Burning Rancor 18+

One

Two Years After the Divorce (between Eclipse and Mason.)

“Bring me lunch,” Mason ordered, his voice cold and devoid of any humanity.

I nodded quietly from my corner- the exact spot he had designated for me. To anyone looking from the outside, it probably seemed like a twisted fairy tale. The rumors around the office claimed Mason had blown up his marriage for me, the low-class homewrecker, and that we were now enjoying our lovey-dovey lives together inside his private suite. But Mason hadn’t moved my workspace into his cabin out of love. He did it to mentally destroy me.

He had given me a small, cramped desk in the far corner, but there was a catch: no chair.

I had to stand on my feet for hours on end, forced to wear high heels every single day. Flats were strictly forbidden.

Mason didn’t have many ways to physically hurt me without crossing legal lines, so he resorted to cruelty that would go completely unnoticed by clients but would be pure agony for me.

And the desk was just the beginning. He made sure to keep me completely in the dark regarding his daily schedule. Out of nowhere, he would drag me into a high-profile board meeting and bark, “Ava, take the lead on this.” I would stand there, completely dumbfounded, stumbling over my words just trying to figure out what the meeting was even about. Step by step, he carefully engineered an image of me to the rest of the company- proving to them that I wasn't in this office because of my skills, but because I had spread my legs for the boss.

He isolated me. He mocked me in front of his executives. He wore down every single ounce of confidence I had left until I cowered just to exist in his presence.

But in my heart, I believed it was exactly what I deserved for hurting the woman he loved. I had ruined a happy marriage because of my mother’s insatiable greed, so if this was my penance, I would take it.

“From Burton’s,” Mason added, cutting through my thoughts.

The name of the restaurant snapped me out of my daze real quick. Burton’s was on the absolute outskirts of the city. With the midday traffic, it would take at least an hour and a half just to get there.

“Got it,” I whispered.

I hurried out of the office, rushing toward the elevator like a madwoman, conscious of every second ticking away. As I walked through the corridors, the employees I passed threw disgusted, dirty looks my way. By now, I was completely immune to the whispers, but the weight of them still pressed heavy on my chest.

“Taxi!” I screamed the moment I burst through the lobby doors, huffing and sweating from running in my heels. Thankfully, an empty cab pulled up almost immediately. I threw myself into the backseat. “Take me to Burton’s. Please, can you go as fast as possible? I’ll pay you extra, whatever it takes.”

The driver was a middle-aged man with kind eyes and a warm smile. He caught my frantic gaze in the rearview mirror and softened. “Don't worry, kid. I know a detour that bypasses the main highway traffic. I can use a shortcut.”

“Yes, please. Do that,” I pleaded, clutching my purse tightly.

The man nodded, maneuvering through the chaotic streets like a seasoned expert. Thanks to him, we arrived in about forty minutes. Relieved, I basically shoved a handful of cash into his hands and scrambled out of the car, ignoring the ache in my arches.

I hurried up to the entrance, only to freeze.

The doors were locked. The windows were completely dark. Hanging right in the center of the glass was a massive bold sign: CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS. According to the dates, it had been closed for a whole week.

I stared at the sign in a total daze. Then, the burning in my throat started, and my eyes welled up with hot tears. I sniffled, taking a deep, shaky breath, desperately trying not to break down right there on the pavement.

When I turned around, I realized the kind taxi driver hadn't left yet. He had seen the sign too. He rolled down his window, looking at me with deep pity. “Do you need a ride back to the city, miss?”

“Yes...” My voice cracked.

I stumbled back into the cab. To be honest, I don’t even remember the ride back. The exhaustion had completely numbed my brain. By the time I managed to walk back into the company’s grand lobby, the first thing I saw was Mason.

He was standing there surrounded by his close associates, who were all laughing and clapping him on the back. “Thanks for treating us to lunch, boss! That place was incredible,” one of them said.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Lunch.

He had already ordered food for everyone. He knew the restaurant was closed. It was a setup from the very beginning.

I stood there, staring at Mason blankly. Feeling my eyes on him, he turned his head. Even though his face remained perfectly stoic, a mask of professional indifference, I saw the clear, piercing disgust dancing in his eyes.

I lowered my gaze, unable to hold his stare, and quietly slunk back up to his cabin. For the rest of the afternoon, I stood in my corner, silently staring at the blank wall while Mason worked, a ghost in my own body.

I don’t remember how the workday ended, or how I even managed to drag my aching body across town to my parents' house. But the absolute second I unlocked the front door and stepped inside, my mother was already waiting in the hallway.

“Did you sleep with him yet?” she demanded, her eyes glittering with desperation and greed.

I just stood there, looking at her with a completely dazed, blank expression. I didn't have the energy to fake an answer.

Seeing my silence, her face contorted with rage. “You useless w***e!”

She lunged forward, shoving me with so much force that my heels slid out from under me. I flew backward, my spine crashing violently against the sharp wooden edge of the shoe rack. Pain shot up my back, but she didn’t care.

“You had one job!” she snarled, towering over me as I collapsed onto the floor. “Just one damn job, and that is to get into Mason’s bed! And you fail me over and over again!”

She kept screaming, her voice vibrating through the small hallway. Instinctively, I curled into a ball on the floor, covering my head with my hands, crying silently and wishing with everything in me that the earth would just open up and swallow me whole. I wanted it to end. I just wanted all of it to end.

I didn't even realize I was sobbing out loud until something heavy collided with the side of my head. Hard.

“The only thing this f*****g b***h knows how to do is cry!” my mother roared, her voice echoing off the walls.

She turned around, pacing the floor, and directed her boiling rage toward my father, who was sitting passively on the couch, completely ignoring the violence. “It’s all because of you! If you hadn't knocked me up with this piece of s**t, I would have been a wealthy woman by now! Instead, I’m stuck in this horseshit life with a dumb b***h who doesn't even know how to spread her legs properly!”

Hearing those awful, degrading words come out of my own mother's mouth made the tears pour down my face even harder. My loud sobs only made her madder.

“Shut up! Just shut the f**k up!” she shrieked.

Before I could even react, she grabbed a heavy metal pan from the kitchen counter and slammed it squarely against the side of my head. The impact was deafening. A sharp, white-hot flash of pain blinded me, and within seconds, the world went completely black, my consciousness fading into nothingness.

~•~