocating weight of that decision all over again.
His grip on her wrist tightened, his words a knife against her composure.
"Do you really think you can walk away from me, Anna?" Daniel's voice dropped to a whisper, mocking and lethal. "You, or your family?"
Anna's pulse raced, her body caught between fear and defiance. She had sworn not to be weak this time, not to let him shatter her spirit.
But facing Daniel like this—so close, so merciless—she knew one thing for certain:
If she wanted freedom, she would have to be smarter than him.
When Anna didn't answer, Daniel's grip loosened. Slowly, deliberately, he stepped back, his gaze never leaving hers.
"Now that's how you should be," he said coolly. "Silent. Obedient." His lips curved into a faint smirk. "Now stop being a spoil and go to bed… before I change my mind and we proceed with our wedding night."
The words struck her like a slap. For a moment, Anna stood frozen, her pulse hammering in her ears. She had never imagined hearing such a threat from him.
Daniel, meanwhile, wasn't sure why the words had left his mouth. It wasn't as though he wanted her. He didn't like Anna. He had never fooled himself into thinking he had feelings for her.
And yet—
There was something about the way she stood now, flushed with anger, her eyes blazing like fire. Her body, curvier than her sister's, pressed against the wall. The rise and fall of her chest with every defiant breath.
He found his gaze dipping lower before he caught himself.
Damn it, Daniel. Get a grip.
She wasn't supposed to stir anything in him. She wasn't Kathrine. She was merely a placeholder.
He forced himself to look away, to bury the unwelcome pull clawing at him. Whatever this strange attraction was, he would smother it before it derailed his focus.
Without another word, Daniel turned and strode out of the room, his retreating figure swallowed by the heavy door that slammed behind him.
Anna remained pinned to the wall, her body rigid as if still trapped beneath his presence. Slowly, she exhaled, her lips curling into a humorless laugh.
"Change his mind?" she scoffed, shaking her head. A bitter chuckle escaped, only to die into a low, venomous mutter. "Is he out of his mind?"
Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, nails biting into her palms.
She had thought she could reason with him. That a calm negotiation would make Daniel see sense, allow them to part ways without collateral damage. But she was wrong.
She had forgotten the most important truth—her father's company still dangled in the palm of Daniel's hand. One squeeze, one whim, and everything her family had built would be crushed to dust.
"Argh!" Anna grunted, her frustration spilling out as she shoved herself away from the wall. Her chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, fury and despair twisting together like a storm inside her.
Her attempt had failed—miserably.
But as her reflection caught in the mirror across the room, she stilled. The woman staring back wasn't the weak substitute bride who had once cowered under Daniel's shadow.
Her lips slowly curved, though there was no trace of softness in the smile. Only resolve.
"This time," she whispered darkly, her voice steady with conviction, "I'll change my fate. I will divorce Daniel Clafford."
And for the first time since her rebirth, Anna felt a spark of power in her chest—small, fragile, but burning.
This time, she wouldn't beg. She wouldn't break.
She would win.