CHAPTER 243: DISCARDED PUPPY

Meanwhile, Daniel abruptly jolted awake, chest heaving, the remnants of the same nightmare clawing at his mind. He dragged in a shaky breath, blinking through the fog of sleep—and then his eyes softened.

Someone was next to him.

Anna.

She had fallen asleep with her head resting on the edge of the bed, her hand tightly wrapped around his. Her lower body was still perched awkwardly on the chair beside him.

"Wasn’t she supposed to sleep next to me?" he muttered, remembering how he had pulled her into his arms before sleep dragged him under. But now... seeing her curled uncomfortably, chin resting on their intertwined hands—

Daniel pushed himself up.

Big mistake.

"Huh?" Anna stirred instantly, blinking her sleepy eyes open. She wiped a small droplet of drool at the corner of her lips and sat straighter. "When did you wake up? How are you feeling now?"

Her voice carried that soft, hushed concern she always tried to hide.

Anna had returned from the police station with her mind full and her heart heavier than she wanted to admit. Henry told her Daniel was asleep, but she needed to see it herself. Needed to breathe easier.

And seeing him sleeping had loosened the tight knot in her chest.

After everything that happened—Mariam’s confession, the officer’s findings, the name of the man Shawn mentioned—everything was getting tangled, dangerous, and unpredictable. She wanted just one moment of peace, one moment where she didn’t have to think.

Her safest place had always been Daniel.

Even when he held secrets.

Even when she did too.

Daniel didn’t answer her question. Instead, he narrowed his eyes slightly, his voice low.

"Where did you go?"

Anna paused, caught off guard by the directness—and his deliberate attempt to avoid her earlier question.

She glanced at their intertwined hands, then offered a weak smile.

"Police station," she said softly. "The officer found the culprit."

Daniel’s expression sharpened immediately.

He’d been keeping track of the investigation himself—he just missed today’s update because he’d been feverish and unconscious.

"It’s Kira," she added, watching his face intently.

Daniel’s jaw tightened. Not in shock. Not in confusion.

But in a way that made Anna’s stomach twist— as if he already knew something she didn’t.

As if her words confirmed a suspicion he’d been holding back.

And worse... as if he believed she knew more than she was saying.

His eyes darkened. His grip on the sheets tightened.

"I want to go home," he announced abruptly.

Anna blinked, completely caught off guard by the sudden demand. But his tone left no space for argument. So she simply nodded, gathered his things, and escorted him out of Glorious International.

He didn’t speak once during the drive.

Not a single word.

Anna kept glancing at him—his fatigue was written clearly across his features, the fever still clinging to his skin. But beneath the exhaustion lay something else...

A tension. A brooding silence. A mind spinning with questions he refused to voice.

Normally, she left him alone when he went quiet. Daniel had always been the type to simmer silently, sorting through his thoughts at his own pace.

But this time, the silence felt different.

Heavy.Sharp. Personal.

Was he upset? Was he suspicious? Or was he simply being his usual guarded self?

Anna couldn’t tell. And that bothered her more than she expected.

When they finally reached the Clafford Estate, she helped him into their room despite his weak protests. He sank onto the edge of the bed, shoulders tense, eyes fixed somewhere on the floor.

"Are you not going to ask me how it’s Kira?" Anna asked suddenly, breaking the suffocating quiet.

Daniel froze. Then slowly looked over his shoulder at her.

"No."

Just that.One flat, startlingly cold word.

Anna stared at him, taken aback. Before she realized it, she had rushed to him, her footsteps quick, her heart restless.

"Why?" she demanded softly, searching his eyes.

Daniel lifted his gaze to her—slowly, deliberately. His fever made his eyes darker, glassier... but the force in them was unmistakable.

"Because I don’t want to push you into saying something that will make things uncomfortable for you."

Anna blinked, stunned for the second time that evening.

This wasn’t the Daniel she knew.

The Daniel she knew would have cornered her with questions until she gave him answers. He would have pressed, demanded, pried. But this Daniel... was stepping back. Respecting her space. Remembering every word she’d said about trust.

It made something warm flutter in her chest.

Before she realized it, she was sitting beside him.

"I’m not uncomfortable," she said softly. "I just don’t want you stressing over anything. You already have a fever."

Daniel’s eyes softened the moment she cupped his face. Her thumb brushed gently along his cheek, calming him, grounding him.

He had been drowning in doubt—wondering if he was truly worthy of her trust, of her honesty. It was why he hadn’t forced her to talk despite sensing something off.

But her reasoning—her worry—quieted all those thoughts.

She cared. She was worried about him and that was enough.

"Let’s not talk about it now," he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Anna nodded. They had too much on their shoulders already. But right now, they simply wanted the comfort of each other’s presence.

After sitting like that for a few peaceful seconds, Anna pulled back slightly.

"You still have fever," she muttered, brushing her hand over his forehead. It wasn’t as bad as earlier—but the heat was still there.

"But I want you," Daniel whined, sounding remarkably like a spoiled child deprived of his favorite toy.

Anna let out a short laugh. "You’re acting like a kid, Daniel. If I’d known fever would change your entire personality, I would’ve reconsidered our deal."

Daniel’s brows knitted instantly, his expression darkening. "What do you mean? Are you still thinking of divorcing me, wifey?"

The genuine horror in his voice made Anna burst into louder laughter.

He scowled, entirely confused.

Daniel may have been a genius in business, but when it came to her teasing—he was hopeless.

"You look like someone ready to commit murder," she teased, pointing at his stiff expression.

Daniel blinked, baffled.

"Anyway," she said, rising to her feet, "I can’t let you sleep like this. Come, I’ll clean you up first and then we can have dinner."

But before she could step away, Daniel grabbed her wrist and yanked her back toward him. She stumbled and landed partly on his chest.

His eyes gleamed mischievously. "Will I get to clean you too?"

"No."

Daniel’s smile fell so fast it was comedic.

"But I’m hungry for you, wifey," he insisted dramatically. "I need my dose to feel better."

Anna stared at him in disbelief.

What is wrong with this man?Did the fever burn his last functioning brain cell?

She could practically see the shameless fantasies racing in his mind, and she wanted no part of it.

’I should dump a bucket of ice water on his head. Maybe that’ll sober him.’

With that murderous thought warming her heart, Anna stood up, completely ignoring his outrageous comments as if he hadn’t said a word.

And without even glancing back, she walked straight into the bathroom.

Behind her, Daniel sulked on the bed like a discarded puppy.