The room seemed frozen in time as Nicholas strode inside, his dark eyes sweeping over the table with a sharp gaze.
He looked both rugged and refined, his suit a little looser than Mason's but no less expensive.
Evelyn's fork clattered softly against her plate, her expression one of pure shock.
"Nicholas," she breathed in a low voice, as though she had seen a ghost.
Mason's jaw tightened, his knuckles white against the edge of the table. Anastasia looked between the two brothers, her heart pounding in her chest.
The tension in the room had thickened to a suffocating degree, and she couldn't help but wonder what Nicholas's sudden return meant for the Harrington family.
Or for Mason.
And as Nicholas's gaze finally settled on Mason, a slow, knowing smile curved his lips.
"Miss me?" he drawled, though darker.
Mason didn't spare a glance at him as their grandfather gestured toward the empty chair opposite Mason.
"Sit, Nicholas," the old man said with a calm authority.
Nicholas complied, moving with the kind of casual grace that suggested he had all the time in the world.
As he settled into the chair, his sharp eyes finally landed on Anastasia, who sat quietly beside Mason.
His gaze darted to her left hand, where her wedding ring gleamed faintly in the warm light, then shifted to Mason's matching band.
A slow, amused smirk spread across Nicholas's face.
"So, Mason got married?" His voice carried a mocking edge. "And didn't think to invite his dear brother to the wedding?"
Mason finally looked at him. "There was no need for your presence." he retorted.
Nicholas let out a scoff, shaking his head.
"No need? Ouch. That stings, brother."
Then, as if he hadn't just thrown verbal jabs, Nicholas turned his attention back to Anastasia, his demeanor softened.
"So, you're the new Mrs. Harrington," Nicholas said, his tone took on a friendly warmth but filled with curiosity.
His eyes lingered on her, taking in her unease. "How's my brother treating you?"
Anastasia hesitated for a fraction of a second, feeling Mason's gaze bore into her.
"Fine," she replied politely, and then quickly looked away, pretending to adjust her napkin on her lap.
Nicholas's shook his head in awe, but before he could say more, their grandfather cut through the tense atmosphere.
"Let's eat. The food will get cold."
The table shifted into an uneasy silence as everyone began to eat. Anastasia picked at her plate, unable to muster an appetite.
The glares, whispers, and tension left her feeling suffocated.
Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for her glass of water, only for her elbow to accidentally nudge the glass of wine in front of her.
The red liquid spilled, splashing onto her dress.
Gasps echoed around the table, and Anastasia froze, her face heating with embarrassment.
"Clumsy," Lena muttered, her disdainful tone loud enough for everyone to hear.
Claire joined in with a sneer. "Doesn't even know how to hold a glass properly."
Before their words could cut deeper, the grandfather's sharp voice sliced through. "That's enough, both of you!"
The room fell silent again, but the damage was done. Anastasia stood abruptly, forcing a tight smile.
"I'm sorry... Excuse me," she murmured, as she left the table to clean up.
As soon as she disappeared, Nicholas placed his napkin on the table and stood.
"I'll be back," he said casually, not waiting for a response as he followed the direction Anastasia had gone.
---
Anastasia stepped out of the restroom, patting at her dress with damp tissue when she suddenly stopped short as she saw Nicholas standing there, holding a towel.
Her eyes widened in shock. "Oh, um…"
"You okay?" Nicholas asked, his tone gentle as he extended the towel to her.
"I'm fine. Thank you." She nodded, taking it hesitantly. As she turned to leave, Nicholas shifted, blocking her path.
She blinked, her breath hitching as she stammered, "W-What's going on?"
Nicholas tilted his head, his smile soft but probing.
"You seemed… uncomfortable at the table. Especially around Mason."
Her heart dropped at his words, but before she could respond, a familiar presence loomed behind her.
Mason.
His footsteps were purposeful, his face a mask of cold fury as he strode toward them. Without hesitation, he stepped between Anastasia and Nicholas, his tall frame exuding authority and menace.
"What do you think you're doing?" Mason questioned.
Nicholas leaned back slightly, unbothered by his brother's tone.
"Just having a friendly chat with your wife," he replied smoothly, his grin widening. "Is that a problem?"
"Yes, it is!" Mason's icy glare fixed on him. "If you have anything to say, you say it to me. Stay away from her."
Nicholas raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin turning wicked. "Relax, Mason. No harm done."
Mason ignored him and turned to Anastasia, his gaze still intense. "Let's go."
Before she could react, he grabbed her wrist. The sudden contact sent a jolt through her.
Anastasia froze, her mind reeling. In two years of marriage, this was the first time Mason had ever willingly touched her.
He didn't notice...or didn't care...as he pulled her along, leaving Nicholas standing in the hallway, his mischievous smirk plastered on his face.
As they moved out of Nicholas's sight, Mason finally realized he was still holding Anastasia's wrist, then he instantly yanked his hand away as if burned.
"Don't talk to Nicholas again!" he commanded.
Anastasia stopped in her tracks, her gaze snapping to him.
"Why?" she asked with a defiance Mason had never seen in her before.
Her question caught him off guard, and for a brief moment, his expression faltered. But he quickly masked it.
"Because I said so," he replied authoritatively. "If I tell you not to do something, you don't question it. You just abide by it!"
"Ugh!" Anastasia let out a dry, bitter scoff—a sound Mason had never heard from her before. Her glare, sharp and unyielding, met his icy stare.
"I'll talk to whoever I want, Mason,"she shot back, her voice trembling slightly but filled with conviction. "You don't get to control every part of my life. Not anymore."
The words, her tone, the defiance, it all struck Mason like a blow to the chest.
Before he could form a response, Anastasia turned on her heel and walked away from his presence, her posture rigid with suppressed anger.
He stood there, stunned, watching her retreating figure. For the first time since their marriage, Anastasia had stood up to him.
She had always been meek, reserved, and careful around him...almost invisible.
'Was this defiance because of Nicholas? Or had something been brewing in her all along, unnoticed by me?' he thought, clenching his fists as he trailed behind her...
Anastasia was the first to return to the dining table. Grandpa's sharp eyes softened as they landed on her.
"Are you alright, my dear?" his tone warm.
"Yes, Grandpa," she replied quietly, forcing a small smile as she resumed her seat.
In a few seconds, Mason strode back in, followed closely by Nicholas, who wore his signature smirk.
As they all settled, the dining staff served dessert, but the tension at the table didn't ease.
Anastasia's face had returned to its usual calm and reserved demeanor, baffling Mason, though he kept his thoughts to himself.
Grandpa suddenly cleared his throat, commanding everyone's attention.
"Nicholas will be rejoining the company as the COO," Grandpa announced, his tone brooking no argument.
"The board and I believe that with both my grandsons at the helm, the company will be stronger than ever. And, Mason will remain as president."
The words dropped like a bomb. Gasps rippled across the table, and Mason's face darkened immediately.
"That's not possible!" Mason interjected, and all eyes turned to him.
"Nicholas has been gone for five years. He can't just return and pick up where he left off. It's not a good decision for the company."
Before Grandpa could respond, Nicholas leaned back in his chair, his lips curved into a sly smile.
"Wasn't that my position before I left?" he asked smoothly, tilting his head.
"It doesn't matter," Mason shot back, his voice growing colder. "You left. You've been gone too long. There's no place for you in the company anymore."
Evelyn, sitting stiffly across the table, looked outwardly composed, but her fingers clenched her napkin tightly.
She had spent years ensuring Nicholas's absence would remain permanent, yet here he was, threatening the balance she had fought to maintain.
The fact that Nicholas, the illegitimate son, was being brought back was like salt on her old wound.
Grandpa raised a hand, silencing the brewing argument. His gaze shifted to Mason, firm and unyielding.
"This is final, Mason... Nicholas starts tomorrow. That's the end of the discussion."
Mason scoffed, his entire body taut with restrained fury. Abruptly, he pushed back his chair and stood.
"Anastasia, get up. We're leaving," he ordered.
Anastasia quickly rose, offering a polite nod to Grandpa before following Mason out.
"Mason! Son!" Evelyn called after him, her voice laced with concern. But he didn't stop or look back.
The door slammed behind them as they left, leaving a heavy silence at the table. Nicholas reached for his glass of wine, and swirled the liquid.
"Well," he said, raising the glass toward Grandpa. "Here's to an interesting tomorrow at the company!"