CHAPTER 258: ARE YOU SURE YOU AREN’T HIDING ANYTHING

"Goodness, I didn’t even realize I burned the steak to the point I can’t recognize it," Anna sighed, staring at the poor, charred piece of meat resting lifelessly on the plate. She nudged it away with a defeated pout.

Daniel chuckled softly. His wife had finally admitted the truth—that the food was beyond saving and definitely beyond eating.

But then he noticed her narrowing her eyes at him.

"What?" he asked, sliding the beautifully arranged plate toward her—perfectly cooked steak and pasta, garnished so elegantly it could’ve belonged on a restaurant menu.

"You never told me you can cook?" Anna questioned, her eyes widening in disbelief. The plate looked like artwork, stealing her breath for a brief second before suspicion settled back in. She squinted at him as if he had fooled her this whole time.

"You never asked me," Daniel replied with a casual shrug, resting his elbow on the table and propping his chin on his knuckles. A slow smile curved across his lips, clearly enjoying her reaction.

Anna blinked, still absorbing the shock. She couldn’t recall a single time he’d stepped foot into the kitchen—he was hardly home, and when he was, he locked himself up in his room. So when he volunteered to cook today, she hadn’t expected... this.

Not the precision. Not the skill. And definitely not the mouthwatering aroma drifting from the plate.

Compared to his dish, her efforts felt embarrassingly amateur.

No wonder he always avoided tasting what I made, she thought, a dramatic sigh echoing in her mind. It’s awful next to this.

"Here, eat it." Anna quickly twirled the pasta around the fork and held it up to his lips.

Daniel’s smile softened, and he leaned forward, accepting the bite without hesitation.

"You shouldn’t skip your meals, Daniel. Not after you just recovered from a fever," she scolded gently, lifting another spoonful toward him.

A pang of guilt tugged at her. She regretted letting her desire take over earlier, forgetting he hadn’t eaten all day. When she noticed his dizziness—not once, but twice—her heart had dropped. She knew she had to stop, even if her body screamed otherwise.

Thank goodness there were no servants around to witness her losing control in the kitchen. The embarrassment would have swallowed her whole.

"Is this your way of saying you care for me?" Daniel asked, his eyes lingering on her face with lazy warmth.

Anna froze, shooting him an immediate glare.

Was she worried for him?

The thought unsettled her more than she expected.

He smirked at her silence. "Your silence means it’s a yes."

Her mouth fell open in disbelief, but no words—no denial—came out.

Daniel chuckled, scooping up a bite and lifting it to her lips this time. "Here. You should eat too. I want my wife to have plenty of stamina."

Anna blinked at him, trying to decipher the tone behind his words. He was teasing... but not entirely. Not with that look in his eyes. She suddenly wasn’t sure if she was ready. She had given him the green signal earlier, but now her heart thudded nervously.

Letting him in—truly letting him in—scared her.

Not just the intimacy.

Not just the possibility of being with him.

But what it might lead to.

She wasn’t ready to risk getting pregnant again. Losing her child once had carved a wound so deep she was still trying to breathe past it. The thought of facing that pain again terrified her. She needed time—time to heal, time to trust, time to steady her heart.

She pressed her lips into a thin line and finally took the bite he offered, though her eyes remained clouded.

Daniel noticed it instantly.

For all his teasing, he wasn’t blind to her shifting emotions. He saw the uncertainty, the fear she tried to hide behind stubborn silence. And though it stung to feel her hesitation, he wouldn’t push her. Not now, not when she was clearly wrestling with something heavy.

He wanted to be transparent, to prove he wasn’t going anywhere, that whatever he felt for her was real. But beneath that honesty lived a quiet fear—a fear of what loving her might cost him, and what losing her could destroy inside him.

For a moment, their eyes met over the shared plate—his filled with patience, hers with unspoken worry—and the kitchen fell into a comforting, fragile stillness.

***

Meanwhile, Roseline had finally taken discharge from the hospital and was brought back home. She had been advised to stay two more days under observation, but she insisted—almost pleaded—with Hugo to take her home. The hospital no longer felt safe; if anything, every shadow in that sterile room felt like a threat waiting to pounce.

Hugo understood. Her tremors, her restless eyes, the way she kept glancing toward the door as if expecting someone to barge in—it told him everything. He didn’t argue. He simply agreed, brought her home, and immediately arranged for a trusted staff member to look after her at all times.

"Thank you," she whispered, her fingers curling weakly around his hand. Her smile was soft, fragile.

She knew Hugo would never refuse her—not when she confided her fear of being alone in the hospital. Not after someone had already tried to harm her once. Even with police stationed at her door and Kathrine checking on her regularly, Roseline still felt unsettled. Vulnerable.

What if Collin tried again? What if this time... he succeeded?

The thought alone made her shudder.

Roseline had eventually confirmed that the police had been guarding her ward the entire time—yet Collin still managed to slip inside, disguised as one of the hospital staff. He had walked right past the officers, fooling them without raising the slightest suspicion.

"Roseline, are you sure you aren’t hiding anything from me?" Hugo’s voice cut through her drifting thoughts, pulling her back into the moment.

She blinked, startled. His tone wasn’t harsh, but it carried a weight—concern wrapped in suspicion.

Even though it was officially confirmed that Kira had attacked her, Hugo wasn’t blind. He couldn’t ignore what Frederick had said during the board meeting. And trusting Ester’s account alone—while she was shaken and traumatized—felt reckless.

"W–why would you ask me that? I’m not hiding anything," Roseline stammered, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

With Collin released, neither of them could rest easy. But the idea that he had no involvement in harming Roseline? That didn’t sit right with Hugo at all.

Especially not when Roseline had been acting strangely since the attack—jumpy, distracted, guarded.

"Are you absolutely sure you had no connection with that girl named Kira?" he pressed, searching her face for the smallest crack.

Roseline swallowed and shook her head firmly.

Hugo exhaled a long breath. None of this made sense. Roseline had no reason to offend Kira, no history, no link between them—yet Kira had nearly killed her. The pieces refused to fit.