Chapter 127: You don’t get to die Anna

The atmosphere inside the vanity room felt heavy — almost suffocating. Anna sat stiffly in her chair, her damp hair clinging to her cheeks, while her sharp eyes practically sliced through Henry, who stood awkwardly near the door, pretending to scroll through his phone.

If looks could kill, he was sure he’d already be six feet under.

’Why do I feel like I’m being punished for doing my job?’ he thought helplessly, sneaking a glance at her — only to freeze when her glare met his.

Ouch. That hurts, he groaned inwardly. I was just helping the boss before he made things worse out there...

Still, the chills didn’t stop.

God, she’s scarier than Daniel, he thought as the doctor packed up his kit, clearing his throat.

"Everything seems fine," the doctor said, snapping off his gloves. "She was rescued right on time. There’s no sign of water inhalation, so she doesn’t need further treatment."

Daniel, who had been standing off to the side with his arms crossed, didn’t look convinced. The image of Anna slipping beneath the water still haunted him — her body going limp, the world narrowing to the sound of his own heartbeat until he’d reached her.

"Are you sure we shouldn’t take her to the hospital? Maybe put her on an IV—"

"Mr. Clafford," Anna cut in quickly, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, "the doctor just said I’m fine."

She stood, brushing off her damp clothes as though that could erase what had just happened. "In fact, I feel more energetic than before. I could go in for another lap."
t. Everyone knows about it, so it’s—"

"So you believe in rumors," Daniel interrupted, his tone suddenly low and razor-sharp. "And worse, you spread them with assumptions."

Fiona’s face blanched. The words hit her like a slap, the air in her lungs thinning as she opened and closed her mouth, unable to respond.

Daniel took a deliberate step closer, his towering presence making her instinctively step back. "If that’s true, Miss Stewart," he said evenly, "then perhaps you should stop your father from pushing you toward me as a potential partner. Because I can see very clearly — you’re not one."

Fiona’s breath hitched. "I-I don’t know what you’re talking about—"

"Oh, but I do," Daniel said quietly, his eyes gleaming with restrained disdain. "Your father, Fredrick Stewart, has been rather persistent in trying to tie our families together. I suppose he didn’t tell you I’m not a man who entertains schemes."

Fiona’s lips parted, her face drained of color.

Daniel adjusted his cufflinks as he stepped around her. "Do me a favor, Miss Stewart," he said without looking back, his voice smooth but final. "The next time you see your father, tell him I’m not interested in his daughter — since, as you just pointed out, I already have someone in my life."

And with that, he walked away, leaving Fiona rooted to the spot, humiliated and trembling.

Her forced composure cracked the moment he turned the corner. The polite smile she’d worn melted into fury, her nails digging into her palms as her chest heaved.

Daniel Clafford was exactly the kind of man her father had described — cunning, ruthless, and brutally sharp when it came to humiliating others.

No matter how many cards her father, Fredrick Stewart, had played to win him over, Daniel had never once yielded.

And now, Fiona finally understood why.

Her pride stung, her chest still tight from the way he’d dismissed her like a nobody. But she refused to let her anger show. Drawing a slow, deep breath, she composed herself — smoothing her hair, lifting her chin — and turned toward Anna’s vanity room.

If she couldn’t win against Daniel, she would at least crush the woman who somehow managed to earn his attention.

When she pushed open the door, her lips curled into a smirk that didn’t reach her eyes.

"My, my, my," she drawled, stepping inside with arms crossed. "I never thought you had so many men wrapped around your finger, Anna."