Chapter 125: Why is she going deeper?
Meanwhile, somewhere across the same city, a man sat alone in a dimly lit room, the glow of his phone reflecting in his cold, narrowed eyes.
"So it’s her," Collin muttered, his lips curling into a twisted smile as he saved the contact under a new name — Target 1.
It had been only a few days since he’d moved into this neighborhood, but luck, it seemed, had finally favored him.
He’d met Kira — the same woman who once worked at the Clafford mansion. The same house that had married off Hugo and Rosaline’s daughter.
After being released from prison, the first thing Collin had done was dig into the Bennetts’ recent history. That’s when he discovered that Kathrine Bennett was married to Daniel Clafford, the powerful businessman. His information was limited, but enough to start a plan — and Kira turned out to be the perfect tool.
Kira despised the Bennetts — more specifically, the daughter she blamed for her downfall. The way she spat the word "bitch" every time that name came up told Collin everything he needed to know.
"No doubt she hates her enough to help me," he said to himself, a dark grin spreading. "Befriending her was easier than I thought."
But what Collin didn’t realize was that Kira’s hatred was misplaced. The woman she resented wasn’t Kathrine Bennett — it was Anna.
And now, Anna Clafford unknowingly stood at the top of his hit list.
At the Film Set
Anna stepped out of the van beside Kevin, the early morning air crisp against her skin. The outdoor shoot had already gathered energy — lights positioned, cameras in place, and Director Wilsmith barking out last-minute orders.
She was ready... until she saw her.
"Big Sis, I think she’s glaring at you," Betty whispered, but Anna was already staring in disbelief.
Fiona Stewart stood near the monitors, wearing that same too-bright smile that never quite reached her eyes.
"Thank god the shoot’s started," Fiona said sweetly, gliding toward them. "I thought I’d miss my friend’s first scene."
Wilsmith blinked, visibly annoyed. "Miss Fiona," he said, his tone clipped, "weren’t you informed that your scenes start tomorrow?"
Even though Fiona was the female lead in his film, her habit of overstepping her role grated on him.
Fiona gave a light, musical laugh, pretending not to notice his displeasure. "I know, Director, but since it’s Anna’s first time in front of the camera, I thought I’d come and support her. You know—help her relax."
Anna’s lips curved slightly, her gaze steady and sharp.
"That’s very thoughtful, Fiona," she said, voice calm but cutting. "Though I’m sure Director Wilsmith knows how to prepare me for the scene."
Fiona’s smile twitched, faltering for just a second before she forced it back into place. The sweet tone remained, but her eyes flashed with irritation.
You think you’ve grown a spine, Anna? Let’s see how long that lasts.
"Oh, Anna," Fiona said softly as she stepped closer and wrapped her in a quick hug. Her words came out in a whisper that only Anna could hear.
"But dumb as always. You really think I came to support you? No, darling. I came to see how you’ll handle your first scene—when you step into that water."
Anna stiffened. Her breath caught.
Fiona’s smile widened just enough to twist the knife.
"I heard you’re terrified of deep water. How tragic that your debut begins with your character drowning."
She pulled back smoothly, the fake cheer never leaving her face.
Behind them, Wilsmith called out, "All right, everyone! Let’s get started!"
Fiona turned to him, her expression perfectly innocent, and walked off to the side, satisfaction glimmering in her eyes.
Anna stood rooted to the spot for a moment, her heartbeat drumming faster.
The first scene she was to film — Olive’s final one — was a death sequence. Her character, broken and weary, walked into the sea and let the waves take her under.
She’d known the script required her to step into shallow water, but Fiona’s taunt echoed in her mind like a warning.
She knows... about my fear.
Anna drew a slow breath, forcing her hands to stop trembling.
’No, not this time,’ she told herself. ’No one gets to make me look weak again.’
Just when Anna had steadied her mind, a familiar voice cut through the air.
"I hope I’m not late," Daniel said smoothly as he walked toward the group, his polished shoes crunching lightly against the gravel. Henry trailed behind him, a thick file clutched awkwardly in his hands, looking every bit like a man dragged straight out of a meeting.
Anna’s brows drew together. He looked completely out of place — still in his suit, crisp and commanding — and yet his presence somehow managed to steal every ounce of attention on set.
Did he seriously bring work to my shoot? she thought, watching him approach.
A shallow breath escaped her lips as she stepped closer, stopping beside Director Wilsmith. Her gaze locked with Daniel’s, sharp as a blade. His lips curved slightly, the softness in his eyes entirely at odds with the tension between them.
You asked for it, wifey, he thought, suppressing a smirk.
"Mr. Clafford," Wilsmith greeted, startled but smiling nonetheless. "What a pleasant surprise. I didn’t expect someone as busy as you to have time for a visit."
Daniel’s voice carried that effortless charm that could command any room. "How could I resist, Mr. Wilsmith? As I said before, I like to get to know the people I works with. And the best way to know them"—his gaze drifted briefly toward Anna—"is to be present."
Anna’s jaw tightened. Her lips twitched as she fought the urge to roll her eyes.
"Of course," she muttered under her breath. "How... considerate."
Before Wilsmith could respond, another voice chimed in, light and honeyed.
"That’s so kind of you, Mr. Clafford," Fiona said sweetly, stepping forward as if the set belonged to her. "It’s refreshing to see someone so involved. The last time we met, you seemed so serious—but now you’re much more approachable."
Daniel glanced her way, his expression polite but distant. He gave her a courteous nod and said nothing. The brief silence that followed made Fiona’s smile falter for just a second before she masked it again.
And then, as if the universe wanted to test everyone’s patience, Ethan arrived.
He walked toward them with that calm, composed demeanor of his — the kind that drew attention without effort. When his eyes met Anna’s, she instinctively relaxed, her shoulders easing slightly.
Daniel noticed.
"Ethan," Fiona purred, stepping closer to him, "are you here to cheer for Anna too?"
Ethan offered her a polite smile, his gaze flicking to Anna. "She’s got her first scene today. I thought I’d come by for support."
The word support landed heavy in the air. Daniel’s jaw flexed, his gaze shifting briefly to Ethan — cool, unreadable, but laced with something darker underneath.
Fiona, catching the subtle tension, smiled as if she enjoyed watching the scene unfold. "How sweet. Seems like Anna has quite the audience today."
There was something about Daniel that didn’t went unnoticed by Fiona and that was his interest in Anna and the way he looked at Ethan as if he was a competition.
Also one of the reason why she thought Daniel to be the one helping Anna in getting the role.
"Okay, now that everybody’s here..." Wilsmith clapped his hands once, scanning the set. "Anna, are you ready?"
As soon as his words left his mouth, Anna felt the heaviness press against her chest. Still, she nodded firmly. "Yes, Director."
Wilsmith smiled faintly and began explaining the scene — Olive’s surrender, her quiet decision to walk into the sea and let the pain consume her. Around them, the crew adjusted the lights and camera angles while Fiona, Daniel, Ethan, and a few others took their seats off to the side.
Once everything was set, Wilsmith gave a subtle nod toward the cameraman. "Roll camera and... action."
The quiet hum of the equipment faded behind the sound of the waves.
Anna took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a few seconds. Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to focus. She couldn’t afford to falter now — not in front of Fiona, not in front of Daniel, and definitely not in front of her own fears.
’You promised yourself,’ she reminded inwardly. No more letting fear win.
"This is for you, my baby," she whispered under her breath, her voice barely audible as the camera zoomed in.
Her fingers trembled slightly at the thought — the tiny heartbeat that once pulsed inside her, the life she had dreamed of protecting. Losing him had broken her in ways she’d never spoken about. And yet, today, she carried that memory like armor.
When she opened her eyes again, she was no longer Anna Clafford — she was Olive, the broken woman who had nothing left to give.
Her shoulders sagged, tears streaking down her face as she walked toward the water.
"She looks so natural," one of the crew members murmured, awed by her performance.
Wilsmith nodded quietly, his eyes glued to the monitor.
Off to the side, Fiona crossed her legs and smirked faintly. "Let’s see how long that confidence lasts," she muttered under her breath. She knew Anna’s fear of deep water ran deep — and soon, it would show.
Daniel sat rigid in his chair, eyes never leaving the screen. His chest tightened at the sight of her. Those tears, that hollow look — it wasn’t acting. Not entirely.
He’d never seen Anna cry like that. In fact, since their marriage, she had built her walls so high that even her pain was silent. But now, seeing it spill through her eyes felt like watching her heart break all over again.
’Why does it hurt to see her like this?’
He couldn’t tell where the performance ended and where her truth began.
Then, suddenly—
"Oh my god! Why is she going deeper?" a crew member’s voice cut through the silence, panic lacing the words leaving everyone alarmed.