Chapter 71: She’s panicking
Silence blanketed the room once everyone had settled into their assigned seats. Scripts rustled softly, and the faint hum of the air conditioner filled the void.
Anna sat with her script open on the table, her fingers gripping the edges as she reread her lines for what felt like the hundredth time. Her stomach churned with nerves. I can’t mess this up. Not in front of them.
A few chairs down, Fiona flipped open a tiny pocket mirror. She puckered her lips, applying another coat of lipstick with exaggerated precision. Once satisfied that her reflection screamed irresistible, she snapped the mirror shut, gathered her belongings, and plastered on a dazzling smile.
I can’t wait to see who this mysterious producer is, Fiona thought, her heart skipping with excitement. If he’s as wealthy and powerful as they say, then he’s exactly the kind of man I should charm.
Her mind drifted through memories of the industry—the directors she had sweet-talked, the producers she had flirted with, the compromises she had made just to climb a little higher. This new man, whoever he was, could very well be her golden ticket.
"Boss, they’re here," a staff member whispered to Wilsmith, breaking the heavy silence.
Wilsmith immediately rose to his feet, smoothing down his blazer with professional ease. His voice carried through the room as he spoke, steady and firm.
"Everyone, please welcome Mr. Daniel Clafford—renowned businessman and producer of our film."
The room erupted in polite applause.
Everyone except Anna.
Her palms went clammy, her eyes widening as though she’d just seen a ghost.
Daniel?
Her husband—her tormentor—the producer of this movie?
The sound of clapping faded into a dull roar in her ears as she sat frozen, staring in disbelief. Her soul felt like it had just abandoned her body, leaving only the shell of her sitting at the table.
Meanwhile, Daniel strode into the room with the kind of presence that pulled attention without him even trying. His tailored suit cut sharp lines against his tall frame, his expression cool, unreadable. He exchanged a brief handshake with Wilsmith, but on his way across the room his eyes flickered.
Straight to her.
For the briefest second, his stoic façade cracked. His lips curved into that familiar, devastating smirk—the one that made her knees weak and her blood boil at the same time.
Hello, wifey.
Anna’s heart lurched. Her legs trembled beneath the table, threatening to give way, but she forced herself to sit straighter, gripping her script until her knuckles turned white.
’No. I won’t let him see me falter.’
Her mind raced. She had known Daniel was powerful. Ruthless in business. Respected and feared in equal measure. But this? She had never imagined he had ties to the entertainment industry, let alone that he would invest in a movie—her movie.
Fiona, oblivious to Anna’s inner panic, sat straighter in her seat, her smile brightening as her eyes feasted on Daniel’s striking figure. So he’s the producer? Rich, powerful, handsome... and clearly untouchable. Her heart fluttered, but her mind sharpened with calculation. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
Anna, on the other hand, felt her world spin.
’What game are you playing now, Daniel Clafford?’ Anna clenched her fists beneath the table but forced herself to join the others, clapping stiffly for the man she wished wasn’t here.
Fiona on the other hand furrowed when she realized the man was none other than Daniel Clafford and suddenly a thought clicked her mind.
There have been rumors about Daniel getting married to Kathrine, Anna’s sister, but none of them ever confirmed the news. However seeing him as one of the produder of Anna’s first film raised a lot of doubts within.
’Did Anna convince him to get her the role’ she thought because it was obvious that a girl like Anna who wasn’t even capable of becoming a star get the role so easily if not for seeking Daniel’s favor.’
Suddenly Wilsmith voice broke her chain of thoughts and she heaved a breath.
"I am glad that you decided to join us, Mr. Clafford," Wilsmith said, his tone polite but measured.
Daniel inclined his head, his deep voice calm yet commanding. "I had to. After all, being the producer, it’s my responsibility to get to know each of you personally."
Though he addressed the room, his eyes betrayed him. From the corner of his gaze, they lingered—on her. Always on her.
Wilsmith’s smile didn’t waver, but his sharp instincts didn’t miss the subtle pull. He had worked with powerful men before, men who concealed their interest behind masks of professionalism. But Daniel Clafford... he wasn’t trying hard enough to hide it.
So that’s it, Wilsmith thought grimly. No wonder he recommended her. No wonder he insisted on her role. Yet the contradiction puzzled him—Anna’s obvious resistance to Daniel’s presence clashed with the quiet claim Daniel seemed to stake over her.
After the formal introductions concluded, Daniel slid into his seat. His eyes drifted over the room, unreadable, until they landed on Fiona.
Fiona brightened instantly, flashing her most polished smile. ’Daniel Clafford the man of every woman’s dream is our producer and if he is surely single then I must take this as an opprotunity to get close to him’ She held his gaze for a moment longer than necessary, her lashes batting subtly, but Daniel dismissed her with nothing more than a fleeting glance.
Instead, his attention shifted again. Searching. Calculating. And finally stopping where he had meant to from the very beginning.
Ethan Helmsworth.
The name alone stirred something sharp inside him—bitter, unwelcome. From the file Henry had given him, he remembered: the boy who once saved Anna from her bullies.
Daniel masked his thoughts behind a cold neutrality as Ethan looked his way. Ethan offered a polite smile, professional and easy. Daniel returned it with the same courtesy, though something colder flickered in his eyes before he leaned back in his chair.
Wilsmith, sensing the rising tension, stepped forward. "Now, before we begin the table read, let me introduce the rest of the cast."
The room filled with murmurs of acknowledgment and light applause as names were read aloud, but Anna barely heard them. Her pulse was erratic, her throat tight. She could feel Daniel’s presence like a shadow wrapping around her. No matter how hard she tried to focus on her script, his gaze burned into her skin.
’This isn’t just about the movie,’ she thought, heart pounding. This is about me.
One by one, the staff and cast introduced themselves, each voice carrying the familiar rhythm of polite enthusiasm. Daniel responded with the same cool diligence, his composure never cracking.
When Fiona’s turn arrived, she rose with practiced grace, bowing slightly.
"Hello everyone, I am Fiona Stewart, playing the female lead. I hope everyone supports me and encourages me throughout the shoot."
Though her words were directed at the room, her gaze lingered on Daniel—soft, deliberate, searching for acknowledgment. But Daniel’s expression didn’t waver. He merely gave her the same courteous nod he’d given the others. The neutrality in his calm eyes unsettled her, though she forced a smile and returned to her seat.
Ethan was next. His introduction was steady, unpretentious. "Ethan Helmsworth. I’ll be playing the male lead. I look forward to working with you all." His voice carried a quiet authority that drew approving murmurs across the table.
And then—
"Miss Anna, it’s your turn," Wilsmith prompted.
The call startled Anna so abruptly that she jumped in her seat, nearly knocking her script off the table. All eyes swung toward her. Her lips parted, fumbling for words, but the sight of so many stares made her chest tighten. Heat crept up her neck.
’Not now. Please, not now.’
Her throat closed up. The crowded room pressed in on her, the walls shrinking until her lungs burned. She had always hated small spaces, hated being the center of attention. Memories clawed at her—being mocked in class, laughter echoing while she shrank into herself.
Daniel’s sharp gaze cut through the room. His brows furrowed. Her unease was so visible, so raw, that it twisted something inside him. ’Did I do this? Did my presence shake her this badly?’
But Ethan noticed too. His eyes narrowed as recognition struck—her trembling lashes, the faint, shaky breaths. He remembered. That same expression from years ago, when he had found her locked in the storeroom, on the verge of collapse.
’She’s panicking.’
"Miss Anna?" Wilsmith called again, trying to ease the silence with a strained smile.
From her seat, Fiona smirked. Her glossed lips curved cruelly as she watched Anna falter. Finally... cracks in her little act.
Daniel’s heart thudded faster, a restless storm gathering beneath his cool exterior. He was seconds away from stepping in when Anna’s gaze suddenly snapped to someone across the table.
Ethan.
He held her eyes, steady and grounding. With the faintest blink, a silent message passed between them: Breathe. You can do this.
Anna inhaled shakily, following the invisible thread of reassurance. Her lashes fluttered, her pulse steadied just enough—and when she finally spoke, her voice rang clear.
"Hello everyone, I’m Anna, the second female lead. It’s an honor to meet you all, and I look forward to working with you.Thank you"
A silence hung for a beat too long. Then Ethan clapped, slow but firm, breaking the tension.
The sound cut Daniel like glass. His eyes shot toward Ethan, cold and sharp, his jaw tightening as fury coiled in his gut. And yet, his wife Anna was smiling.