"Boss… are you sure you want to do this?" Henry asked carefully, his tone laced with hesitation. He wasn't sure if Daniel really meant to sign his wife for a role.
Daniel's eyes darkened, his stare slicing across the room like a blade. "Are you doubting my intentions, Henry?"
Henry nearly choked on air. The weight of that gaze alone was enough to cut him in half. He shook his head violently. "N-No. Not even in my dreams."
"Good," Daniel muttered, leaning back with cold composure. "But make sure she doesn't find out."
Those words snapped Henry's head up. Curiosity flared in his eyes.
He still couldn't piece it together. First, they'd discovered Anna auditioning for a role—a strange move, considering her husband was one of the wealthiest men in the city. And now, instead of forbidding her, Daniel was deliberately giving her more roles… secretly, without revealing his identity.
Few in the industry knew that Daniel Clafford quietly sponsored multiple production houses. But seeing him use that influence for his wife? That was a first.
Henry wanted to ask more but kept his mouth shut as Daniel picked up the file and signed it with swift, precise strokes.
"I don't know what my wife is up to," Daniel said lowly, more to himself than Henry, "but if becoming an actress is her dream, then I'll make sure she has every opportunity to chase it."
The signed file slid across the desk. Henry caught it, his grip tightening as he whispered, "But Boss… one day she'll learn the truth."
Daniel's eyes flickered with something unreadable, a glint both dangerous and resolute. "Not until I want her to know, Henry."
Anna was hiding something. He could feel it. She was using the secrecy of their marriage to carve her own path, building a name for herself away from the shadow of the Bennett family and the Clafford name.
But why?
Was it really just a dream? Or was there another motive buried beneath her stubborn defiance?
Daniel's jaw clenched as he leaned back in his chair, the question gnawing at him.
***
[Later that evening]
"I think this is the best position," Anna muttered, lying stiffly on the bed with her arms stretched flat at her sides, as though she were posing for her own funeral portrait.
"Okay, Madam… click."
From the foot of the bed, Mariam obediently lifted the phone and snapped a few photos.
"Show me."
Anna sat up quickly, snatching the phone from her hand. She scrolled through the pictures, lips quirking with satisfaction.
"Yes. This one's perfect. I'll sleep exactly like this tonight," she declared with a smile of conviction.
Mariam tilted her head, confused. "Madam… are you planning to frame these photos and hang them on the wall?"
Anna blinked at her, then suddenly patted the mattress beside her. "Come here, Mariam."
The older woman hesitated but finally perched beside her mistress.
"You know," Anna said lightly, twirling the phone in her fingers, "I'd love to frame these and hang them in your master's room. That way, when I die someday, these pictures will haunt him every night."
Mariam's mouth fell open. "Madam!" she gasped. "Please don't say such things. You're going to live a long, healthy life."
Anna's smile tightened, though her eyes turned faintly distant. She had already died once.
"Yes, of course," she murmured, masking the weight in her chest with sarcasm. "But tell me honestly—wouldn't it be fun to scare your master a little? That deadpan face of his deserves to be haunted."
A soft chuckle slipped past her lips, but it was hollow—her sneer aimed more at fate than at Daniel.
Mariam continued to stare at her, shaken, before finally asking quietly, "Madam… may I ask you something?"
"Hm?" Anna hummed distractedly.
"Why do you hate Master so much? Is it because of… the way you got married? Or… something else?"
The question made Anna freeze.
It was easy for people to assume. Easy to look at her and Daniel and think she was bitter simply because of the circumstances.
But once upon a time… she hadn't been like this. She hadn't been stubborn or cold. She had been hopeful. Foolishly hopeful.
Her hands clenched in her lap.
"I don't hate him, Mariam," she said at last, her voice steady but laced with something heavier.
The older woman blinked, surprised.
Anna's gaze lowered, a faint smile curving her lips though it didn't reach her eyes. From the very beginning, she knew Daniel wasn't hers to begin with. He was supposed to marry Kathrine and she was just… a replacement.
Their marriage was doomed before it even started. And still—she tried. Like a fool, she kept trying giving everything she had… knowing very well he would never give anything back.
Her throat tightened as memories flickered—cold dinners, empty promises, nights spent waiting alone.
And in the end it destroyed her.
Silence fell. Even Mairam noticed the pain behind the smile.
Anna drew a deep breath, her shoulders sagging. "How should I tell you why, Mariam? There isn't really an answer. Let's just say… we're not compatible." She forced the words out, swallowing down the heaviness of her past.
Mariam's brows knit together. "You might not feel compatible now, Madam, but why not try? Why not take a step to truly know each other?"
Anna let out a low chuckle. "It's not that easy, Mariam."
But the older woman shook her head softly. "Master isn't someone who opens up easily. Yes, he can be cold. Yes, he's terrible at expressing himself. But…" she paused, her voice thoughtful, "he isn't as bad as you think. I've known him for years. He's stern, but kind in ways people rarely notice."
Anna's lips curved faintly, her eyes calm but firm. "He might not be a bad person, Mariam. But he's not my person."
"…huh?"
Anna dismissed the question with a small shake of her head, unwilling to stretch the conversation any further. Instead, her tone shifted. "There is something I haven't told you, Mariam."
That caught the woman's attention.
After Daniel's unexpected visit for lunch, Anna realized she had to tread more carefully. She couldn't afford to be caught off-guard again. If she wanted freedom, she needed her plans hidden—Mariam was the only one she could trust to cover for her.
So she told her.
…
Mariam's eyes widened in exaggeration as Anna revealed the truth about her new role and the upcoming shoot—along with the fact that Daniel must not know.
"Madam, are you… short of money?" Mariam asked, baffled. "Why would you even want to work?"
Anna sighed, then plastered on a playful smile. "Because, Mariam—I want to be filthy rich."
Mariam: "…"
'Isn't she already?'
"Anyway, let's not argue about it," Anna cut her off quickly. "What matters is this—you must promise me you won't breathe a word to Daniel. And if he suddenly comes home again like he did today, just tell him I'm not feeling well. Buy me some time."
Her eyes gleamed with quiet determination. This wasn't just about money—it was about her freedom, her dreams, and finding Kathrine. She wouldn't let anyone, not even Daniel, stand in her way.
Mariam's lips pressed together. She wanted to argue, but she saw the fire in Anna's eyes. The girl had made up her mind.
"…Alright. I promise, Madam," Mariam said finally, her voice steady.
Anna's shoulders relaxed, relief washing through her. She trusted Mariam—and she knew the older woman would never betray her.
Mariam rose from the bed and smoothed down her apron. "I'll handle it."
As she left the room, Anna lay back against the pillows, her gaze drifting up to the ceiling.
Tomorrow would be the first step toward rewriting her destiny—and Anna swore she wouldn't mess it up.
For the first time in a long time, her chest felt lighter, her heart steady with determination. She had a path, a plan, and the will to carry it out.
But what Anna didn't know was that her secret wasn't as safe as she believed.
Just outside the slightly ajar door, hidden in the shadows of the corridor, a pair of eyes gleamed with malice.
Someone had heard every word.
And that someone… couldn't stand her presence in Clafford Mansion.