Chapter 21: THE MASKS SLIPPED

Chapter 21 : The Mask Slips

The office hummed with its usual rhythm—phones ringing, keyboards clattering, laughter spilling from small clusters of colleagues. On the surface, nothing had changed. Yet for Stella, every sound grated like static in her ears. The weight of Patricia’s announcement still pressed on her chest.

But no one around her knew. To the staff, Patricia’s engagement to Richard was a storybook moment, the kind that deserved admiration. They whispered about the dress Patricia had worn, the way Richard had smiled stiffly beside her, the sparkle of the diamond on her finger.

Only Stella, Richard, Patricia, and David knew the truth hidden beneath the gloss.

Rumors floated, of course. A few daring tongues had suggested that Stella might have once been close to Richard. Others dismissed it quickly; Stella never gave them reason to believe. She worked quietly, efficiently, never indulging in gossip. And Patricia—ever the actress—made sure to keep up appearances.

In the public eye, she was radiant. Confident. The perfect fiancée.

But behind closed doors, Patricia’s mask was slipping.

Richard’s office door shut with a sharp click. He paced the length of the room, jaw tight, while Patricia lounged against his desk, arms crossed.

“You embarrassed me,” she hissed. “Standing there like a statue while I made the announcement. You didn’t even smile, Richard. People noticed.”

Richard stopped pacing. “I didn’t ask for an announcement.”

“You didn’t stop it, either.” Patricia’s eyes gleamed. “And why? Because Stella was watching?”

The name hung heavy in the air. Richard didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

Patricia pushed off the desk, her smile sharp as broken glass. “You think you can hide it, but I see the way you look at her. And so does David. He’s always hovering around her, isn’t he? Like some guard dog waiting for scraps.”

Richard’s fists clenched at his sides. “Leave David out of this.”

But Patricia only laughed. “Oh, I won’t. Not when he’s circling her like he knows something I don’t.”

In the quiet of the records room, David leaned against the wall, waiting for Stella. He had watched the exchange in the conference earlier—Richard calling Stella into the project, Patricia’s icy smile, the tension humming between them like an exposed wire. He knew that look on Richard’s face. He’d seen it years ago, when Stella was the center of his world.

When Stella entered, arms full of files, David straightened. “You shouldn’t be alone with him too much,” he said softly.

Stella blinked. “With who?”

“You know who.” His gaze was steady, but his jaw tightened. “Richard’s not the same man you knew. And Patricia—she’ll do whatever it takes to keep what she thinks is hers.”

Stella lowered the files onto the table, her shoulders sagging. “I didn’t choose this. I’m just trying to do my job.”

“I know.” His voice softened. “But I’ve known Richard longer than anyone. And Patricia? She’s more dangerous than she looks. Just… be careful.”

Something unspoken passed between them, an understanding born not of romance but of shared knowledge, of scars both carried differently.

By late afternoon, the office was buzzing with the details of the upcoming merger. Stella kept her focus sharp, answering questions, drafting reports, burying herself in numbers. But she felt it—the weight of Richard’s gaze across the room, the burn of Patricia’s silent scrutiny.

At one point, Patricia floated over, her perfume sweeping ahead of her like a warning. She leaned close to Stella’s desk, voice pitched just loud enough for Stella alone to hear.

“You must feel proud,” Patricia said sweetly. “Richard trusts you with something so important. Of course, he’s always had a soft spot for… reliable people.”

The words dripped with false praise, yet Stella didn’t flinch. She simply looked up, her expression unreadable.

“Reliability,” she said calmly, “is something you can’t fake.”

For a heartbeat, Patricia’s smile faltered. Then she straightened, laughing lightly as if nothing had passed between them, and swept back to Richard’s side.

But David, from across the room, had seen everything. And the look in his eyes wasn’t just concern anymore. It was resolve.

That night, long after the office lights dimmed, Patricia stood at the window of her apartment, staring at the glittering city below. Richard was in his study, pretending to work, but she knew his thoughts were elsewhere.

On Stella.

Always on Stella.

Patricia pressed her palm to the glass, nails digging into her skin. The mask she wore all day—perfect, flawless, enviable—felt heavier by the hour.

One day soon, she would tear Stella’s quiet strength apart piece by piece. She had to. Because if she didn’t, the whispers would turn into truths.

And truth was the one thing Patricia couldn’t survive