Mason barged into Nicholas's office without knocking, the door slamming against the wall with a loud thud.
Anastasia, who had just risen from her seat, froze in shock.
Nicholas looked equally startled for a moment, but his expression quickly morphed into a smug grin as Mason strode toward him.
"What do you think you're doing calling her here?" Mason demanded.
Nicholas leaned back in his chair, the smirk on his face growing. Slowly, he stood, meeting Mason's fiery glare with a calm but defiant one.
"Isn't Anastasia the operational analyst? Last I checked, she's answerable to me too as the COO."
"Ugh," Mason scoffed with a frown. "If you need to summon her again, you inform me first."
"Really?" Nicholas raised an eyebrow, his tone laced with mockery.
"But this isn't the Mason I knew five years ago. Back then, you didn't mix personal matters with business. Seems like things have changed."
"Consider this your warning," Mason growled, his voice rising. "Stay out of my lane, or you'll regret it."
Nicholas chuckled darkly, shaking his head.
"If you can't handle your wife being in the company, maybe you should step down. She's more than welcome to stay since she's far more professional than you, anyway."
The words hit Mason hard, his fists clenching at his sides as he stepped closer.
"If anyone's leaving, it'll be you, Nicholas. Don't forget, you're the illegitimate one here."
The insult landed like a punch, Nicholas's smug demeanor faltering for a brief moment as his shoulder dropped.
Before he could respond, Mason turned sharply to Anastasia.
"Leave," he ordered.
Anastasia, caught in the storm, bowed slightly before walking out of the office, her heart beating fast.
As the door closed behind her, Mason leaned in closer to Nicholas, his tone deadly calm.
"This is the last time I'm warning you!"
Without waiting for a response, Mason stormed out of the office, leaving Nicholas standing there, his face dark with rage...
---
Anastasia stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for her floor, exhaling a shaky breath.
Just as the doors began to close, Mason's hand shot through the gap, forcing them open again.
Then he stepped in without a word.
Anastasia stared straight ahead, clutching her skirt tightly. Mason stood rigidly beside her, his gaze fixed on the elevator doors.
The ride was painfully silent until the elevator dinged open.
Mason strode out first, his long legs taking him directly to his office without so much as a glance at the staff who stared after him in confusion.
Anastasia followed, heading back to her desk. As soon as she sat down, Sandra and a few other colleagues swarmed around her.
"What happened?" Sandra asked, her eyes wide with curiosity. "We heard raised voices from the COO's office. Did you get caught in the crossfire?"
Anastasia shook her head, her voice calm. "Nothing happened."
"Nothing?" Sandra frowned. "Come on, Anastasia. Everyone knows how those two are when they clash. Spill it!"
Before Anastasia could respond, the chief clapped his hands sharply.
"Enough gossip! Back to work, all of you!"
Reluctantly, the group dispersed, and Anastasia was left alone at her desk. She stared at her screen, her mind swirling with thoughts.
'What is going on with Mason?' she wondered.
This wasn't the man she'd been married to for two years. He'd always been distant, detached, almost indifferent. Now, he was acting possessive, territorial...a side of him she had never seen before.
She shook her head, brushing the thoughts aside. There was no point in dwelling on it. Whatever was going on with Mason was his issue, not hers.
She turned her focus back to her work, determined to keep her head down and stay out of trouble...
***
The clock struck 5 PM, signaling the end of the workday.
The office buzzed with activity as everyone packed up their belongings, ready to head home. Anastasia reached for her bag, eager to leave, when Sandra appeared beside her, grinning mischievously.
"Where do you think you're going?" Sandra teased. "Don't tell me you've forgotten about the dinner."
Anastasia hesitated, searching for an excuse.
"I—actually, I was thinking—"
Before she could finish, Daniel walked into the office, his presence commanding immediate attention.
"The president has made a reservation for tonight's welcome dinner," Daniel announced. "Attendance is mandatory for all new recruits."
His eyes briefly locked onto Anastasia, making her shift uncomfortably.
Gasps filled the room as everyone exchanged shocked glances. This had never happened before.
"Did you hear that, Anastasia?!" Sandra exclaimed. "The president made the reservation himself! This is a first—you cannot miss this!"
After a moment of internal debate, Anastasia reluctantly nodded, and Sandra beamed triumphantly.
Soon, the group and all new recruits filed out of the building, with Daniel and the company driver transporting them to the venue.
When they arrived, their jaws dropped at the sight of the luxurious restaurant.
"This place is amazing!" Sandra whispered excitedly, grabbing Anastasia's arm. "Aren't you glad I convinced you to come?"
"I guess." Anastasia gave her a small smile.
They entered the restaurant, marveling at the elegant decor. After being guided to their one big table, they settled in, with Sandra on one side of Anastasia and George on the other.
The waitstaff began serving their meal, and the chatter grew lively. Just as they were about to dig in, the atmosphere shifted.
Mason entered the room, his presence silencing everyone. Everyone stared in shock, their heads bowing nervously as they greeted him.
Mason nodded in acknowledgment and strode to the table, his gaze briefly flickering to Anastasia before he sat directly across from her.
The room grew tense, with none of them touching their food.
Anastasia kept her focus on the plate in front of her, her expression calm and detached. Mason's piercing gaze lingered on her for a moment before he finally spoke.
"Relax everyone," he said, his tone firm yet oddly gentle. "Enjoy your meal."
"Thank you, sir!" Everyone chorused and exhaled in relief, the tension easing as they resumed eating.
After the meal, whiskey was served, and the atmosphere grew lighter as the alcohol flowed.
George, slightly tipsy, turned to Anastasia with a wide grin.
"You know Mrs Stones..." he began, his voice slurred but playful, "you're way too beautiful and young to be married already."
Anastasia blinked in surprise, unsure how to respond. She offered a polite smile and nodded.
Sandra laughed nervously, trying to steer the conversation, but George wasn't done.
"You should've enjoyed your single life a bit longer, like Sandra here."
Anastasia chuckled softly, brushing it off as harmless drunken talk. But when she swirled her head, her laughter faltered.
Mason's gaze was sharp, burning into her with unspoken fury.
George continued his rambling compliments, oblivious to the president's gaze towards him.
Anastasia shifted uncomfortably, her focus now entirely on Mason, who hadn't touched his drink.
Finally, the dinner ended, and the staff began to leave, most of them stumbling out in pairs. Anastasia stood by the entrance, waiting for her ride, when Mason appeared in front of her.
"You're riding with me," he said firmly, blocking her path before turning and walking toward his car.
Anastasia hesitated, debating whether to refuse, but something in his tone left no room for argument.
Reluctantly, she followed him and climbed into the car and they drove off.
When they arrived at home, Anastasia stepped out, eager to retreat to her room, but Mason's voice stopped her.
"Wait," he said, his tone low and biting.
She turned slowly, her heart sinking.
"You looked happy back there," he accused, his eyes narrowing. "When George was flirting with you."
Anastasia froze, her eyes widening in disbelief.
"Flirting?" she repeated, a bitter scoff escaping her lips. "He was drunk, Mason. Everyone could see that."
Mason stepped closer, his voice cold.
"That's not what I saw. You were laughing, enjoying it...just like you were with Nicholas."
At the mention of Nicholas, Anastasia's stomach churn.
"Ex...excuse me?" she asked, her voice trembling with restrained anger.
"You heard me," Mason replied coldly. "First Nicholas, now a coworker. How low can you go?"
The words hit her like a slap, her fists clenching as she fought back the tears threatening to spill.
Anastasia stared at him, fighting the urge to pounce on him when she finally raised her fingers, pulling out her wedding ring.
"Let's get a divorce!" she let out quietly...