Chapter 59: The Devil Gave A Day Off
When Anastasia opened her eyes the next morning, the grand master suite was bathed in soft, golden sunlight.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she woke up feeling genuinely refreshed and relaxed. The spot beside her was cold and empty; Damian hadn’t slept in the bed with her last night. A faint, quiet smile touched Ana’s lips. He had actually kept his word. He was giving her her space for her day off.
Her morning routine went smoothly. Breakfast was served in quiet solitude, and the car ride to the corporate headquarters was peaceful, entirely free of Damian’s suffocating presence.
Upon arriving at the building, Ana stepped out of the executive elevator and walked down the quiet corridor toward her department. But just as she was about to enter her section, a familiar, sharp figure stepped directly into her path.
Vivian Stark.
Vivian glared at her, her eyes burning with a bitter, venomous rage. "Meet me at the terrace," Vivian ordered, her voice clipped and dangerous. "We need to talk."
Ana stopped, her face hardening into an indifferent mask. "I have nothing to discuss with you, Vivian. And I certainly won’t listen to a single word you have to say."
Before Ana could turn around, Vivian’s hand shot out, her nails digging forcefully into Ana’s arm. Her grip was tight enough to leave a deep bruise through the fabric of her sleeve as she tried to drag her toward the stairwell.
"You don’t have a choice..."
"What is going on here?"
A stern, commanding voice cut through the hallway. Both women turned to see Clara Reed walking toward them, a heavy frown creasing her forehead as her sharp eyes locked onto Vivian’s hand gripping Ana’s arm.
Vivian stiffened, quickly trying to compose herself, though her grip remained taut. "It’s nothing, Clara. I just had a personal matter to discuss with Anastasia."
"Personal matters should be discussed after work hours, Miss Stark," Clara replied coldly, her tone leaving zero room for argument. "Not on corporate premises while my team is on the clock. Release Anastasia so she can resume her duties immediately."
Vivian’s jaw clenched. Reluctantly, she let go of Ana’s arm, throwing a sharp, lethal glare at Clara before turning on her heel and strutting down the hallway.
Clara watched her leave before looking at Ana with a softer, maternal expression. "Are you alright, Anastasia?"
"I’m fine," Ana said, releasing a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. "Thank you, Clara."
"Don’t mention it. Get ready for tonight... we have a long evening ahead of us."
By 7:00 PM, the marketing department and the interns had gathered at an upscale rooftop venue for the team dinner.
The atmosphere was lively and buzzing with energy. The mouthwatering aroma of grilled meats and barbecue filled the open air, and the alcohol flowed freely as everyone let down their guard after weeks of intense pressure.
Halfway through the evening, Clara stood up alongside two senior directors, raising her glass to command the room’s attention.
"I have great news," Clara announced, a proud smile on her face. "Our strategic marketing campaign plans were officially approved by the executive board this afternoon! Implementation starts next week, and the interns will be directly assisting the mainstream employees on this major launch."
The entire room erupted into cheers, glasses clinking as the interns celebrated their big break.
As the party continued into the late hours, Ana quietly stepped away from the main table to use the washroom. Stepping back out into the dimly lit, quiet corridor leading back to the patio, she almost bumped straight into Marcus.
He was holding a half-empty glass, his cheeks flushed and his eyes heavy with alcohol.
"Anastasia..." Marcus slurred, a broad, foolish grin spreading across his face as he stepped into her path, blocking the exit.
"Marcus? Are you okay?" Ana asked, taken aback by his proximity.
"I’m more than okay now that you’re here," Marcus leaned in closer, his breath reeking of bourbon. "You know... you’re really beautiful, Ana. You’re so quiet, so gentle... I’ve been watching you since day one."
Ana blinked, her gullible nature making her slow to grasp where this was heading. "Marcus, you’ve had too much to drink. Let’s get you back to the table..."
Before she could finish, Marcus reached out, his hands wrapping firmly around her waist and pulling her body flush against his. He bent his head down, attempting to press a sloppy kiss onto her lips.
Panicking, Ana pushed against his chest, tilting her head back to avoid him. "Marcus, stop! I’m married!"
"No, you’re not," Marcus muttered, his grip tightening as he ignored her resistance completely, forcing himself closer. "Everyone knows you’re divorced, Ana... You’re free. You have to accept my feelings for you!"
"My answer is no, Marcus!" Ana said firmly, her voice lacing with a sharp edge as she slammed both palms against his chest, shoving him back with all her strength. "Let go of me right now!"
Marcus stumbled back a pace, surprised by her sudden force, but before he could reach for her again, the heavy restroom door swung open.
Clara Reed stumbled out, leaning heavily against the wall for support. Her blazer was slightly unbuttoned, her hair unusually messy, and her face flushed deep red from the sheer amount of alcohol she had consumed throughout the night.
"Ah... the tiles are... moving..." Clara slurred, blabbering completely nonsensical gibberish as she dragged her feet forward. "The presentation slides... need more yellow... so much yellow..."
Ana immediately used the distraction to slip past Marcus, breaking free from his reach entirely. She hurried to Clara’s side, catching her boss by the waist before she could lose her footing completely.
"Clara! Easy, take it easy," Ana whispered softly, slinging Clara’s arm over her shoulder to bear her weight.
Marcus muttered a vague, half-hearted apology, but Ana didn’t give him another glance, steering the barely conscious department head out through the quiet side exit of the venue to escape the loud music and lingering crowd.
Night had fully fallen, and a chilly breeze swept through the quiet street. Across the road, the bright neon light of a 24-hour convenience store flickered warmly against the dark pavement.
Ana carefully guided Clara to a wooden bench under a dim streetlight, letting her sit down. Clara slumped back against the bench, her eyes closed as she continued to mutter softly to herself about quarterly budgets and marketing statistics.
"Stay right here, Clara," Ana said gently, patting her hand. "I’m going to grab you a bottle of cold water from across the street. I’ll be back in two minutes."
Clara merely hummed in response, her head tilting back against the wood.
Ana quickly crossed the quiet street and pushed through the glass door of the convenience store, the little bell above ringing brightly. She rushed straight to the back cooler, grabbing a cold bottle of mineral water, and hurried toward the front register to pay.
As the cashier scanned the item, Ana turned to look through the clear storefront window, checking on Clara across the street.
Her blood instantly ran ice-cold.
The bench was empty.
Panicking, Ana’s eyes darted frantically around the dimly lit sidewalk... and that’s when she saw it.
A tall, heavily built man in a dark hoodie had his arm locked tightly around a struggling, semi-conscious Clara, forcibly dragging her limp body away from the streetlight and down into the pitch-black mouth of a narrow, deserted alleyway.
"No!"