Chapter 58: Get ready
Anna spent the entire evening curled up with the script Wilsmith had handed them. The words blurred together after a while, but what stood out was the eerie familiarity. Her character—Olive, the woman who wasted her life pining for a man who never loved her—felt uncomfortably close to home.
"Who cries for a man who doesn’t love you?" she muttered under her breath, her lips twisting.
’As if you didn’t,’ a mocking voice whispered inside her head, one she didn’t want to acknowledge.
Anna pressed her lips together, her throat tightening. "At least I didn’t cry into a pillow," she argued softly, almost as though she could silence that cruel echo.
’Another lie.’
Her chest hollowed at the truth she tried so hard to bury. From being bullied in school, to cowardly avoiding her crush, to working herself to exhaustion just to win scraps of attention from her husband—every step of her life had been laced with failure.
Hopeless. That’s what most people would call her. Because no matter how many times she fell, she still tried until her last breath.
Her hand trembled as she brushed the script. "At least I didn’t die like her," she whispered, her voice faint, haunted by the memory of her own death—unexpected, cruel, and leaving her no chance to save herself.
Anna shook her head hard, as if she could fling away the ghosts clawing at her mind. "No. Let’s not think about it," she said firmly. The past was gone. This time, she had a chance to change everything.
She glanced back at the script, determination flickering in her eyes. This time, I won’t be Olive. I’ll be stronger.
A sharp ping broke her thoughts. Anna snatched up her phone, and a smile curved her lips as she read Betty’s message.
’Thank you, Big Sis. You are so cool.’
Warmth filled her chest as she typed back quickly:
"Let’s meet tomorrow. I’ll hand you the autograph."
She hit send, setting the phone and the script aside. For the first time that day, she felt a small bubble of peace—looking forward to meeting the one person who felt like a true friend.
But the peace shattered instantly when the door to her room suddenly burst open.
Anna gaped at the sight of Daniel filling the doorway, her breath catching. But the shock quickly gave way to irritation.
"Why in the world do you have to barge in like that? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. "Does everyone in this house take turns scaring the life out of me?"
Daniel didn’t flinch at her outburst. He simply stood there, leaning casually against the frame, his eyes locked on her with unnerving intensity.
Then his voice cut through the air, low and deliberate. "What are you reading?"
Anna stiffened. Her eyes went wide as she saw him move toward her, his gaze flicking to the script on the bed.
"N-Nothing! It’s nothing you need to know." Her hands flew into motion, shoving the script into the bedside drawer with all the subtlety of a thief hiding stolen goods. The drawer slammed shut with a thud.
Daniel’s brows knit, his suspicion deepening at her obvious attempt to hide it. His mind darkened instantly, recalling the image of her yesterday—her hand clasped in another man’s, walking away together as if they shared something private.
The memory scraped at his chest like broken glass. He didn’t want to admit it, but the question clawed at him: Who was that man with you, Anna?
But instead of voicing it, he swallowed the bitter taste and asked something else, his tone clipped. "Get ready. We’re going out."
Anna blinked, caught off guard. The absurdity of his words struck her, and she burst out, "What? I’m not going anywhere with you!"
Her refusal was instant, instinctive. Even if the sky collapsed, she’d rather stay buried under it than follow him willingly.
Daniel’s expression shifted, shadows creeping across his face. His voice dropped, rough and laced with warning. "Don’t you dare test my patience, Anna."
The fury simmering in his tone sent a shiver down her spine, but she forced her legs to stay rooted, forced her chin not to bow.
"And I said—I’m not going anywhere with you!" Her voice trembled, but her defiance stood tall. But as if the boiling volcano suddenly cooled down Daniel turned on his heels.
"Don’t tell me I didn’t warned you" with that he walked out of the room leaving Anna still.
However soon her phone rang, jolting her from her spiraling thoughts. She glanced at the screen, her brows furrowing.
"Hello, Mom," she muttered, already dreading what was coming.
***
Silence filled the car, but it wasn’t peaceful—it was suffocating. The air between them was thick with tension, every second stretching like an eternity.
Anna’s grip on her phone tightened as she turned to him, her voice slicing through the stillness. "How dare you involve my mother in this?" she snapped, her teeth gritted in fury.
The call had been a barrage of nagging. Her mother demanding she attend the dinner at the Bennett mansion, reminding her not to embarrass them. Anna hadn’t even been warned—because instead of telling her outright, Daniel had manipulated the situation, forcing her hand.
And now, here she was, trapped beside him.
Daniel didn’t flinch at her fury. His gaze remained calm, his voice steady. "I warned you," he said.
Anna barked a bitter laugh, her head shaking in disbelief. "Warned me? That’s what you call it? No, Daniel—you commanded me. Who the hell does that?"
"You should’ve listened in the first place." His words dripped with finality, as though the matter was already decided. "Since you didn’t, I called your mother. Told her you refused to come."
Anna’s jaw fell slack. "You complained to my mother?"
Daniel met her outrage with maddening indifference, his expression as cool as stone.
"Unbelievable." She scoffed, turning toward the window, her fists clenching so tight her nails bit into her palms. "This devil just exists to piss me off."
She wanted distance, space, air—anything to break free of him. But Daniel didn’t allow space. He thrived on closing it.
The leather seat creaked, snapping her from her thoughts. Anna’s head whipped around—only to find him leaning in.
Her eyes widened, lips parting in panic. "W-what are you doing? G-go back to your seat!" Her voice was sharp, but underneath, the tremble betrayed her.
Daniel didn’t stop. He closed the distance, his face hovering dangerously near hers, close enough that she felt the warmth of his breath against her cheek. Her chest heaved, her lashes fluttered shut.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Her lips tingled in anticipation, her pulse thundering—yet nothing came.
Instead, the faint rasp of a zipper filled her ears. Anna stiffened, realizing his hand was at her back, tugging her dress’s zipper up with a deliberate, unhurried motion.
Her breath caught. Her eyes snapped open just as he pulled away, retreating back into his seat.
Her face burned crimson, her lips trembling as she tried—and failed—to form words.
Daniel’s gaze lingered on her, sharp yet softened by something unnameable. His lips curled, wickedly amused.
"You think too much, Anna."
The way he said it—the husky calm of his voice, the curve of his mouth, the glint in his eyes—made her feel like the most infuriating, vulnerable, and yet strangely precious thing in his world.