"That was rude," Anna suddenly blurted, stopping Ethan mid-step.
"You should have helped her," she added with a half-shrug, masking her unease beneath a feigned unimpressed tone.
Ethan turned his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as if studying her reaction. The weight of his gaze unsettled her more than his silence. Finally, he said, "Why would I, when she fell on her own?"
Anna’s lips parted, stunned. So he did see through her act...
"But she accused of pushing her," Anna pressed, brows knitting together. "You heard that, didn’t you?"
He didn’t answer—at least not right away. But silence itself was enough.
"If that’s the lie you spun just to save , then I guess I should leave," she muttered, turning.
Ethan blinked, caught off guard. She had exposed him so easily. Yes, he had been ready to leave the studio—but when he saw Fiona dramatically throw herself to the ground in front of Anna, he knew sothing was wrong. So he stepped in, crafting the excuse that he needed to "discuss" sothing with Anna.
Now, caught in his lie, he felt oddly embarrassed.
Just as Anna reached for the door, his voice stopped her. "Aren’t you going to thank ?"
She froze, glancing back at him with disbelief. ’Does he really want to thank him that badly?’
Still, she sighed and offered him a polite bow. "Fine. Thank you."
Ethan blinked, surprised by her sudden sincerity. But then she straightened, her eyes steady and sharp.
"Even though the act wasn’t ant for —it was for you."
His brows lifted. "For ?"
Anna gave a small, humorless laugh. "Why wouldn’t it be? There are plenty of girls swooning over you. Fiona just happens to be one of them."
’Not just now... but for a very long ti.’ she sneered ntally.
Ethan inhaled slowly, the truth of her words settling uncomfortably in his chest. He was used to attention, used to the shallow admiration that followed him everywhere. But hearing Anna point it out so casually, almost dismissively, left a strange taste in his mouth.
Then, out of nowhere, she asked, "Ah—by the way, can I get your autograph?"
Ethan blinked. "You want my autograph? Are you also my fan?"
Anna stared at him in disbelief. "Ha! Who said that?" She laughed awkwardly, looking away, as if the very idea was absurd.
Yet Ethan couldn’t ignore the way her ears flushed pink. He found himself unexpectedly amused. Fans usually scread, cried, begged for his signature. But Anna? She practically choked on the word fan.
Shaking his head, he strode to the reception desk, picked up a pen and scrap of paper, and in one fluid motion signed it. Then he handed it to her.
Anna took it, read the words, and her jaw dropped.
"With all love, to my favorite fan."
Her eyes shot back to him, wide and indignant. Ethan only flashed her that practiced, devastating smile—the sa one he gave at fan ets—except this ti, it lingered just a fraction longer.
"..."
Anna swore her soul left her body.
***
[Bennett Mansion]
After losing the deal with Mr. Smith, Hugo had been restless, pacing the length of the living hall like a caged lion. Every lead he sent out ca back empty. No reports, no whispers, not even a rumor of the company Smith had joined hands with.
It was as though soone had buried the information deliberately. And that thought alone agitated him to no end.
"Honey, you shouldn’t stress over a re collaboration," Rosiline said softly from the couch, her tone more placating than comforting. "Rember the saying—everything happens for a reason."
Her attempt at consolation only sharpened his scowl.
"You have no idea how important that deal was, Rosiline," Hugo snapped, his voice laced with frustration. "Smith wasn’t just another businessman. He was the one who introduced Daniel into the business world. That connection was more than a deal—it was leverage."
Rosiline’s eyes widened, his words slowly sinking in.
"I needed to secure Smith’s goodwill," Hugo continued, fists clenching at his sides. "He was the only man, aside from Daniel, who had the power to pull us out of this ss. And now, with that door shut, I’m left with nothing but regret."
He slumped briefly into a chair, rubbing his temples. The weight of the dummy accounts, the risky transfers, the shadowy investnts—all of it pressed heavy on his shoulders. If things didn’t turn around soon, even Daniel might start looking closer.
Hugo’s gaze suddenly slid to his wife. "Has Kathrine contacted you again?"
Rosiline stiffened, her composure cracking at the ntion of their elder daughter.
"N-no, she hasn’t. But—"
Her hesitation made his brows furrow, suspicion sharpening his features.
"But what?" His voice cut through the room, low and edged with warning.
Rosiline’s fingers twisted nervously in her lap. "She... she warned that she would return if things don’t settle for her there."
Hugo’s expression hardened like stone.
"Why is it so difficult for her to understand the situation?" His voice thundered, echoing off the walls. "Does she forget all of this happened because she backed out of the marriage and ran? If we hadn’t intercepted her in ti, she would’ve been traced by Daniel himself!"
The mory still made his blood run cold. The mont he learned Kathrine had fled, he’d dispatched his n. They had found her just before she could board a plane. Too close. Too reckless.
But by then, the damage was already done. The decision had been made, and Anna—quiet, forgettable Anna—was married to Daniel in her place.
Rosiline flinched at her husband’s rising temper. "D-don’t worry, darling. I’ll talk to Kathrine. I’ll explain everything again. I’m sure she’ll understand."
Hugo wasn’t convinced. Kathrine had always been headstrong, unpredictable. And now, she had more power to complicate things than ever.
His gaze sharpened. "And Anna? What about her? I heard she visited yesterday. Why didn’t you ntion it?"
Rosiline froze. Her eyes darted anywhere but her husband’s, searching desperately for an escape from the question.
"She... she just ca to see . It’s been so ti," she lied, her voice thin, her palms clammy.
She couldn’t tell him the truth—that Anna was pursuing acting, that she had stepped onto a stage that might put her in the spotlight. With everything hanging by a thread, one wrong word could snap Hugo’s fragile control.
And the Bennetts couldn’t afford that. Not now.
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