In the polished corner office of the Public Relations department, Vivian Stark was reviewing the upcoming press release schedule when her door slammed open.
Her assistant rushed in, out of breath, her face pale.
"Miss Stark..." the assistant stammered, gripping the doorframe. "You... you need to know what’s happening on the marketing floor right now."
Vivian raised an eyebrow, setting down her pen with cool indifference. "If it’s about the Q3 budget revisions, I told them..."
"It’s about Anastasia Vance," the assistant interrupted frantically. "She just walked into the building. She’s wearing a massive diamond ring... and she just announced to the whole team that Mr. Sterling proposed to her!"
Vivian went completely still. The color drained from her face, replaced by a sudden, violent wave of rage.
"What did you just say?" Vivian’s voice dropped into a lethal whisper.
"They’re getting remarried, Miss Stark," the assistant swallowed hard. "She said it was private, but everyone down there is celebrating."
Vivian’s hand clenched into a tight fist, her manicured nails digging deep into her palm until it hurt. Her father, Harrison Stark, was one of the single most influential shareholders in Sterling Global.
That was the only reason Damian had granted her the head of PR position in the first place... a strategic peace offering to keep her father’s powerful voting block aligned. She had spent years building her leverage, waiting for the right moment to claim Damian as her own.
And now, a disgraced, bankrupt Vance girl was walking back in and taking her place with a single ring.
No. Vivian’s dark eyes burned with ruthless desperation. Things were spiraling out of control way too fast. If Damian formally locked Anastasia into another marriage, her leverage... and her father’s... would be completely shattered.
She needed to drag Anastasia back down into the mud. Even if she had to get her own hands filthy to do it.
_________________________
Meanwhile, down the hall, Ana couldn’t breathe.
Clara’s sharp, concerned question was still hanging heavy in the air when Ana pulled her hand back, her chest violently heaving.
"I... I just need to wash my face," Ana choked out, stepping around Clara and fleeing straight toward the executive washroom.
She shoved the door open, ran to the marble sinks, and gripped the edge of the counter. She stared into the mirror, her eyes bloodshot, her pulse racing wildly as she looked down at the blinding diamond on her finger.
The suffocating weight of Damian’s control, the coldness from Marcus, the forced lies she had just fed her colleagues, and the ghost of her past were crashing down on her all at once.
She turned on the faucet, splashing cold water against her face, trying desperately to stop the breakdown.
The heavy wooden door of the washroom clicked shut.
Ana looked up in the mirror. Vivian Stark was standing right behind her, locking the washroom door from the inside with a sharp, echoing clack. "What are you doing here?"
"Re-married?" Vivian scoffed, her lips twisting into a cruel, venomous sneer as she slowly strolled toward Ana. "Is that the pathetic little story you told the interns down there, Anastasia?"
Ana turned around slowly, wiping the water from her face, her eyes narrowing. "Get out of my way, Vivian."
"Oh, please. We both know Damian doesn’t love you," Vivian purred, stepping right into Ana’s space, her eyes flashing with pure malice. "You’re just a glorified pet to him. He is just using you for revenge. A little, broken souvenir he reclaimed to remind himself that he owns you."
"I said move," Ana gritted out, her fists clenching at her sides.
"Or what?" Vivian laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that echoed off the marble tiles. She leaned in close, her eyes fixated on Ana’s pale, strained face. "What are you going to do, Ana? Cry to Damian? Run away again like you did last time?"
Vivian lowered her voice, dropping the toxic poison she had been saving for years.
"You know..." Vivian whispered, a sinister smirk spreading across her red lips, "if you hadn’t been such a paranoid, spineless bitch back then... running off into the night over a couple of fake rumors... maybe your pathetic little baby would still be breathing today."
Something inside Anastasia violently broke.
The suffocating guilt, the years of silent agony, the raw, unhealed grief... every bit of it erupted in an absolute, blinding rage.
Before Vivian could even finish her smirk, Ana’s right fist pulled back and slammed hard into Vivian’s jaw.
CRACK.
Vivian stumbled backward violently, her high heels catching on the tile as her head snapped back, crashing against the paper towel dispenser. She shrieked in pain, her hand flying to her bruising, reddening face.
Ana stood over her, her chest heaving heavily, her eyes wide with a terrifying, unhinged fury.
But as Vivian hit the floor, her shocked expression instantly morphed back into a calculated, victorious grin. She had gotten exactly what she wanted.
Vivian didn’t fight back. Instead, she dramatically threw herself back against the marble floor, clawed at her own blouse to tear the silk collar, and began to scream at the top of her lungs.
"HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME!" Vivian shrieked, her voice echoing frantically through the door. "SHE’S CRAZY! ANASTASIA, PLEASE DON’T HURT ME! HELP!"
Footsteps came pounding down the hallway outside. Heavy knocks began violently rattling the locked washroom door.
Ana froze in terror as the realization hit her like a bucket of ice water.
She stood over a screaming Vivian, her hands trembling, her ring catching the light... completely set up to look like a bitter, unhinged, jealous ex-wife attacking Damian’s head of PR.
The locked washroom door, bursting open with a loud thud.
Clara rushed in first, followed by two executive security guards and a crowd of shocked marketing employees who had gathered in the hallway.
The scene before them was horrific.
Vivian was sprawled on the cold marble floor, her high-end silk blouse torn at the collar, clutching her red, visibly bruised jaw as tears streamed down her face.
Standing over her was Anastasia... hands trembling, chest heaving, her knuckles flushed red, and the massive diamond ring gleaming beneath the harsh fluorescent lights.
"Miss Stark!" The lead security guard gasped, immediately stepping between them to shield Vivian, while Clara rushed straight to Ana’s side, holding her back.
"Ana, oh my god..." Clara whispered in absolute horror, looking between Ana’s wild, unhinged eyes and Vivian’s wrecked state. "What did you do?!"
Vivian didn’t wait for Ana to speak. She curled into a ball against the security guard’s arm, sobbing loudly, her voice echoing frantically through the open doorway for every employee in the hall to hear.
"She’s out of her mind!" Vivian wept hysterically, her body trembling with calculated perfection. "I just came in to congratulate her on the proposal... and she attacked me!"
"That’s a lie!" Clara snapped defensively. "Ana would never..."
"She couldn’t handle the truth!" Vivian shrieked, cutting Clara off, her tear-stained face twisting into a tragic, heartbroken mask as she looked around at the gathering crowd.
"She found out!" Vivian sobbed, her voice dropping a bombshell that made the entire hallway instantly drop into a dead, breathless silence.
"She found out that Damian and I used to be deeply in love with each other before her father forced the marriage! Damian was forced to marry her... when his heart was still completely mine! She realized her whole life was a lie, and she snapped!"
Gasps rippled through the onlookers in the hallway. Whispers erupted like wildfire.
Ana stood utterly frozen, the air completely knocked out of her lungs.
The room seemed to spin as Vivian’s words echoed over and over in her mind. Damian was in love with her?
Her blood ran ice-cold. A sickening, terrifying dread settled deep in her stomach as she stared at Vivian’s triumphant, tear-filled eyes.
Damian’s hatred is actually about the woman he was forced to give up for her?
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