Chapter 3: Veronica's POV

The neon lights shone harshly into my eyes, reflected by the tears pooling stubbornly at their corners, tears I still couldn’t control from falling, no matter how hard I tried.

“Right. You’re not just jobless now, Veronica,” I muttered under my breath, my voice cracking as I lifted the glass in my hand. “You’re about to be homeless too.”

With that, I downed the drink in one go, feeling the sharp burn slide down my throat. It didn’t hurt as much as my chest did.

“Another,” I whispered hoarsely to the bartender, who hesitated for a second before glancing at me with uncertain eyes. Maybe he was fazed or maybe just shocked by how much I’d been drinking. This was my eighth glass, yet I still didn’t feel tipsy. It was as if the drink wasn’t strong enough or as if he was mixing it with water. 

Either way, it wasn’t working. 

I just needed something to help me forget.

The image of Mason and Hattie in bed together flashed again in my mind, followed by my landlord’s smug face when he said someone had paid double what I did for my tiny apartment. 

Just to render me homeless. 

Homeless, jobless and broken.

“Another,” I repeated, lifting my head to look at the bartender. Yet he was still standing there, doing nothing.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to handle it, ma’am?” he asked softly, his voice almost cautious.

I hissed, irritation prickling at my skin. What did that have to do with him? He had only one job, which was to serve customers, not to babysit them. “I didn’t know refusing customers was part of your job description,” I shot back, my voice shaking as I glared at him. 

For a moment, his face blurred with Mason’s in my mind and that only made the ache in my chest worse.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said quietly after a pause, “but I can’t serve you another drink. I might lose my job if I do.”

I arched a brow, half laughing, half furious. Lose his job? What nonsense was that? How did pouring me another drink equate to losing his job? Nothing about today made sense anymore. Everything felt like one big joke and I was the punchline.

Anger rising, I stood abruptly, nearly knocking over the stool behind me. I reached into my purse, pulled out a note, and tossed it onto the counter without checking the amount. It didn’t matter. It would cover the drinks. And if it didn’t, then it was payment for their bad service.

The room swayed slightly as I began to walk toward the exit, my heels clicking against the floor. My head was dizzy, but my legs still worked, and I could still see the glowing “EXIT” sign across the room. I could still remember my address. That was all that mattered right now.

The music blared louder as I passed the dance floor, heavy bass thrumming against my chest. The flickering lights flashed painfully in my eyes. This was my first time in a bar like this. No, a club that pretended to be a bar. A place I’d once sworn I’d never step foot in.

But here I was.

Because tonight, I needed to forget. 

Forget Mason’s words, his mocking tone, the disgust in his eyes. Forget the sight of him kissing Hattie with the kind of hunger he’d never once shown me. Forget the way he’d called me pathetic after I’d given him three years of my life.

Three years of loyalty. Three years of making him my world, only to find out that I’d been nothing but a pawn, a hoe he kept around just to get closer to my sister, correction stepsister, but anyways. 

The humiliation burned deeper than the alcohol.

I felt used. I felt small. And as the regret twisted inside me like a blade, I realized, I didn’t just want to forget.

I wanted to stop feeling altogether.

“Watch where you’re going!”

The shout jolted me, followed almost instantly by the harsh blare of a car horn. I stumbled back, blinking hard as the world spun a little. I hadn’t realized I’d wandered off the pedestrian path and onto the express lane. My mind was far too fogged with pain and alcohol to notice anything around me.

Heart pounding, I took a shaky step back onto the sidewalk, clutching my purse tightly. 

The night air bit at my skin, sobering me just enough to realize how dangerously careless I’d been.

I rubbed my temple and began walking again, keeping this time to the pedestrian lane, my eyes darting left and right in search of a passing taxi. There was no way I’d be able to catch a bus here, not at this hour and not in this state. Even if a cab would cost me more than I could afford, it was a price I’d have to pay. 

A punishment for being foolish and for trusting Mason all those years.

“Veronica Hales?”

The sound of my name made me halt abruptly. 

A sleek car had pulled up beside me, stopping with a screech that made me flinch.

I blinked, confused, as a man stepped out. His face was unfamiliar, his expression unreadable. I didn’t know who he was or how he knew my name.

“Miss,” another voice called from behind him.

I turned and instantly recognized the man who approached. It was the man I'd seen the little girl with, the one I’d helped earlier at the grocery store. My lips parted in surprise and despite my dizziness, I managed to bow my head slightly.

“How’s Angel? Your daughter?” I asked weakly, the question slipping out before I could stop it. The memory of the girl’s frightened face returned, the mute child who had wandered into the road searching for her father. I’d managed to communicate with her through basic sign language I’d learned years ago for a movie role I never got, a role stolen by an actress who had paid for it. 

Nobody else but Hattie, of course. 

“She’s fine,” he said, a small, grateful smile flickering on his face. “My boss came to grab some drinks with his friends. What are you—”

He didn’t get to finish before I cut him off, my eyes darting back to the first man.

“Who’s this?” I asked, frowning slightly. The stranger’s presence unsettled me. There was something about him, quietly commanding. He hadn’t said a word, yet the way he watched me made my heart skip unevenly.

That was the last question I remembered asking.

Because suddenly, a violent swirl churned in my stomach. My throat tightened and before I could process what was happening, I lurched forward and vomited right onto the man’s immaculate tuxedo.

The moment froze in horror. His suit looked expensive and the kind of thing three years of my savings could never afford. My vision blurred, shame mixing with nausea. I barely heard the man from the grocery store’s startled gasp before everything started to tilt. 

My knees wobbled, my balance faltered and before I could find the strength to steady myself, my body gave out.

But I didn’t hit the ground.

A strong arm caught me, stopping my fall as if time itself had gone still. My breath hitched as I looked up at him, at the man whose suit I’d just ruined.

Up close, he was impossibly composed. His features sharp, his lips thin and unsmiling, his piercing eyes seemed to see straight through me. There was something about him that made my chest tighten, something I couldn’t name but couldn’t pull away from either.

His breath brushed against my cheek, making my already light head spin further. 

I wanted to speak, to apologize and pull away but I couldn’t move. I wanted him to let me go yet a part of me didn’t. 

A strange, inexplicable part of me wanted him to hold me there a little longer.

“Veronica…”

The sound of my name in his deep, velvety voice echoed through me, vibrating against the edges of my fading consciousness.

And that was the last thing I heard before the darkness swallowed me whole.