Chapter 31: Saturday Panic & Corporate Scandals

It was Saturday.

But not the relaxing, lazy kind with tea and fuzzy socks.

No — this was the kind of Saturday where Katherine Brown sat cross-legged on her living room rug, surrounded by takeout containers, mismatched pillows, and a hundred crumpled sticky notes that now read things like:

“Legal implications???”

“Can I be sued??”

“What even is a corporate relationship disclosure agreement?!?”

“WHY DID I SIGN THAT THING?!”

She stared at her phone like it was a bomb.

Because fifteen minutes ago, Sebastian Mason had texted her just four words:

"Board knows. Stay calm."

Stay calm???

She nearly threw her phone at the window.

“What the hell does the board knows even mean?!” she cried to no one in particular. “Do they know that I once mistook Excel for a dating app? Do they know I sometimes cry at coffee commercials???”

She collapsed back on the floor, arms spread like she’d just been shot in a corporate warzone.

Then she sat up again, frantically Googling things like:

“Can HR agreements be undone”

“Signs you’re about to be fired”

“How to tell your boss you accidentally fell in love with him and now the board knows and everything is ruined”

Her heart was doing gymnastics in her chest. Her mind was spinning.

And then —

A knock.

She froze.

Not just because someone was at her door, but because only one person would knock like that — firm, precise, and just two taps too confident.

She scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping over a pizza box.

She opened the door.

And there he was.

Sebastian.

In jeans and a dark navy sweater. No tie. No briefcase. Just him — calm, unreadable, dangerous.

She stared at him, eyes wide. “Are we being sued?”

He raised a brow. “Hello to you too.”

Katherine stepped aside, letting him in. “Sebastian, I’m not okay. I have read twelve Reddit threads about workplace relationships and half of them ended with someone moving to Canada.”

He walked into the kitchen like he owned the place (again), glanced at the coffee machine, then turned back to her.

“The board isn’t suing us.”

“That’s a relief,” she exhaled. “So I’m just being fired.”

Sebastian smirked slightly.

“You’re not being fired.”

“But they know,” she whispered. “They know.”

“Yes, they do.”

“And?”

“And they’re not stupid,” he said, grabbing a mug. “They saw it coming months ago.”

Katherine blinked. “Wait, months?”

He poured himself coffee. “Clara’s been suspicious since your second week.”

“I didn’t even talk to you my second week!”

“You spilled tea on my laptop.”

She groaned. “Ugh, that day.”

He took a sip and leaned against her counter.

“They’ve asked for a formal update. But no one’s threatening you. I’ve made it clear — you’re not going anywhere.”

Katherine squinted. “You what?”

Sebastian met her gaze.

“I told them I want you on this team. Period. You’re the most creative mind we’ve had in years. I don’t care if your desk is a warzone of highlighters and post-it poetry. I want you.”

Katherine blinked rapidly.

He added, softer now, “I want you — in all the ways that matter.”

Silence.

Then:

“So… I’m not moving to Canada?”

Sebastian smiled, walked toward her, gently touched her cheek.

“No. You’re staying right here. With me.”

---

Katherine stood by the window, arms crossed, her thoughts spiraling like a chaotic brainstorm session gone rogue. “So let me get this straight... the board knows. HR knows. I signed something I didn’t even read because you said ‘just trust me.’ And now I’m apparently... fine?”

Sebastian exhaled a soft laugh. “Correct.”

She hesitated. “But... those papers I signed? What were they?”

He stepped closer, gently took her by the hand, and led her to the couch. They sat.

“It was a disclosure form,” he explained, calmly. “Standard corporate policy for any workplace relationship that involves someone in upper management. That’s how it works when you’re dating the CEO. Not the first time I’ve had to go through this.”

Her eyes narrowed. “So I basically signed a contract admitting we’re dating?”

Sebastian nodded. “You signed a document that confirms there’s no coercion, no conflict of interest, and that HR is aware.”

Katherine made a face. “That sounds so... romantic.”

He smirked. “It’s thrilling, isn’t it? The sexy world of compliance.”

But she wasn’t laughing.

Instead, she was staring at him.

Really staring.

“…Excuse me?”

Sebastian blinked. “What?”

Instead, she was staring at him.

Really staring.

“You said something earlier,” she said, voice softer now. “You said it’s not the first time.”

He froze.

She tilted her head. “Not the first time… what, Sebastian?”

He looked at her for a long second, then glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck.

Damn it.

“You’ve had an office romance before,” she said, eyes widening. “You have! Oh my God. Who was she?!”

Sebastian sighed, low and reluctant. “Katherine —”

“Oh, don’t you Katherine me. I just survived HR, the board, and my own mental breakdown. You owe me this story.”

He looked at her, defeated. Then… he nodded.

“Fine,” he said. “But you’re not going to like it.”

She grabbed a cushion. “If you say it was Clara from HR, I’m throwing this at you.”

“It wasn’t Clara,” he muttered.

She leaned closer. “Who then?”

Sebastian exhaled.

“Her name was Madison.”

Katherine blinked. Once. Twice.

“…Your ex-wife?”

Sebastian gave a small nod.

Katherine’s jaw dropped. “You had a workplace romance with your ex-wife?!”

He winced. “Yes.”

“Oh this is so much better than I expected.” She leaned back, absolutely delighted. “You married a coworker?? You??”

“It was a long time ago,” he muttered. “Different company. Smaller. We were young, reckless, and yes — we hid it for a while.”

“And let me guess,” Katherine said, dramatic as ever. “You thought it would be fine. That you could handle it. That feelings wouldn’t mess things up…”

She paused.

Then her tone shifted.

“…And she betrayed you, didn’t she?”

Silence.

Sebastian didn’t answer.

He didn’t have to.

Katherine reached out and gently took his hand.

“I’m not her,” she whispered.

“I know,” he replied.

Another pause.

Then she smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

“Also, FYI — if I ever cheat on you with a coworker, it’ll be with Brenda from accounting. Her eyeliner game is untouchable.”

Sebastian let out a quiet, surprised laugh.

And just like that, the air between them softened again.

---

Katherine circled him like a cat with a new toy.

“So, let me get this straight… Not only did you have a workplace romance, but you married your colleague? What happened to all your ‘professional boundaries’ and ‘emotional detachment’ speeches, hmm?”

Sebastian sighed, rubbing his temples. “I was younger. Stupider. And she wasn’t… you.”

She gasped, mock-offended. “Wow. So I’m just chaos version 2.0?”

“You’re chaos with substance,” he muttered with a smirk.

She grinned. “So Madison was version 1.0. Buggy and glitchy, I assume?”

“Stop.”

“Oh no. I need to know everything. Did she leave glitter on your keyboard too? Did she demand mood lighting for presentations? Did she —”

Ding.

Katherine glanced down at her phone.

And her smile froze.

She blinked at the screen, once. Twice.

“What is it?” Sebastian asked, already sensing the shift in her energy.

She swallowed. “An email. From the board.”

He stood. “And?”

“It’s an official summons,” she whispered. “They want to speak to me. Today. In person. In thirty minutes.”

Sebastian frowned. “That’s... strange. They shouldn’t be —”

“I KNEW IT! I knew it! I’m getting fired. This is it. They’re going to drag me into a corporate dungeon and execute me with a rusty stapler!”

“Katherine —”

“Or worse. They’ll make me sit in a beige conference room with no air conditioning and talk about compliance for seven hours while I slowly cease to exist!”

“Katherine, calm down.”

“How can I calm down?! You’re the CEO. They won’t touch you. But me? I’m expendable! I’m just the chaotic creative girl who stapled a jellybean to an expense report once!”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Why did you staple a jellybean — never mind. I’ll go with you.”

She looked at him, wild-eyed. “You can’t go with me! That’s like showing up to your own trial with the murder weapon still in your hand!”

He chuckled, despite himself. “You’re not on trial.”

But her voice had dropped to a whisper. “What if I am?”

He stepped closer, gently cupping her face. “Then I’ll defend you. With everything I’ve got.”

She blinked up at him. “Even if I… spontaneously combust during the meeting?”

“I’ll bring the fire extinguisher myself.”

Katherine tried to smile, but the knot in her stomach only tightened.

Whatever this meeting was, it wasn’t going to be just about paperwork. And she knew it.

---

The fluorescent lights in the ladies’ restroom buzzed above her like a swarm of anxious bees. Ketherine Brown stared at herself in the mirror, clutching the cold porcelain sink with trembling fingers. Her lipstick was too red, her pulse too fast, and her brain — completely fried.

She inhaled.

Then exhaled.

Then mumbled to her reflection:

"Okay, Katherine. You’re not dying. It’s just... a bunch of rich people in suits deciding whether or not to ruin your career."

She blinked rapidly, then pulled a post-it from her purse and wrote:

“Breathe, dumbass.”

She stuck it on the mirror, straightened her shoulders, and walked out.

---

The boardroom looked like it had been carved from obsidian and money.

Twelve people sat around a long glass table, most in stiff Armani suits, some with colder glares than others. At the head — Clara Jennings, Head of HR, who looked like she’d kill a puppy if it barked during a meeting.

And beside her... sat Sebastian Mason.

Not behind her. Beside.

And suddenly everything inside Ketherine twisted.

"Miss Brown," Jennings began crisply. "Please, have a seat."

She did, as gracefully as someone walking into their own execution could.

"We are here to discuss the matter you were informed of this morning."

Ketherine glanced at Sebastian. He didn’t meet her gaze. But his fingers tapped once against his knee —four taps. Their secret code.

I’m here. With you. Always.

"Your relationship with Mr. Mason constitutes a breach of clause 7.2 in the company’s ethical conduct policy," continued Jennings. "Specifically, undisclosed romantic relations between executive management and subordinate employees."

Ketherine’s voice cracked before it even left her throat. "I... I didn’t know the clause applied that way."

One of the older board members leaned forward. "Miss Brown, did you sign the acknowledgment of these terms when you joined the company?"

"I — I did. But I —"

Sebastian finally spoke. Calm. Measured. Dangerous.

"Let’s not pretend that clause 7.2 isn’t selectively enforced. Shall we pull up the five other cases where it was conveniently ignored?"

Silence.

Jennings pursed her lips. "This is not about precedent. This is about transparency."

"And I was transparent," Sebastian snapped. "I filed disclosure the moment the relationship became official. She was not required to. She is not management."

A murmuring ripple passed through the room.

"But surely," Jennings continued, undeterred, "you understand the optics —"

"The optics?" Sebastian cut in. "The optics are this: she’s one of the brightest creatives we’ve had in years. She’s bold, original, and has personally saved at least three doomed campaigns. If you think pushing her out for the sake of an outdated clause will serve this company —"

"This isn’t just about her," Jennings said coldly. "It’s about you. And the judgment of a man who used to be untouchable. Until now."

Ketherine finally found her voice. Quiet, but steady.

"Then punish him," she said. "Not me."

Sebastian turned sharply to her, eyes wide.

"No," he said.

"Yes," she whispered. "I’m not the one with power here. Fire me, fine. I’ll go back to designing chaos on my kitchen floor. But don’t let them tear you down for loving me."

He looked at her like he couldn’t breathe.

And for a moment, not a single person in that room moved.

Then one of the silent board members — an older woman with silver hair and a knowing smile — spoke.

"I think," she said slowly, "that this company has room for a bit of chaos."

Jennings stiffened. "Excuse me?"

The woman raised a brow. "If we start punishing brilliance for falling in love, we’ll soon be left with nothing but mediocrity. I vote we waive clause 7.2 in this case."

A pause. A beat.

Then another board member raised his hand. Then another. And another.

Clara Jennings looked ready to combust.

But Sebastian... he exhaled.

And Ketherine?

She grabbed his hand under the table.

Four taps.

I’m here. With you. Always.

---