"Mom? What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice a mix of surprise and curiosity.
Then her mother turned to her with a casual smile.
"Oh, I had something to do around here and thought I'd stop by. I just got here a few minutes ago," she replied, brushing invisible lint off her sleeve.
Anastasia exhaled and nodded, gesturing toward the door. "Alright, come in."
The two of them entered the house, the quiet grandeur of the living room enveloping them. Anastasia motioned for her mother to sit while she made her way to the kitchen.
A few moments later, she returned with a glass of water, placing it gently in her mother's hand.
Her mother took a small sip before setting the glass on the table and shooting Anastasia with a glare.
"I hope you're not causing trouble for Mason," she began, her tone sharp and devoid of warmth.
"What!" Anastasia's lips parted slightly in disbelief as she stared at her mother. "Trouble?" She echoed, frowning.
Her mother leaned forward, her expression stern.
"Yes, trouble! You know why you're here, Anastasia. You need to adhere to whatever the Harrington family expects of you, especially Mason and his mother. Don't forget what's at stake."
Anastasia clenched her fists, her forehead creased with frustration. "What about what I want, Mom? Does that even matter to anyone?"
"What you want?" she snapped and Anastasia shook her head in disbelief.
"You need to forget about your wants," her mother declared. "Your father took that loan, and we don't have the means to pay it back now, especially with your brother starting college. You need to behave yourself and make this marriage work."
The words stung like a slap. Anastasia bit her lip to keep the tears threatening to spill at bay.
She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to stay calm, though her mind was filled with resentment.
"Fine, I get it," she finally muttered.
She reached for the empty glass on the table, ready to escape to the kitchen before she said something she would regret.
Just as she turned, the sound of the front door opening made her pause.
Anastasia looked up to see Mason strolling in, his usual air of confidence wrapped around him like a cloak. And he stopped in his tracks when he saw her mother sitting on the couch.
For a moment, his face was stern, but then he gave a slight nod.
"Good evening, Mrs. Stones," he said, his tone polite yet distant. Anastasia's mother's face lit up, and she stood quickly, smoothing her skirt.
"Good evening, Mason," she said cheerfully, moving closer to him. "I hope Anastasia has been behaving herself."
Mason's gaze suddenly flickered to Anastasia, his lips curled slightly in what she knew was disdain.
Anastasia crossed her arms, rolling her eyes in exasperation at the display.
"I guess so," Mason replied curtly before adding, "Excuse me."
Without another word, he strode toward his room, leaving the two women in an awkward silence. The moment he was out of sight, her mother nudged Anastasia's arm.
"What's wrong with him? Did you do something to upset him?"
"Why does it have to be me who did something wrong?" Anastasia's patience snapped. "Why can't it ever be him?"
"Because Mason is never wrong!" Her mother glared at her, her voice cold.
"Oh, really?" Anastasia scoffed.
"Yes, really! You're the one who's always been stubborn and difficult. Don't you dare ruin this for us, Anastasia. Your father made a mistake, and now you need to fix it."
With her response, Anastasia laughed bitterly, though her voice cracked.
"Of course. It's always my responsibility, isn't it? No one cares about how I feel. Not you, not Dad, not anyone!"
"Don't be insolent," her mother snapped. "You're Mrs. Harrington now. That comes with responsibilities. So, act like it."
Anastasia turned away, blinking rapidly to keep her tears from falling. Her throat burned, but she swallowed the lump forming there.
There was no point in arguing.
Her mother had made up her mind long ago that Anastasia's happiness was a small price to pay for the family's mistakes. And she knew it.
"I'm leaving now," her mother announced abruptly, picking up her purse.
"Safe journey!" Anastasia replied flatly without turning around. Her mother stopped at the door, looking back at her daughter with one final glance.
"Remember your place, Anastasia... Don't make us regret sending you here." She warned and stepped out.
The door closed with a soft thud, and Anastasia stood frozen in place. Her chest heaved continuously as she fought back her tears.
Slowly, she carried the glass to the kitchen, her steps heavy and her mind swirling with thoughts as she placed the cup back.
She swirled and stared out of the kitchen window, gripping the edge of the counter tightly.
"One year," she whispered to herself. "Just one more year, and I'll be free of all of this."
As Anastasia walked back into the living room, she saw Mason already seated on the couch, his suit jacket off and his tie loosened, while scrolling through his phone.
Ignoring his presence, she turned toward the hallway, ready to retreat to the solace of her room as usual.
"Hey!" Mason's hoarse voice reverberated, halting her mid-step. "Why did you challenge me at the company today?"
Anastasia froze, her fingers tightening around the strap of her handbag she just picked from the couch.
She exhaled slowly, her shoulders slumping slightly as if preparing herself for yet another exhausting conversation. She turned around, her gaze meeting his sharp, unyielding one.
"I didn't challenge you," she replied calmly, though her voice carried a trace of weariness. "I only did my job as an employee of your company."
"Your job?" he echoed, rising from the couch. "Do you think it's part of your job to contradict me in front of the board? To undermine my authority?"
Anastasia tilted her head, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
"I wasn't contradicting you... I only presented a project that could help the company. If that bruises your ego, maybe you should reflect on why that is."
"Huh?" He let out, as he simply stared at her, as though trying to decipher the woman standing before him.
Just as he opened his mouth to fire back, the doorbell rang, the sound echoing through the room like a sudden interruption in a tense battle.
They both turned their heads toward the entrance, their gazes locking for a brief moment before Mason moved.
He strode to the door, and stopped by the camera panel mounted on the wall.
When he pressed the button, the screen flickered on, revealing Nicholas standing outside. He held a shopping bag in one hand, his face composed.
'What is he doing here?' Mason thought, his brows furrowed in surprise.
Then he glanced back at Anastasia, who was now standing still, wondering who was at the door.
Without saying a word, Mason turned back to the door, gripping the handle and opened it...