Rebirth: The New Bride Wants A Divorce-Chapter 480: But you won’t rip my clothes apart here

"Maybe I should have a dance with my beautiful wife."

Daniel set his wine glass aside and stood, extending his hand toward Anna as though the invitation was the most natural thing in the world.

For a second, hesitation flickered across her face.

She glanced around instinctively—at the swirling gowns, confident laughter, couples already lost in the rhythm of the music. The ballroom lights shimmered against polished floors, catching every movement. Eyes were everywhere. Cameras might not be flashing anymore, but people were still watching.

"I can’t dance," she whispered quickly, leaning closer so only he could hear. There was a faint edge to her voice, something vulnerable she rarely allowed out.

Dancing had always been one of those quiet insecurities she carried from childhood. Growing up under scrutiny, she had learned to sit straight, speak properly, smile at the right moments. But dance? Dance required letting go. And she had never been taught how to do that.

Daniel didn’t laugh. Didn’t tease.

He simply held her gaze.

"Then let me guide you," he said softly.

Not commanding. Not persuasive.

Just certain.

Something in his tone steadied her.

She looked at his hand again—strong, open, waiting—and slowly placed hers in it.

The moment their fingers intertwined, the nervous flutter in her chest eased just a little.

Together, they walked toward the center of the ballroom, where couples were already swaying beneath the chandelier light. The music had shifted into something slower now, intimate and smooth.

To their left, Betty and Shawn were dancing close—her laughter bright as she whispered something that made him shake his head fondly.

On their right, Ethan and Kathrine were completely immersed in the song, foreheads nearly touching as if the rest of the world had dissolved.

"They’re being so obvious," Anna murmured, unable to stop the smile tugging at her lips as she watched Ethan pull Kathrine closer, uncaring of who saw.

Daniel chuckled softly.

He stepped closer to Anna, one hand settling at her waist, warm and firm. His other hand tightened gently around hers as he guided her into the rhythm.

"We’re worse," he muttered near her ear.

She felt his breath brush against her skin as he nuzzled lightly against the side of her face.

A soft laugh escaped her before she could stop it.

He was right.

All night, Daniel hadn’t hidden his affection. He had held her hand openly, looked at her like she was the only person in the room, spoken her name with pride. Every touch, every glance, had been deliberate. Not for show.

For her.

For the world to see.

The rumors, the whispers, the speculation—they hadn’t stood a chance against the quiet certainty in his actions.

Anna felt his hand guide her gently into a slow turn. She stumbled just slightly, but he caught her effortlessly, pulling her back into him.

"See?" he murmured. "You’re doing fine."

She exhaled, her hand resting against his shoulder now. "That’s because you’re doing all the work."

"I don’t mind."

His voice held something deeper.

As they moved together, the music fading into the background, Daniel pulled back just enough to look at her fully.

The lights caught in her eyes, soft but bright.

"You were perfect tonight," he said.

Not casual. Not exaggerated.

Certain.

She blinked, surprised by the intensity in his expression.

Daniel had always known Anna as disciplined, driven. She didn’t approach her work carelessly. She studied it. Lived inside it. Molded herself into roles until they fit like second skin.

But tonight, watching her on that screen—

He had seen more.

He had seen her vulnerability woven into every scene. The subtle tremor in her voice. The quiet strength in her silences. The way she carried pain without dramatizing it.

She hadn’t just performed.

She had felt it.

"And not just as an actress," he continued, his thumb brushing lightly against her waist. "You made them believe you. That’s rare."

Anna swallowed, emotion rising unexpectedly in her chest.

"Daniel..."

"I’m proud of you," he finished quietly.

The words settled between them, heavier than applause.

For a moment, the ballroom disappeared.

There was only the steady rhythm of the music, his hand at her waist, and the warmth in his eyes.

And for the first time that night, Anna allowed herself to feel it fully— Not the success. Not the validation. But the pride reflected back at her by the man who stood beside her.

Meanwhile, a few feet away, Ethan and Kathrine swayed to the music—but there was nothing slow or innocent about the way he was looking at her.

The lights shimmered across her dress, the fabric hugging her in a way that made his restraint thin at best.

He leaned closer, his hand firm at her waist, voice low enough that only she could hear.

"You look ravishing, babe," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "My urge to rip that dress apart and take you home right now is... insane."

Kathrine’s eyes lifted to meet his.

Instead of shock, a mischievous smile curved slowly across her lips. She knew that look in his eyes. The hunger. The impatience barely masked by charm.

"Oh?" she teased softly, sliding her fingers up his lapel. "Then maybe we should head home."

The spark in his gaze darkened instantly.

She had just added fuel to something already burning.

Ethan didn’t hesitate. Not even for show.

"Don’t tempt me," he muttered, though he was already moving.

His fingers intertwined with hers, grip confident and decisive as he guided her off the dance floor. There was no dramatic announcement, no goodbye tour—just quiet urgency.

Kathrine barely suppressed a laugh as she kept up with his pace. "You’re terrible at pretending patience."

"Patience is overrated," he shot back, glancing at her with a grin that promised trouble.

Across the room, Betty noticed first.

"Where are they going?" she asked, eyebrows lifting as she watched Ethan practically escort Kathrine toward the exit.

There was something very deliberate about the way he held her hand.

Shawn followed her line of sight calmly. His gaze lingered for a second before he gave a knowing hum.

"Maybe they’re done," he said simply, returning his attention to Betty as if it wasn’t worth further analysis.

Betty narrowed her eyes slightly. "Done?"

"With the party," he clarified dryly.

But there was amusement in his tone.

Betty glanced around, suddenly aware of the thinning crowd. A few other couples were also slipping away quietly, laughter trailing behind them as they exited. The music still played, but the energy had shifted—less spectacle, more intimacy.

She had thought they were the only ones lingering.

The only ones reluctant to leave the glow of the celebration.

But as she looked around, she realized the night was winding down for everyone in their own way.

"But everyone is still here?" Betty asked innocently, glancing around the ballroom as if counting heads might prove her point.

Shawn didn’t answer immediately.

He looked at her.

Not casually. Not distracted.

He actually looked at her—at the wide curiosity in her eyes, the way her brows knitted in genuine confusion.

The intensity of his gaze made her shift slightly.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" she asked cautiously. "Did I say something wrong?"

He shook his head slowly, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"No," he said. "You didn’t."

There was something in his voice now—lower, deeper.

"Do you want to know why they left?" he asked, his tone smooth as the late-night air drifting in from the open terrace doors.

Betty paused.

Her eyes flickered toward the exit where Ethan had practically marched Kathrine out seconds ago.

She thought for a moment.

Then she nodded.

Shawn’s smile widened just a little.

"Come on," he murmured.

He took her hand and led her away from the dance floor, weaving through the thinning crowd until they stepped out into the cool night air of the parking area.

The distant hum of music still floated from inside the ballroom.

And then—

They saw them.

Betty froze.

A few cars away, Ethan had Kathrine pressed gently—very gently—against his car. But there was nothing gentle about the way he was kissing her.

It wasn’t casual. It wasn’t shy.

It was hungry.

His hand traced along her waist, pulling her closer as if the world around them had ceased to exist. Kathrine’s fingers were tangled in his hair, completely unbothered by being seen.

Betty’s eyes widened so fast they almost watered.

"Oh my innocent eyes—" she gasped, instantly squeezing them shut and turning sharply away. "I did not sign up for this."

Shawn chuckled softly behind her.

"Now you know why they left," he said, clearly amused by her scandalized reaction.

Betty shook her head vigorously, grabbing his arm and dragging him in the opposite direction.

"I don’t want to hear anything either," she muttered under her breath. "If I hear one weird sound, I’m never recovering."

Shawn laughed quietly as she marched them further away, her grip tight around his wrist.

She was flustered. Completely unprepared.

She had seen affection before—but this? This was something else. Something charged. Something she didn’t quite understand but definitely felt the intensity of.

When they were finally at what she considered a "safe" distance, she stopped abruptly.

Shawn used that momentum to gently pull her closer instead.

Her breath hitched when she suddenly found herself pressed against his chest.

His hands settled at her waist—not possessive, but firm enough that she felt it.

Felt him.

Her heart began to beat faster, and she wasn’t entirely sure why.

He lowered his head slightly, his voice softer now, no teasing edge.

"Do you want to experience it?" he asked.

Betty stared at him, eyes wide, still trying to process what he had just asked.

For a moment, words completely abandoned her.

Shawn had always been gentle with her. Careful. Measured. Even when he held her close, there had been restraint in him—an unspoken promise that he would never rush her, never overwhelm her.

But right now?

There was something different in his gaze.

Not reckless.

Not wild.

Just... unveiled.

And that shift made something flutter low in her stomach.

She had grown used to his tenderness. The slow brushes of his fingers. The soft kisses on her forehead. The way he always paused to check if she was comfortable.

But seeing him ask for something she had never experienced before—seeing that quiet hunger beneath his usual calm—didn’t scare her.

It intrigued her.

Made her curious.

Her lips parted slightly as she searched his face.

"But you won’t rip my clothes apart here," she said finally, her voice a mix of caution and shy teasing.

For half a second, his expression stilled. Then a slow smile curved across his face—understanding exactly what she was doing.