After being thrown out of his own room, Daniel spent the night in the one beside Anna's.
He had assumed that by morning his stubborn wife would have calmed her mind, but instead another shock awaited him.
"Master, should I move your belongings to this room or the one closer to the study?" Mariam stood before him with a polite curtsy, her tone neutral.
From the look in her eyes, Daniel knew immediately—Anna had already given her orders.
But what unsettled him was Mariam herself. For someone who had known him for years, her composure was sharper than ever. No hesitation, no fear. As though even she had grown immune to his temper.
Daniel cleared his throat. "Ahem. No need for that. I'll let you know when it's necessary." His dismissal came stiff, awkward.
Mariam inclined her head without question.
"I won't be having breakfast," he added curtly, rising from the bed and brushing past her toward the hall.
Skipping meals was nothing new to him. Work had always filled the space food was meant to take. Only during client dinners or company meetings did he bother sitting down to eat.
And today was no different.
By the time the clock struck eight, he was showered, dressed, and ready to leave. But on his way out, he found himself stepping into her room almost unconsciously.
The moment he entered, the dimness stopped him.
Curtains drawn, air heavy, and there—on the wide bed—lay Anna, cocooned like a child hiding from the morning light.
Daniel let out a sharp breath, equal parts irritation and disbelief. How could someone sleep so carelessly?
He turned to leave—
Until her voice drifted out.
"Daniel Clafford… why don't you just give me the divorce?"
His steps halted.
Brows lifting, he turned his head slowly toward the bed.
Anna lay sprawled shamelessly across the mattress, one leg dangling off the edge, the other stretched out wide. Her duvet had half-slid onto the floor, tangled around her in a mess of fabric.
She looked less like a lady of the Clafford mansion and more like a beggar who had stumbled onto a too-soft bed.
And yet, in her sleep, she had muttered his name. His name.
Daniel's lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze sharpening as something unreadable flickered in his eyes.
Divorce. Always divorce.
Even in her dreams, she was trying to run away from him.
As Daniel lingered by the bed, listening, Anna suddenly let out a soft moan.
"Mmm… so delicious," she murmured, lips parting as her tongue flicked out to lick them, as though savoring something on her palate.
Daniel's brows shot up. He leaned in slightly, straining to hear. Is she… hungry even in her dreams?
His jaw tightened. Something about this felt wrong. Off.
Then she sighed again, smiling in her sleep. "Hmm… I want to taste it again…"
Daniel froze.
For one dangerous second, he couldn't tell if what he was hearing was hunger—or something else entirely.
Her lips puckered, soft and pouty, and Daniel's throat went dry. He quickly shoved the thought away. No. Impossible.
Of course, she was dreaming of food. Anna Bennett, the woman who once skipped meals to please others, was now moaning about taste in her sleep. That had to be it.
Or so he told himself.
Just as he decided he'd heard enough, a hand shot up out of nowhere and looped around his neck.
"What the—"
In the next instant, Daniel was yanked down onto the mattress, Anna's arms locking tight around him like a trap.
His eyes widened as her lips brushed against his ear. Then, with a mischievous giggle, she whispered, low and husky, "I'm going to eat you raw…"
Before he could react, sharp teeth nipped at his earlobe.
"Argh!" Daniel's composure shattered, his shout ringing through the room as he jolted against her grip.
"Daniel Clafford, your lips are so juicy… I want to bite them."
"..."
The words struck him like lightning, freezing him in place.
All at once, his assumption shattered. She wasn't dreaming about food. She wasn't muttering about pastries or chocolates.
She was dreaming about him.
Last night, when their accidental kiss had left him unsettled, he'd dismissed it as a fluke of proximity, a slip of lust. And yet, he had ended up standing under an icy shower for half an hour until his body finally obeyed.
But now—hearing her soft voice in sleep, confessing such things—Daniel's composure wavered.
His breath caught. His head turned almost involuntarily, and when his gaze landed on her, something tightened in his chest.
Anna lay curled against him, her features softened by slumber. She looked… innocent. Too innocent. Her cheeks puffed slightly in her sleep, tinged a gentle pink, her lashes fanning delicately against her skin.
Adorable.
And those lips…
His throat worked as he swallowed hard. Plump, parted slightly, they seemed to beckon him.
Daniel, what the hell is wrong with you?
He clenched his fists, fighting against the treacherous thoughts clawing at him. Yet the more he looked at her, the harder it became to deny it.
She was dreaming of him. Of their kiss.
And he… was tempted.
Heat stirred low in his stomach, a dangerous pull he refused to acknowledge. A bead of sweat slid down the side of his temple.
Finally, with a sharp inhale, he forced himself to act. Gently, carefully, he pried himself from her hold, sliding out of her arms until he was free.
Standing at the edge of the bed, Daniel exhaled a shaky sigh of relief. His gaze lingered on her one last time, his jaw tightening as he turned and strode out of the room before his self-control faltered completely.
Anna, blissfully unaware of his turmoil, slept on for another half hour until her alarm blared at her bedside.
Her eyes flew open, and she flailed for the clock with a groggy hand, shutting it off with a groan.
She sat up slowly, stretching her arms high above her head until her back gave a little satisfying crack.
"Ugh… morning already?" she muttered through a yawn, rubbing her eyes before kicking off the tangled duvet.
But then it hit her.
The audition.
Anna shot up from the bed with a jolt. Late? Oh no, not on the very first day!
Without wasting a second, she darted into the bathroom. A quick shower later, she tugged on a simple pair of jeans and a top—nothing glamorous, just enough to blend in.
One thing she was genuinely grateful for was how private her life had always been. Hardly anyone knew her. Her marriage to Daniel had been deliberately kept out of the public eye—thanks to Hugo, who was obsessed with appearances.
He had never wanted Anna in the spotlight. That role had always belonged to Kathrine, the capable, dazzling heir who thrived under the attention.
Anna didn't mind. She had always preferred being invisible. But now… that invisibility was an opportunity. A chance to step out without anyone linking her to Daniel Clafford.
Snatching her cellphone from the nightstand, she tiptoed toward the door like a thief sneaking out.
Only to nearly jump out of her skin when she opened it.
"Oh my god, Mariam—you scared me!" Anna gasped, clutching her chest as she found the nanny standing right outside.
Mariam's eyes swept over her outfit, a curious frown tugging at her lips. It wasn't that the clothes looked bad—they just didn't seem like something a Clafford bride would wear. And yet, the excitement in Anna's face told her everything.
"Madam, are you going somewhere?" Mariam asked gently.
Anna froze mid-step, her mind spinning. Daniel must have gone to work by now, but her. Should she tell her? What if Mariam ran straight to Daniel?
Narrowing her eyes, she tested, "What if I say yes? Will you tell your Master?"
Mariam blinked at her, taken aback. Then a soft smile touched her lips. In the short time she had known Anna, she had already grown fond of her. Anna's honesty, her quick emotions—it was refreshing.
Even if her Master was slow to show his feelings, Mariam couldn't help but think these two were perfect for each other. She rooted for them, even if they didn't realize it yet.
"No, Madam," she said warmly. "I won't tell him."
Anna's face lit up like the morning sun. "Perfect! Then yes—I am going out. But don't worry, I'll be back soon."
Her tone was reassuring, remembering how her absence yesterday had left Mariam worried.
It struck Anna then—how different she had become. The old Anna was cautious, timid, always mindful of everyone else's expectations. But this Anna—the one reborn—was bold. Reckless. Impulsive.
And she liked it.
"And your breakfast?" Mariam asked, her brow creasing. She had been waiting to let Anna taste the meal she'd prepared especially for her.
Anna waved a hand, already hurrying down the corridor. "I'll eat when I return!"
Her voice echoed as she disappeared from sight, leaving Mariam standing there with the tray in her hands and a conflicted smile on her lips.