Anna was still reeling from what had just happened, her mind lagging behind her body, when realization struck.
With a frantic jerk, she scrambled to get up.
"Ouch!" she yelped when her hand slipped, her head colliding against Daniel's forehead with a sharp knock.
"What the hell are you doing?" Daniel hissed, wincing at the pain. Watching her clumsy fumbling only grated on his nerves further. With a growl, he seized control, flipping them over in one swift motion.
Anna gasped as her back hit the floor, and suddenly Daniel was above her, his body pressed firmly against hers, caging her in.
"Will you stop struggling?" he warned, voice low, taut with restraint. "You're making this harder than it already is."
But Anna fought anyway, wriggling beneath him, refusing to yield.
Then—she froze.
Her entire body went rigid, her breath caught in her throat as something pressed insistently against her hip. Her wide eyes blinked once, twice, as realization crashed into her.
No… it can't be—
Daniel stiffened too, his own composure fracturing when heat stirred low in his body. His arousal throbbed against her, unbidden and unwelcome, a reaction he hadn't expected—not this easily, not with her.
For one suspended second, both of them lay there, wide-eyed and struck dumb as if lightning had jolted through them.
Then—
"Ah!"
They tore apart at the same time, Daniel springing to his feet while Anna scrambled up, clutching at her chest as though it would shield her.
"H-How dare you kiss me!" Anna accused, cheeks flaming as she pointed at him with trembling indignation.
Daniel's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Me? You kissed me! It was you who tried to take off my towel!"
Anna blinked at him, scandalized. When did I ever try to take off his towel?!
Her shock quickly turned to fury. "Hah! So this is how you twist things? Accusing me of something when you're the one who snuck into my room without permission?" Her voice rose, sharp and furious.
It wasn't her first kiss—not technically. In her past life, Daniel had kissed her the night they consummated their marriage. She had spent months afterward treasuring that fleeting memory, convincing herself it had meant something.
But that had been foolish.
This was no dream. This was messy, humiliating reality.
And he tasted the same—divine even with the faint trace of alcohol—yet that wasn't the point.
Daniel's brow furrowed, not at her accusations but at the way she seemed to drift away mid-confrontation, as if she were silently damning him in her head again.
"You—" he snapped, ready to unleash his temper, but Anna cut across him, her glare burning.
"Wait. Before you repeat your nonsense about this being our room, let me make one thing very clear." Her voice was sharp, unyielding. "I will not allow you to come here whenever you please. So pack your things and move to another room."
Daniel: "…"
Daniel's jaw clenched, words caught in his throat as he stared at her, utterly unprepared for her audacity.
He wanted to lash out, to put her in her place—but those unwavering eyes stopped him cold.
This wasn't the timid, obedient Anna Hugo had promised him. This was a wildcat, claws bared, daring him to cross her line.
For a long moment, silence pressed between them. In the end, instead of arguing, he turned on his heel. But not before dressing himself with sharp, calculated movements.
The second he stepped into another room, the door slammed shut behind him with a resounding thud.
Anger. Humiliation. Accusation.
What wasn't he feeling right now?
Daniel Clafford had never been humiliated like this before. No one dared to talk back to him. Yet Anna—his wife—had the audacity to accuse him of sneaking into his own room… and kissing her.
His thoughts stilled abruptly. Almost unwillingly, his hand drifted to his lips.
The kiss.
It had been brief. Accidental. But the softness of her mouth, the unexpected warmth—too real, too disarming.
"Daniel, where the hell are your thoughts heading?" he growled under his breath, shaking his head as if to rid himself of it.
Anna wasn't just any woman. She was Kathrine's sister—the girl who had ruined his plans, tarnished his reputation, forced him into a marriage he had never wanted. He could not, would not, allow himself to be distracted by her.
With his intention hardening, Daniel's expression darkened.
"You think I kissed you?" he muttered, a sharp laugh escaping him. The sound was humorless, bitter. Yet even as he scoffed, his eyes flicked downward—and narrowed at the evidence pressing insistently against his towel.
"Argh!" He cursed under his breath, storming into the bathroom and slamming the door shut with enough force to rattle the walls.
***
Meanwhile, in the other room, Anna was still reeling—horrified at what had just happened.
The kiss had been fleeting, nothing more than an accident. And yet, it had made her chest flutter, her mind scatter.
Now buried under the duvet, she squeezed her eyes shut, muttering prayers like a child warding off nightmares.
"It's just a kiss. Nothing more. Think of it as a horror dream, Anna. Something to forget. Something you want to erase."
She repeated it again and again, but her body betrayed her. Her cheeks warmed, her lips tingled, and then—another thought struck her like lightning.
Her eyes flew open, cheeks blooming pink as she whispered, almost in disbelief, "Was he… aroused?"
The very idea sent her spiraling—until her subconscious cut in sharply, shattering the fragile illusion.
'In your dreams, Anna. Did you forget? Daniel was never interested in you. It was you who yearned for his love.'
Her shoulders slumped, lips pouting in defeat.
"You're right," she whispered to herself. "He was never mine."
The words left her hollow. They reminded her of all the years she had longed for him in her past life—only to be left with nothing but heartbreak.
While Anna was drowning in those thoughts, a voice broke through her daze.
"Madam, are you not feeling well? Why are you wrapped up in the duvet?" Mariam asked gently as she entered, a tray of food balanced in her hands.
Anna blinked, startled, before quickly sitting up. She had told Mariam earlier that she preferred meals in her room instead of joining Daniel. So the sight of the old woman wasn't surprising.
What was surprising was how quickly her mouth began to water the moment her eyes landed on the tray.
Her stomach growled in betrayal.
Anna gulped. Suddenly, she didn't care about pride, Daniel, or even the humiliation of earlier. Right now… she just wanted that food.
Mariam stood frozen, her mouth parting slightly as Anna all but yanked the duvet away and snatched the tray straight out of her hands.
"I'm absolutely fine, Mariam. Thank you for the food, by the way," Anna said in a rush, not even sparing a glance at the woman's stunned expression before digging in.
It wasn't graceful, it wasn't polite, but Anna didn't care. Right now, manners could go to hell. The savory aroma teased her senses, and the first bite nearly had her humming with relief.
If Mariam wanted to call her crazy for acting like a starving wolf, Anna would happily accept the title.
Within ten minutes, the dishes were spotless—scraped clean as though a feast had never been there at all.
Anna wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then lifted the glass of water and drained it in one go.
"Burp~"
The sound rumbled out of her chest as she leaned back with a satisfied sigh, legs swinging lazily off the edge of the bed.
Mariam, still stuck in stunned silence, blinked herself back into composure. "Should I bring you more, Madame?" she asked cautiously, noting how much Anna had clearly enjoyed the meal.
Anna shook her head quickly, a sheepish smile tugging at her lips. "Oh, no. I ate more than enough. Thank you—it was delicious."
Mariam's shoulders softened. She had only known Anna a short while, but she could already tell this Madame wore her heart on her sleeve. Every thought spilled straight from her lips, unfiltered and earnest.
Satisfied, the older woman began gathering the empty dishes back onto the tray.
But just as she turned to leave, Anna's voice stopped her.
"Oh, Mariam—one more thing."
Mariam glanced back, curious.
"I want you to move Daniel's things to another room."
The tray wobbled in her hands as Mariam blinked, her brows knitting together in confusion. "Why, Madame?"
Anna crossed her arms, her face set with stubborn resolve.
"Because from today onward, he's moving out of this room."
"…"
Mariam's lips parted, but no words came. The silence was heavy, laced with disbelief—and perhaps a flicker of dread.
Because in this house, no one had ever dared to issue such an order against Daniel Clafford.
No one… until now.