Anna's hands tore through the fabric with a satisfying rip, the sound echoing through the room like a battle cry.
Daniel froze in the doorway, his eyes widening at the sight before him. His branded suits—tailored, imported, worth more than most people's monthly salaries—were scattered across the floor in pitiful shreds.
And there she was. His wife.
Sitting cross-legged like a mischievous child, scissors in hand, humming softly as if she were sketching a masterpiece with fabric instead of paper.
His face darkened, fury surging to the surface. "What the hell have you done?!" His voice thundered across the room, venom dripping from each word. "You destroyed my clothes!"
Anna slowly lifted her gaze to him, unfazed by his rage. Her lips curved into a wicked smile, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
"See, Daniel?" Anna said sweetly, almost mockingly, holding up a jagged strip of fabric like a prize. She lifted what used to be a fine trouser, now butchered into shorts barely fit for a child. "Aren't they cute?" She tilted her head, feigning innocence. "Though… I doubt they'd suit you."
Daniel's rage boiled over. In two strides he was on her, seizing her arm and yanking her up to her feet.
"Ouch—you're hurting me!" Anna winced, but he only pulled her closer, his breath hot, his eyes blazing into hers.
"What the hell do you think you're doing? Have you lost your mind—destroying all of my clothes?" His voice was a growl, heavy with barely contained fury.
But Anna only smiled. Defiant. Unyielding.
"What's wrong? You didn't like my art?"
His eyes darkened further, the warning in them enough to make anyone else shiver. But Anna refused to look away. She refused to be the meek woman she once was.
If Daniel wouldn't leave her alone, then she would push him to hate her—so much that he would have to let her go.
"Anna Bennett…" His voice was low, dangerous. "Don't you dare test my patience."
She held his glare, her tone cold. "You should've thought of that when I asked you to move to another room. But you didn't. So this is what you get."
Heat coiled between them, the air itself tightening, both daring the other to break first.
Then Daniel's lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. "Ah. So this is your little trick."
Anna blinked, thrown for a second. "What?"
"You're trying to get under my skin," he said smoothly, releasing her wrist. "Riling me up. Hoping I'll lose control… and grant you the divorce you're so desperate for."
Anna's breath caught. Her mask almost slipped. How did he—
"Smart move, Anna Bennett." His grin widened, sharp as a blade. "But let me make this very clear—you'll never win. I'm never giving you the satisfaction."
Her chest tightened, words tangling on her tongue. "W-What do you mean?"
Daniel stepped closer, his shadow falling over her, his voice dropping into something final, unshakable.
"What I mean is, you're stuck with me. Forever. No matter what, I will never divorce you." His eyes gleamed under the silver wash of moonlight streaming through the window, making his vow all the more terrifying.
Anna's lips parted, but no sound came out. What in the world just happened?
With a glance at the shredded suits, Daniel straightened, unbothered. "Destroy as many clothes as you want. I have more." He turned, striding toward the bathroom. "And as for moving into another room? Forget it. From today, my dear wife…" He paused, looking over his shoulder with a smirk. "…we'll be sharing the same bed."
Her world flipped. Her knees nearly buckled.
She wanted to scream, to slap that smug smile off his face, to drown him in the nearest bathtub and happily rot in prison if it meant never seeing him again.
Instead, her fury exploded.
"Argh! Daniel Clafford—I swear I'm going to kill you!" she shrieked, her voice ringing through the mansion as she stomped across the room.
Behind the bathroom door, Daniel smirked faintly as the sound of her rage echoed. Her defiance only fed the fire in his chest.
And for reasons he refused to name… he liked it.
Anna stormed out of the room, her chest heaving with anger.
If Daniel refused to move, then fine—she would. But sharing the same bed with him?
Dream on, Daniel Clafford.
She slammed the door shut behind her, the echo carrying down the hall. Determined, she was about to look for Mariam when a young maid rounded the corner with a food tray.
"Madam, I brought dinner for the master," the girl said politely.
Anna's eyes flickered. She recognized that face instantly—Kira. One of Daniel's starry-eyed admirers. How could she forget the way this girl practically drooled whenever her husband appeared in sight, even after the marriage?
Her lips curved into a sharp smile. Perfect.
Anna glanced from Kira to the tray in her hands. "Where's Mariam? Tell her to move my belongings into the other room." Without waiting for an answer, she snatched the tray right out of Kira's grasp and marched down the corridor.
Kira froze, stunned. Slowly, her surprise melted into satisfaction, her lips curling in triumph.
"So I was right," she muttered to herself. "The couple aren't even sleeping together."
Her heart fluttered with wicked delight as she turned away, humming softly to herself. The thought of Daniel Clafford—so perfect, so untouchable—being chained to a wife he didn't even share a room with, was like fuel to her imagination. A pleasant mood followed her as she disappeared down the hall.
***
By the time Daniel stepped out of the bathroom, towel draped around his shoulders, he already knew Anna would be gone.
He'd expected it. She wouldn't allow him to share her bed. She'd rather run.
Still, his thoughts betrayed him.
Daniel Clafford, your lips are so juicy… I want to bite them.
The memory of her sleep-talking resurfaced, unbidden, and his chest tightened with a rush of heat he despised.
Daniel clenched his jaw, forcing the thought away. It had been nothing more than a dream. In reality, Anna was chaos incarnate—cutting up his clothes, provoking him, spitting divorce into every conversation. She was driving him insane.
And yet…
With a frustrated shake of his head, Daniel reached for his phone and dialed. "Mariam. Bring me a set of spare clothes."
Minutes later, Mariam entered the room. The moment her eyes fell on the scene—fine suits shredded across the floor, fabric dangling like casualties of war—she instantly understood.
She said nothing, only handed him the neatly folded clothes.
"Get this cleaned," Daniel ordered curtly, taking the fresh attire.
Mariam's gaze flickered over the ruined garments again, then to Daniel. What struck her wasn't his order—it was his composure. His wife had torn through his expensive wardrobe like a storm, yet he stood there calm, collected, as if nothing mattered.
She bowed her head and gathered the remains without a word. But as she left the room, one thought nagged at her.
If Daniel Clafford wasn't angry, it could only mean one thing.
He wasn't just tolerating his wife's defiance—he was watching her.
"Master, Madam has moved into the room next to yours," Mariam reported softly, standing straight as Daniel buttoned his shirt.
He paused only briefly, a low hum escaping his throat.
That was it.
No protest. No reaction. Just indifference.
Mariam's lips pressed together, disappointment tugging at her chest. Is he really not going to do anything to win her back?
She would be lying if she said she hadn't noticed. Daniel Clafford had never entertained women. Not once. Cold, distant, unreachable—he lived as though his heart had long been locked away.
So when he announced his marriage to Kathrine Bennett, Mariam had dared to believe. For the first time, she thought her master had chosen someone for love.
But that illusion shattered the moment the bride fled and Anna—her quiet, overlooked sister—was forced to take her place.
Anna, who had been thrown into the fire for no crime of her own.
Mariam understood that her master was still haunted, still nursing wounds Kathrine had left behind. But how long would he chain himself to betrayal while ignoring the woman now bound to him?
Anna was innocent. Lost. Trying. And yet Daniel gave her nothing but silence and cold defiance.
Mariam lowered her head, hiding her troubled thoughts. She didn't linger long. But the second she turned to leave, his voice stopped her.
"Don't worry, she'll be crawling back to this room again" his said with sheer confidence that broke all her thoughts.