Chapter 130: Your safety is my priority "I was worried," she said quickly, slipping into her usual act. "After what happened with Anna, I thought you might need someone to talk to. You looked so tense earlier."
Ethan’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t even blink.
"I appreciate the concern," he said quietly, "but I’m fine."
Fiona tried again, flashing a charming smile. "You know, it’s such a shame about Anna. I had no idea she couldn’t swim. If I’d known, I would’ve stopped her before she walked into the water."
His gaze sharpened immediately.
"You didn’t know?" he asked, voice deceptively calm.
Fiona froze, a flicker of panic crossing her face. "Of course not. How could I?"
. Ethan took a slow step closer, his eyes narrowing as if dissecting every word she spoke. "Because from what I heard," he said, his tone dropping a degree colder, "you’ve been Anna’s friend for years. Her best friend, wasn’t that what you called yourself?"
Fiona’s smile stiffened. "Y-yes, but—"
"Then I suppose it’s strange," he continued, cutting her off, "that you’d forget something as simple as your best friend’s fear of water."
The silence between them stretched.
Fiona swallowed, struggling to mask her unease. "Ethan, you’re misunderstanding me. I would never let something bad happen to her."
"Right," he said softly, though the flicker of disbelief in his eyes was impossible to miss.
Fiona forced a laugh, desperate to steer the conversation back. "Anyway, I just saw your scene. As usual you were perfect"
But when Ethan did said anything she continued. "Director Wilsmith seemed very impressed. Even I couldn’t help but admire-"
"Don’t tell me you are taking my mother’s words seriosly" Ethan suddenly spoke stopping Fiona midway.
Her expression changed, but when she noticed Ethan’s cold eyes, she gulped.
"W-what are you talking about-"
"Listen Fiona, I know my mother can be over friendly, but don’t bother to take her words seriously because I am not interested in you"
Fiona felt like someone slapped right through her face. If one rejection wasn’t enough, even Ethan came straight away declining her.
She balled her fist tightly one the side and watched Ethan step inside while she stood there reeling through his rejection.
’Anna Bennett, this is all happening because of you’ her eyes seethed with rage as she stared at the close door where Ethan entered before storming away.
[Bennett Mansion] It had been several days since the transaction, yet there was still no call — no threat — from Collin. For a brief moment, Rosiline allowed herself to feel relieved. But deep down, she knew better. Silence from a man like Collin wasn’t safety. It was a warning. Pacing the length of her study, she kept glancing at her phone every few seconds, her pulse quickening each time the screen stayed dark. Finally, after what felt like hours, the device vibrated in her hand. The name flashing across the screen made her exhale shakily — her hired informer. She didn’t waste a second. "Did you find anything?" she asked, voice trembling with urgency. "Mrs. Bennett," the man began, "there wasn’t much I could retrieve apart from one sighting. He was seen in the city — at Retro Bar — a day after his release." Rosiline’s heart sank. "You mean to say—" "Yes, ma’am," the man interrupted grimly. "Collin is in the same city. But after that night, there’s been no trace of him. It’s like he vanished." Her fingers gripped the phone tighter, knuckles turning white. The news hit her like a blade, slicing through the thin veil of calm she had tried to maintain. Each breath grew heavier than the last. "Don’t stop looking for him," she ordered, her voice low but firm. "I want to know exactly where he is and who he’s been in contact with. No matter how long it takes." There was a short pause before the man replied, "Understood, Mrs. Bennett. I’ll keep you informed." As the call ended, Rosiline stood motionless, the weight of dread sinking deep into her chest. Before he gets closer to Anna. She didn’t voice the thought aloud, but it echoed relentlessly inside her mind. For years, she had kept tabs on Collin — through prison officials, through quiet payments, through fear. The man had once been destined for death row, until the system decided his "good behavior" had earned him a reduced sentence. A mistake. A dangerous mistake. Now, he was free — and she had no idea what he wanted, or who he was after. Her gaze fell to the family portrait hanging on the wall — Hugo’s prideful smile, her own carefully composed one, and between them, two girls who had no idea how much darkness had built their world. Rosiline’s lips parted in a whisper. "Not again. I won’t let him destroy everything we’ve built." But as she sank into the armchair, her reflection in the glass stared back at her — pale, anxious, and cornered. Because deep down, she knew that some secrets didn’t stay buried. And Collin was one of them.
By the time Anna returned home, exhaustion had already settled deep in her bones. After apologizing to Director Wilsmith and reviewing her shot, she realized how much emotion she’d poured into it — perhaps too much. Though it was acting, the grief she’d channeled had come straight from her own buried pain — from the child she had lost in her past life. "I’m just glad Wilsmith didn’t scold me," she muttered, tossing her bag aside as she collapsed on the bed. "Otherwise, the word stupid would’ve been permanently stamped on my forehead."
[Bennett Mansion] It had been several days since the transaction, yet there was still no call — no threat — from Collin. For a brief moment, Rosiline allowed herself to feel relieved. But deep down, she knew better. Silence from a man like Collin wasn’t safety. It was a warning. Pacing the length of her study, she kept glancing at her phone every few seconds, her pulse quickening each time the screen stayed dark. Finally, after what felt like hours, the device vibrated in her hand. The name flashing across the screen made her exhale shakily — her hired informer. She didn’t waste a second. "Did you find anything?" she asked, voice trembling with urgency. "Mrs. Bennett," the man began, "there wasn’t much I could retrieve apart from one sighting. He was seen in the city — at Retro Bar — a day after his release." Rosiline’s heart sank. "You mean to say—" "Yes, ma’am," the man interrupted grimly. "Collin is in the same city. But after that night, there’s been no trace of him. It’s like he vanished." Her fingers gripped the phone tighter, knuckles turning white. The news hit her like a blade, slicing through the thin veil of calm she had tried to maintain. Each breath grew heavier than the last. "Don’t stop looking for him," she ordered, her voice low but firm. "I want to know exactly where he is and who he’s been in contact with. No matter how long it takes." There was a short pause before the man replied, "Understood, Mrs. Bennett. I’ll keep you informed." As the call ended, Rosiline stood motionless, the weight of dread sinking deep into her chest. Before he gets closer to Anna. She didn’t voice the thought aloud, but it echoed relentlessly inside her mind. For years, she had kept tabs on Collin — through prison officials, through quiet payments, through fear. The man had once been destined for death row, until the system decided his "good behavior" had earned him a reduced sentence. A mistake. A dangerous mistake. Now, he was free — and she had no idea what he wanted, or who he was after. Her gaze fell to the family portrait hanging on the wall — Hugo’s prideful smile, her own carefully composed one, and between them, two girls who had no idea how much darkness had built their world. Rosiline’s lips parted in a whisper. "Not again. I won’t let him destroy everything we’ve built." But as she sank into the armchair, her reflection in the glass stared back at her — pale, anxious, and cornered. Because deep down, she knew that some secrets didn’t stay buried. And Collin was one of them.
By the time Anna returned home, exhaustion had already settled deep in her bones. After apologizing to Director Wilsmith and reviewing her shot, she realized how much emotion she’d poured into it — perhaps too much. Though it was acting, the grief she’d channeled had come straight from her own buried pain — from the child she had lost in her past life. "I’m just glad Wilsmith didn’t scold me," she muttered, tossing her bag aside as she collapsed on the bed. "Otherwise, the word stupid would’ve been permanently stamped on my forehead."
A tired sigh escaped her lips as she sprawled across the soft mattress, her arms spread wide. It had been only one scene, and yet she felt utterly drained.
Still, being home — surrounded by quiet and the familiar scent of her lavender sheets — brought a comfort she didn’t realize she’d missed.
Her eyes had just started to flutter shut when—
BUZZ.
The vibration cut through the silence, making her groan.
"Ugh, who now?" she grumbled, fumbling for her phone in her pocket.
But the moment her eyes caught the name flashing on the screen, her body stiffened.
’New message from DarkKnight_07.’
Her drowsiness vanished in an instant.
Pushing herself up, Anna stared at the notification, a frown creasing her forehead. She didn’t waste a second before unlocking her phone.
DarkKnight_07: I heard you almost lost your life while delivering a powerful scene today.
Her lips parted. "What—?"
For a long moment, Anna simply stared at the screen, her pulse quickening.
How does he know that?
The drowning scene had been tightly controlled. Only the crew and a few others were present — not even the press knew the details yet.
She typed quickly, her fingers trembling slightly.
Anna: How do you know that?
Her heart thudded as she waited. Seconds stretched painfully then—
Ting.
Another message popped up.
DarkKnight_07: That’s a secret. But let me ask you one thing — what had gotten into you, huh?
Anna froze.
There it was again that casual tone, as if he knew her personally. Like someone who had been watching her.
Her gaze darted across the room, unease crawling down her spine.
’He knows too much...’
She swallowed hard, trying to calm her nerves. ’Could it be someone from the set? Someone who saw what happened?’
But the thought didn’t sit right.
’No... this is different.’
He didn’t just know — he was monitoring her. And that meant only one thing.
"Is he... someone connected to Fiona?" she whispered to herself, her mind spinning.
That was the only explanation that made sense. Fiona was manipulative enough to do something like this plant someone to torment her.
Anna’s jaw tightened as she typed back, her frustration bleeding through her words.
"You seem to have your eye on me," Anna typed, her fingers flying across the screen. "May I ask you why?"
It didn’t take long for the reply to come.
DarkKnight_07: That’s because you intrigue me, Anna. You’re not the kind of person you pretend to be. You’re something more.
Anna blinked, her brows knitting.
"Hah! What’s that even supposed to mean?" she muttered under her breath, scowling at the glowing screen. "Do I look like an alien to him?"
Her irritation flared as she quickly typed back:
Anna: That doesn’t concern you, mister.
His reply came faster this time.
DarkKnight_07: It does concern me. Since I’m your fan, your safety is my priority.
Anna froze.
Her lips parted in disbelief as she reread the message — twice, just to make sure she hadn’t imagined it.
"...My safety?" she murmured, narrowing her eyes.
’Was this guy for real?’
She’d seen overzealous fans before, people who sent endless messages, wrote cheesy declarations, and built imaginary relationships in their heads. But this one... this one felt different.
There was something unnervingly personal in his tone, like he wasn’t just watching her career.
He was watching her.
Anna groaned, tossing her phone onto the bed and running both hands through her hair.
"Great. Just what I needed — a fan who thinks he’s my personal bodyguard," she muttered, glaring at the device as if it had personally offended her. "What’s next? Is he going to track my sleep schedule?"
Still, curiosity tugged at her. Against her better judgment, she picked up the phone again, staring at the chat window.
He hadn’t sent another message.
The typing bubble was gone. The chat was silent.
Anna sighed, tossing the phone aside once more — though this time, she couldn’t quite shake the chill crawling up her spine.
Because for some reason... it didn’t feel like a random fan behind those words.
It felt like someone who knew her.