"Am I... hallucinating this?" the maid from last night whispered, blinking rapidly before rubbing her eyes just to be sure.
"I doubt it," another maid murmured, completely dumbstruck. "But all I’m seeing looks perfectly normal... sohow."
Normal—except for the sight of Daniel, their cold, intimidating master, patiently coaxing his wife to take another bite of scrambled eggs. He even fed her with a gentleness none of them knew he was capable of.
That morning, when everyone woke up, dread had settled heavily in the servants’ chests. No one knew what Daniel’s mood would be like after the dramatic scene from last night. They all quietly feared his stoic and terrifying deanor would be worse than usual.
But the mont they entered the mansion, they received an unexpected instruction:Prepare breakfast in the open pavilion—Master Daniel would be dining with Madam Anna.
That alone made everyone exchange baffled looks.
And now here they were, peeking discreetly from the side as Daniel leaned forward, wiping a dot of food from the corner of Anna’s lips like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"He doesn’t look like soone who survived a war last night..." one maid muttered, still trying to process the sight. "If anything, he’s acting like he’s afraid to upset her again."
Daniel’s entire posture radiated caution. Careful. Soft-spoken. Attentive. Making absolutely sure Anna ate everything he fed her.
By the end of it, the servants silently realized one thing:
Everything was fine.Their imaginations—wild, dramatic, and extrely creative—had taken things way too far.
They had built entire stories in their heads... and not a single one ca close to the reality unfolding in front of them.
anwhile, Daniel made absolutely sure Anna didn’t skip a single bite from the breakfast laid before them. More than that, he was quietly relieved—Anna wasn’t upset with him anymore. Forgiveness hadn’t been verbally granted, but she wasn’t pushing him away either.
And he definitely took her warning seriously:Not to interfere with her career again.
I promise I won’t... unless I see so useless flies buzzing around you.
He wouldn’t deny it—not even to himself. He was possessive of his wife. Painfully so. And he doubted he would ever be able to handle the idea of Anna smiling, flirting, or even being close to anyone but him.
But he didn’t say it aloud.Instead, he simply nodded like an obedient child desperate not to be scolded by his mother.
"So, what are your plans for today?" Anna asked, watching him as he brought a glass of juice to her lips. She took a sip, but her eyes never left him.
She had originally planned to visit the Bennett household, but Daniel had brought up spending the entire day with her—especially since he had finally decided to take a rare day off. Sothing he hadn’t done in either this lifeti or the past.
Anna rembered how tirelessly he worked. How he never took breaks—ever. So when he requested ti with her, as compensation for his behavior last night, she couldn’t bring herself to refuse him. She pushed her own plans to another day.
"Wifey," Daniel said, voice soft and hopeful, "do you mind if we just... head back to the room and spend the entire day snuggling?"
His only wish was simple: to stay glued to Anna for as long as possible.
But the second she shot him a glare, he cleared his throat and laughed awkwardly.
"I—I was kidding! I know you’re not a fan of that."
Daniel was slowly turning into a complete wife-slave, unbothered by how foolish he might look in front of her. He didn’t care about his pride, his image, or how submissive he seed.
All he cared about... was her.
***
[Ethan’s place]
"So, how was your date? I heard you ca ho pretty late," Stephane asked as she took the seat next to Ethan. He didn’t look up from the docunt he was reading, calmly sipping his smoothie.
After finishing dinner with Kathrine, Ethan hadn’t returned ho imdiately. Instead, he’d taken a long drive, letting the night air clear his head, and spent so quiet ti at the beach before finally heading back.
And knowing exactly how curious his mother would be—and how she’d demand every detail—he’d even taken the extra step of misleading his assistant, who had unintentionally beco the ssenger between him and Stephane.
He had no intention of giving her an easy answer.
Stephane narrowed her eyes, watching her son pretend to be deeply invested in whatever he was reading.
"So," she drawled, leaning closer, "are you going to pretend you didn’t hear , or should I repeat the question louder?"
Ethan calmly flipped to the next page.
"I heard you," he replied without looking up. "And no, I’m not answering."
Stephane scoffed. "Why? Was the date that bad?"
"No," Ethan said, still reading.
"That good?"
He paused.
Just one second—barely noticeable—but Stephane caught it. Her eyes lit up like a detective who finally found a clue.
"Aha! So it was good!"
Ethan took another sip of his smoothie, refusing to et her gaze. "I never said that."
"You didn’t need to. Your face did." She smirked proudly.
"Oh—by the way, I forgot to tell you sothing," Stephane said suddenly, snapping Ethan’s attention back to her.
"Your dad called last night. He said he’ll be returning today and wants to et you, since you haven’t been answering his calls." Her voice shifted subtly—cooler, stiffer—at the ntion of his father.
Stephane was always polite with her ex-husband, but appreciation? That was sothing she no longer possessed. Not when she was in the sa room with him.
"I can see you’re thrilled to et him," Ethan teased, watching his mother shoot him a sharp sideways glance. Her expression only made him smile wider.
But beneath that smile, sothing else flickered.
A quiet curiosity.A hint of unease.
In the back of his mind, Ethan couldn’t help wondering what his father wanted this ti... and what exactly he was bringing with him.
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