That night Daniel returned home late. As he climbed the stairs, his steps slowed, his gaze drifting to the door beside his own—the room Anna had claimed.
He had instructed Mariam to fix the AC that morning, but it wasn't the repair that made him linger. It was her.
It had been only days since their marriage, yet Anna had done nothing but surprise him. Her boldness, her defiance, even her laughter—it unsettled him. She wanted a divorce. She wanted to work. She wanted to live a life in shadows, refusing to ask him for anything.
And still, she consumed his thoughts.
His fingers tightened around the doorknob of his own room, but he let go, turning instead toward hers.
Last night, she had snuck into his room like a thief, and instead of anger, he had felt… amused. A strange warmth had curled in his chest at how easily he could predict her movements. And yet, deep down, he knew—it hadn't been because she missed him. She had only come for her phone.
'Should I check on her?' The thought pressed harder than he wanted to admit.
Daniel Clafford had never cared for anyone—not since her. But Anna… she made him think otherwise.
In the end, his urge won. With careful movements, he opened the door and stepped inside.
The room was dim, faint moonlight spilling across the bed. And there she was sprawled carelessly, duvet half on the floor.
Daniel exhaled through his nose, shaking his head at her lack of decorum. But when his eyes lingered on her face, all humor drained.
She looked peaceful, soft. Her lashes fluttered against flushed cheeks, lips parted slightly in her sleep.
'Too tempting.'
Heat pooled low in his body, and Daniel froze when he felt himself harden at the sight. Yet his body betrayed him by leaning closer. He reached down, pulling the duvet over her gently.
He should have stopped there. But his gaze was fixed on her lips—plump, parted, waiting. His chest tightened. His breath caught. And then—
His lips brushed hers.
Soft. Warm. A taste he shouldn't want but craved with a desperation that startled him.
The kiss lasted no longer than a heartbeat, but when Daniel pulled back, his chest heaved.
'What the hell did I just do?'
His brows drew together in disbelief. He had stolen a kiss from her while she slept soundly, unaware, whereas he stood over her, shaken to his core.
Desire gnawed at him, his arousal undeniable. Clenching his jaw, Daniel forced himself to retreat, stepping away from the bed as if it burned him. He slipped out of her room swiftly, his composure fractured.
But the moment he closed the door behind him—
"Master, you're home."
Daniel stilled. His eyes shifted, finding Kira—Mariam's niece standing in the way with a polite smile on her face.
'Why is she still awake?'
He quickly schooled his expression back to its calm mask. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be asleep?"
Kira tilted her head, her tone soft, too careful. "I was about to, but when I saw your car arrive… I thought I'd check if you needed anything."
Her voice was sweet, her words deferential—but her eyes lingered on him, watching too closely, too boldly.
Daniel's jaw flexed. He didn't like it.
"No. I don't need anything. Go to bed." His voice was clipped, dismissive. Without sparing her another glance, he walked past and disappeared into his room.
Kira's eyes followed him, sharp beneath her false sweetness. And when his door clicked shut, her lips curved into a sly smile.
***
The next morning, the first thing Anna did after opening her eyes was glance at the clock—and then immediately check if Daniel had already left for work.
When Mariam confirmed he was gone, relief washed through her. Without wasting another second, she quickly got dressed, grabbed her bag, and slipped out of the mansion.
She had already warned Mariam about her shoot. The old woman, loyal as ever, had promised to cover for her if Daniel asked questions. That assurance gave Anna just enough courage to step onto the set with her heart lightened.
The moment she entered, a familiar cheerful voice called out—
"Big Sis, you're here!"
Anna turned, and her lips curved into a smile at the sight of Betty bounding toward her.
"I hope I'm not late," Anna said, still a little breathless, worried she had somehow missed her call time.
Betty shook her head with a bright grin. "Nope, you're right on time. Come on, let's get you ready!"
With that, Betty took her hand and practically dragged her down the narrow corridor, guiding her into a modest preparation room.
Anna glanced at the wardrobe rack and nearly choked.
Her costume—a plain white gown that looked straight out of a horror flick.
"Since your role's just an extra, it won't take long," Betty chirped, already bustling around. "All you have to do is wear this and lie in the coffin. The makeup artists will take care of the rest."
Anna blinked at her reflection in the mirror as the gown was slipped into her arms. "So… basically, I'm a ghost bride lying dead in a box?"
Betty's grin widened. "Exactly. Doesn't it sound fun?"
Anna's lips twitched. 'Fun? She'd dreamed of acting all her life, and her first role was… a corpse.'
Still, she reminded herself, work is work. Even if she started as a ghost in a coffin, it was still her first step toward something bigger.
"Fine," she muttered under her breath, slipping into the gown. "Dead body role, here I come."
By the time Anna finished getting ready, a sudden loud gasp startled her.
"Oh my god, Big Sis! You look so beautiful—even as a ghost!" Betty squealed, practically bouncing on her toes.
Before Anna could react, Betty had already whipped out her phone and started snapping pictures. Click! Click! Click!
"You can save these as memories of your very first job," Betty grinned, proudly shoving the phone in front of Anna's face.
Anna blinked at the screen. With her pale ghostly makeup and white gown, she thought she looked like a washed-out mannequin. But oddly enough… she didn't look half bad. Almost hauntingly pretty, even.
When Betty pointed it out, Anna couldn't help but laugh and accept it. "Fine, I'll admit it. Not much difference with or without the makeup. Guess I'm born for this role."
Just then, a crew member's voice echoed from the hallway. "Anna, it's your turn now!"
Anna straightened instantly, glancing at herself in the mirror one last time before taking a deep breath.
"You've got this, Big Sis!" Betty called after her, fists pumping in encouragement.
With that, Anna stepped out and followed the crew member toward the set.
Her role was barely a few seconds long, but lying in the coffin with the camera hovering above her was strangely surreal. She had to stay perfectly still, not even blink. The director circled her like a hawk, watching her closely, then suddenly clapped his hands.
"Perfect! She's a natural corpse! Keep rolling!"
…
Anna's lips twitched from where she lay frozen. 'Natural corpse? Really? That's my first compliment as an actress?'
By the time her short scene wrapped up, she sat up from the coffin, stretching her stiff limbs, and realized how hard it is to even lay still and do nothing. But then a voice called her.
"Miss Anna" her eyes shot in the direction of the man who was none other than the director. Mr. Wilsmith.
"May I have a word with you?" he said causing Anna to blink at his politeness.