Daniel arrived at the Bennett mansion already knowing what he would find.
After the stunt Anna had pulled last night, there was nowhere else she could have gone. Her parents' house was the only refuge she had ever known.
So when he saw her step out behind Hugo and Roseline, her head bowed like a guilty child, his lips curled into a slow, sinister smirk.
Anna didn't dare look at him, but she could feel his eyes cutting into her, burning holes through her fragile composure as they were ushered into the living room.
"I should have known," Daniel drawled, his voice breaking the silence with a lazy cruelty. "My wife must have been missing her parents."
The mocking lilt in his tone twisted Anna's stomach.
"But leaving without informing me…" His smirk sharpened, though his eyes stayed cold. "…was rather rude."
Anna flinched at the weight of his words. Slowly—against her better judgment—she lifted her gaze.
It wasn't his unexpected presence that unsettled her. It was the way he looked at her. That smile, dangerous and hollow, was a warning. She had provoked him. And Daniel Clafford was not a man to forgive lightly.
Hugo and Roseline exchanged a quick, uneasy glance before Roseline stepped forward, her voice sugar-coated with politeness.
"Please forgive her, Mr. Clafford. Anna has never been away from home before. Perhaps she was overcome with longing for us. But don't worry—we've made her understand her mistake."
Roseline's tone dripped with practiced sweetness, every word carefully crafted to appease him.
Daniel didn't even glance at her. His eyes never left Anna.
Silence stretched, mocking, until he finally spoke again, voice low and cutting.
"Apology accepted." His lips curved, but his stare grew colder. "But I'll be far more convinced if I hear it from my wife. After all…" He leaned back with infuriating calm. "…I had to come running here myself after finding our home empty."
The words landed heavy, full of threat. Anna's throat tightened. She could feel her parents' eyes pressing into her, begging her to submit, to bow her head.
But she didn't.
And when she didn't, Daniel laughed—low, deliberate, cruel.
"Never mind," he murmured, his gaze glinting with something darker. "I'm sure my wife has… other ways of convincing me."
The innuendo made Anna's stomach twist, but her eyes narrowed with unspoken defiance.
Apologize? In your dreams, Daniel Clafford.
The tension was unbearable until Roseline, desperate, plastered on a brittle smile.
"How about we have breakfast together?" she offered quickly. "That way, we can clear this little misunderstanding."
Anna's head snapped toward her mother, her eyes cold and accusing.
Hugo nodded stiffly, his voice clipped. "Of course. That way, we can express our sincere apology to you, Mr. Clafford."
Daniel's smirk deepened at their submission, but his eyes slid back to Anna, gleaming with promise.
"So kind of you, Mr. and Mrs. Bennett," he said smoothly, "but I'll have to politely decline. You see, I had planned on having breakfast with my wife."
Anna's heart lurched as Daniel rose. His expression remained neutral, but she knew better. Something dangerous brewed beneath that calm exterior.
This isn't thoughtfulness. This is control.
"So, if you'll excuse us," Daniel said silkily, reaching for her. "I'll take my wife out."
Before Anna could react, his hand clamped around hers.
Her eyes widened, panic flashing across her face. She tried to pull back, but his grip was iron, dragging her forward without hesitation.
"Daniel—" she began, but her protest was swallowed as he marched her toward the door.
Hugo and Roseline said nothing. They didn't stop him. They only watched as their daughter was pulled away.
Outside, Daniel didn't release her. Not even when they reached the car.
"What do you think you're doing?" Anna demanded, struggling against his hold.
Daniel's glare cut into her, his jaw tight with fury. If only she knew how badly she had upset him… If she had any sense, she would have been in their bedroom right now, locked away until she learned her place.
Instead, she had dared to defy him.
He said nothing. He only yanked open the backseat door and shoved her inside.
Thud!
Anna slammed against the seat, immediately clawing at the handle, pounding on the glass, but it was useless. The locks held firm.
Sliding in beside her, Daniel gave the driver a single glance. The engine rumbled to life, and the car pulled away from the Bennett mansion.
Anna stilled, her chest heaving, her eyes burning with fury.
"Tell me why you're doing this, Daniel," she hissed. "Wasn't I clear last night? I want a divorce."
The word rang through the car like a gunshot. The driver's eyes flickered to the rearview mirror before darting away.
Daniel noticed. His lips curled in disdain as he turned back to Anna.
"And you conveniently forget that I refused," he said flatly, his voice like steel.
Anna's chest tightened. This wasn't the Daniel she remembered—the cold, indifferent man who ignored her existence. This version was worse. Petty. Obsessive. Determined.
"Daniel," she whispered harshly, "I know you're still angry at Kathrine. But dragging this marriage on—pretending—it won't fix what she did. We both know you don't love me. This marriage is a mistake."
Her words were sharp but trembling, pleading for reason.
Daniel's gaze hardened. "So what if I don't love you? We are still married."
The bluntness of it silenced her. The truth of her nightmare was laid bare.
A loveless marriage. A cage without affection. A vow he'd never intended to keep.
Her voice was ice when she finally spoke. "And I don't want to be with you."
This time, when Daniel looked at her, her eyes were glacial, filled not with fear but hate.
For a flicker of a moment, something in him faltered. His chest tightened, though he hid it well.
Why does she hate me so much? The thought sliced through his mind, lingering like a wound he didn't know how to close.
But Anna had already looked away, her voice softer now, though heavy with finality.
"So please," she whispered, "let's not make this harder for either of us."
Daniel studied her, silent.
The kind, loving girl who had once longed for her family's approval, for her husband's affection—she was gone.
In her place sat a woman cloaked in coldness and void.
And for the first time, Daniel wondered if he had lost control of something he was never meant to hold.
"Master," the driver's voice cut through the silence.
Daniel blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, and turned his gaze toward the window.
They were back at Clafford Mansion.
Anna stiffened as the gates loomed into view, the car rolling smoothly into the estate she had fled from only hours ago. Her stomach knotted as the familiar walls rose around her, taller and more suffocating than she remembered.
Her fingers clenched tightly in her lap.
Back here again.
The very place she had escaped, only to be dragged back as though her attempt had been nothing more than a child's foolish rebellion.
Her eyes flickered toward Daniel. His expression was unreadable, carved from stone, his jaw set, his stare fixed out the window. He hadn't said a word since their exchange in the car, but his silence was heavier than anger—like the calm before a storm.
Anna's breath caught.
Something felt different this time. Not just the suffocating presence of the mansion itself, but the way Daniel carried himself.
Cold. Silent. Possessive.
As if he was no longer thinking of her as his wife—but as something that belonged to him, to be caged and contained.
Why do I feel like I'm never leaving this place again?
The thought tightened around her chest like iron chains, and as the car slowed to a stop before the grand entrance, Anna's heart sank with the terrifying certainty of it.