The open-plan office of ChronoNexus buzzed with a structured chaos that Dash Bolt had come to appreciate. Unlike the pristine, almost sterile environment of Vesta's side of the business, the Anchor Drive wing was alive with the hum of innovation, the clatter of keyboards, and the low murmur of collaboration. Here, amidst the organized clutter, worked the employees from Anchor Drive, now merged under the ChronoNexus banner.
Among them were Viral Vinnie and Chartwell Timeline, a couple since their university days at the prestigious Aethelgard Institute of Business Excellence. They were the power couple of the marketing team, their professional partnership as seamless as their personal one. Lately, however, a new kind of tension had seeped in. Vinnie, a usually relentless force in promotions, was a ghost of her former self. Her work on the new modular car project, a massive priority for Dash, was uninspired and full of careless mistakes—grammatical errors on banners, typos in press releases.
It was a puzzle for everyone. Clicky Bannerly, a seasoned coworker, suspected burnout, but Dash was a firm believer in preventing that, and his leadership style actively encouraged work-life balance. Something else was clearly wrong.
At a nearby cluster of desks, the intern squad was taking a coffee break. Eli Folder, the self-proclaimed Document Queen, was meticulously sorting folders, her movements as precise as her title. Benji Clipboard, the form distributor, was pulling pins from a corkboard with an almost hypnotic rhythm. Suddenly, Manu Fetcher, the task-fetching rollerblade pro, came whizzing around a corner on an errand for Planner O'Task, a guru of to-do lists on another floor.
Just then, Dash walked in. His presence, while authoritative, was always accompanied by a vibrant energy that animated the office. He navigated the space with a calm purpose, a stark contrast to the chaotic energy of the Vesta side of things. As he passed the cyber security section, Patchy McScript, the pirate-patched coder, waved him over.
"Dash, got a minute? Just wanted to update you on the new firewall protocol," Patchy said, his eye patch adding a dash of mystery to his otherwise straightforward demeanor. "Ran the diagnostic, and we're airtight on all fronts. Took out a few sneaky little legacy bugs that were hiding in the mainframe, but it's all cleared out now. We're locked down tight, ready for anything."
"Good to hear, Patchy," Dash replied, giving a brief nod of approval. "Keep me in the loop."
As Dash turned to walk away, a flash of motion caught his eye. Manu, caught up in her rollerblading momentum, lost her balance and crashed straight into Benji. The cup of tea in Benji's hand flew into the air, a dark arc against the bright office light, and landed squarely on Vinnie, soaking the front of her white blouse.
Chartwell was by her side in an instant, his hand outstretched with a handkerchief. "Vinnie, are you okay? Let me help you with that," he said, his voice full of concern.
But Vinnie flinched back as if Chartwell's touch were a fire. She swatted his hand away, her eyes wide and panicked. "No, I'm fine! I've got it," she said, her voice tight and cold. Without another word, she turned and bolted for the washroom, leaving behind a baffled silence.
"What just happened?" Eli asked, her voice reflecting the collective bewilderment.
Dash simply watched the retreating figure, his expression unreadable. He remained silent, a silent observer in the midst of the minor chaos, before saying, "Everyone, just be careful."
Clicky, however, wasn't going to let it go. He turned to Chartwell. "Vinnie's been weirdly silent and lost these days. Chartwell, is something wrong?"
Chartwell shrugged nonchalantly. "She's very normal, Click. Maybe it's that time of the month?"
The comment hit the air with a thud. Eli and Manu bristled, their faces flushing with annoyance.
"Not everything is related to that time of the month," Eli snapped, her hands on her hips.
"Exactly," Manu added, stepping off her rollerblades. "Vinnie has been like that for more than a week now. PMS usually lasts for only four days."
A small, imperceptible smile played on Dash's lips. He was happy to see the women stand up for themselves.
"Okay, ladies, calm down," Chartwell said, his voice laced with irritation.
"Alright, team," Dash cut in smoothly, a subtle end to the burgeoning argument. "I hope everyone is making good progress. We'll have a meeting in five minutes."
Five minutes later, everyone was seated in the conference room. Chartwell had saved a seat for Vinnie next to him, but when she entered, her face pale and her movements stiff, she bypassed it entirely and sat down next to Eli. The room noticed, but nobody commented. Dash, however, was particularly observant. Vinnie and Chartwell were the picture-perfect, mid-aged couple. Their quiet distance in the meeting room piqued his curiosity.
The meeting itself was a whirlwind of progress reports on the modular car prototype. As it concluded, Dash dismissed the team but held back Clicky, Eli, and Manu. He led them to his office and closed the door.
"I need you three to be honest with me," he began, his voice low and serious. "What's happening with Vinnie? Is she facing any problems?"
Clicky spoke first. "Her efficiency is down, Dash. She insists she isn't burnt out, but something's definitely off."
Eli nodded in agreement. "She looks lost a lot of the time. She just zones out in the middle of a conversation."
Manu chimed in. "And she's started walking so cautiously, like she's afraid of something. She looks sick, too."
Clicky added one more detail. "She's on her phone a lot. And she gets upset every single time she sees it."
Left alone in his office, the door clicking shut behind his team, Dash leaned back in his leather chair. The silence was a stark contrast to the lively hum of the main office floor. His mind, however, was far from quiet. He was different from Sterling Steele. Where Sterling saw people as chess pieces in a grand corporate game, Dash saw them as individuals with their own intricate stories. Sterling would have seen Vinnie's emotional state as a liability, a problem to be solved with a new project or a forced vacation. Dash, however, felt a deeper unease. He had a sixth sense for distress, a skill honed by a lifetime of observation. He wouldn't let this go.
He picked up the intercom. "Ace, can you ask Vinnie to come to my office? Just her. Tell her it's nothing to worry about. Just a quick chat."
A few minutes later, a timid knock sounded on the polished wood. Vinnie entered, her shoulders slightly hunched, her eyes fixed on the floor. She took the seat opposite him without a word. The air between them was thick with a tension that had nothing to do with work.
"Vinnie," Dash began, his voice soft, "is everything alright?"
She offered a strained, almost brittle smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Yes, Dash. Everything is fine."
He paused, studying her. Her lie was as transparent as glass. He had seen the same forced smile on his mother's face years ago. "Let me rephrase," he said, his tone softening further. "Is everything alright between you and Chartwell?"
The name landed like a physical blow. Vinnie's head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock and a raw panic she couldn't hide. "Um... I... I don't know what you mean," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.
Dash leaned forward, his elbows on his desk. "Vinnie, you've always been an awful liar, especially to me. When you stammer, I know the truth is locked behind those lips. And right now, you can't even form a sentence. Something is terribly wrong. Let us help you. We're a team, remember?"
A single tear escaped her eye and traced a path down her cheek. She took a shaky breath, her hand unconsciously pressing against her stomach in a protective gesture. "I'm pregnant," she said, the words a hushed confession.
A genuine, warm smile bloomed on Dash's face. He stood up from his chair and walked around the desk, his presence filling the space with a reassuring calm. "Vinnie, that's... that is such wonderful news. Congratulations! Chartwell must be thrilled."
"It's not wonderful news, Dash," she said, the words catching in her throat as she looked down again, her head shaking slowly. "Because I found something out."
His smile faltered, replaced by a look of deep concern. "Vinnie, are you and the baby okay? Is everything alright with your health?"
"We're fine," she said, her voice dropping. "But the dad... I don't think the dad is. The dad is the problem."
"The dad?" Dash repeated, his mind racing to keep up. "You mean Chartwell? What's wrong with him?"
Vinnie finally looked up, her tear-filled eyes now burning with a cold, devastating truth. "Dash, you remember the chaos that erupted the other day when Chartwell's phone went missing? That was me. That was us."
A flash of recognition crossed Dash's face. "Oh, I remember. Chartwell going insane was a day for the ages."
"Well, it was me and Bytey McBuffer, with Benji's help. I saw a lipstick stain on his shirt while doing laundry one day, and I needed to know. I couldn't just ask him. So we stole his phone and installed spyware."
Dash's easy expression hardened into a mask of stone. "Wait, is he cheating on you?"
"He is cheating on me," she said, her voice breaking as the tears returned. "He's been cheating on me for the past five years. And he's not even loyal to the other woman; his inbox is filled with messages from him asking other girls out on dates."
Dash moved instantly, pulling a chair closer and crouching down in front of her. He took her hands in his, grounding her. "Does he know that you know? Does he know you're pregnant?"
She shook her head, unable to speak.
"Vinnie," he said, his voice firm and unwavering, "I know my words might not feel comforting right now, but I need you to listen to me. And I need you to do this one thing. You are going to go out there, and you are going to confront him. Right now. You are going to take this step for yourself and for your baby."
Vinnie's face crumpled. "But I can't, Dash. My baby is going to be without a father."
"No," he said, his voice taking on a sharper, more resolute tone. "Your baby is going to have a father. Just not him. Vinnie, you and Chartwell have been together for ten years. Ten years! And in that time, has he ever talked about marriage? Has he ever included you in his future plans? He's been treating you like a placeholder, Vinnie. A backup plan. If he can't be present for your feelings after ten years, do you truly believe he would be present for your child's feelings? Save yourself, Vinnie. Save your sanity, and save your child from a man who will never see either of you as a priority."
Vinnie looked at him, the raw truth of his words a slap in the face. The tears stopped. Her chin rose slightly, a new fire igniting in her eyes. The fear was gone, replaced by a steely resolve he recognized instantly. She stood up, and for the first time since she had entered his office, she looked him straight in the eye.
"Okay, Dash. I'll do it."
She walked out of the office with a new, determined purpose. Dash followed a few steps behind her, a silent show of unwavering support.
Dash was striding back towards the open-plan office, his mind still on Vinnie's revelation, when Vesta appeared, a question on her lips. "Hey, Dash, I thought maybe we could—"
He cut her off, his focus singular and intense. "Come with me." Before she could protest, he took her hand and, with a gentle but firm grip, started pulling her along behind him.
Vinnie had re-entered the office space, the quiet hum of productivity a stark backdrop to her inner turmoil. Her steps were purposeful as she walked directly to Chartwell's desk. He looked up, a placid smile on his face. "Are you alright, Vinnie? You ran off in a hurry."
"I'm more than fine, Chartwell," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "But your phone and you... you're about to be anything but." Without another word, she picked up his phone from his desk and, with a shocking display of force, hurled it to the floor. The screen shattered with a sickening crack, the pieces scattering across the polished concrete.
"Are you out of your mind?!" Chartwell shrieked, jumping to his feet.
"Am I out of my mind? You're the one who lost his mind a long time ago!" she hissed back, her voice now a blade.
Just then, Dash and Vesta entered the chaotic space. Vesta, her hand still in Dash's, whispered, "What's happening?"
"A mother," Dash replied, his eyes fixed on Vinnie, "standing up for herself and her child."
The entire office had fallen silent. Everyone watched, stunned, held in a tense, collective breath. Vesta, though confused, understood this was not her place to intervene and stayed silent.
"How dare you?" Chartwell snarled, his face twisting with fury. He raised his hand, a shocking, violent gesture. In an instant, the male-coded Clicky Bannerly surged forward, but before he could reach him, Vinnie herself intercepted the blow. She caught Chartwell's wrist in a grip of iron, her eyes blazing.
"How dare I?" she spat, twisting his arm back and shoving him away from her. "How dare you? You betrayed two women's trust at the same time. You literally have another woman on the sidelines, and you dare to ask what's wrong with me, you pathetic, cheating asshole?"
A collective gasp went through the office.
"How dare you install spyware on me, huh?" Chartwell shouted back, emboldened by the crowd and enraged by her words. "And what makes you think you are special? Women are meant to be faithful to one man, but a man can have multiple women."
The sexist comment seemed to inflame everyone in the room. Vinnie's eyes narrowed. "You want to talk about what I bring to the table? Let's talk. I do every single household chore while you don't even lift a finger. When I'm exhausted from work, I still cook, but instead of appreciating it, you nitpick everything. I earn just as much as you do, and I invest it equally. I show up to every one of your family events, but you don't even bother to show up for mine, always saying you're too busy. Sexually, you've never satisfied me, yet you are the one cheating on the woman who is actually happy with her life. You only took from me—my emotional labor, my physical effort—and I kept on giving, but you forgot to give me the one thing I asked for: commitment, saying it was just a piece of paper. You built yourself up on my back, and now you have the nerve to play the victim and make me look bad?"
She finished her tirade by slapping him across the face with a loud, resounding crack.
"You bitch!" Chartwell yelled, lunging at her. This time, Clicky was there instantly, pulling him back and landing a solid punch to his jaw. A full-blown fight erupted between the two men. Dash and others immediately stepped in, pulling them apart.
"Chartwell, you're fired," Dash said, his voice cutting through the chaos like a knife.
"But Dash! You can't!" Chartwell protested, holding his aching jaw.
"I value honesty in individuals, which you have clearly proven you do not have," Dash said, his tone final. "We don't need you here anymore. Please pack your things and leave."
Chartwell's shoulders slumped in defeat, his gaze falling to the ground in shame.
Vinnie, her voice ringing with a newfound strength, delivered the final blow. "Oh, and by the way, this baby inside me? I have full custody, and you have full custody of never seeing it again." A triumphant, genuine smile graced her face.
Chartwell, defeated and humiliated, left the office in a huff. Vinnie turned to Dash and Vesta, her expression softening. "Thank you, Dash. Thank you for supporting me."
"I'm happy you stood up for yourself, Vinnie," Dash said, a proud smile on his face. "I hope you use all the benefits the office gives for your maternity leave."
"I will," she replied, her smile radiant. She nodded to Vesta, then turned and walked away, a weight visibly lifted from her shoulders.
As Dash and Vesta began to walk down the stairs, Vesta turned to him, her eyes shining with admiration. "So, Dash Bolt, the gentleman hero. I like this side of you."
He shrugged, a faint smirk on his face. "I just can't stand dishonest people, that's all."
"Well," Vesta said, her voice laced with a playful warmth, "you are firm. That's what I like about you."