Tossed Whiskey at a hot guy

Veronica's POV:

I assumed the brothers were actually coming toward us… That’s how it looked.

But unfortunately, they were immediately surrounded by all the young women in the room. Well, all except for Penny and me… we were just watching them.

“They’re the Ashfords,” Penny whispered in my ear. “They are the ‘Billionaire Brothers’... You know, my family’s law firm handles some of their cases.”

“Oh… the Ashfords!” I blurted out, finally recalling where I’d heard that name before.

The Ashfords were mortal rivals of Chase.

I remembered how many times Chase would curse the Ashfords, claiming they had allegedly purchased shares to overthrow his company. And every time he got stressed over it, I would comfort him with hot soup and soft words.

Now, I completely cringe at that memory. Wasted effort. On a toxic man.

I’m just glad the alcohol is calming my nerves, keeping me from feeling hurt.

“You know, the one with tattoos and long dark hair… that’s Maximilian Ashford,” Penny continued. “He’s a hardcore player in Manhattan’s elite circles. All he does is party and do drugs.”

“You didn’t have to say that. It is too obvious!” I said, watching the way he charmed and flirted with every girl in the crowd, giving off a typical bad-boy energy.

“And the one who looks decent and blonde… that’s Theodore Ashford. I’ve spoken with him twice… he’s really smart. He already has several successful startups and even dabbles in venture capitalism.”

I raised a brow at her. “Still, he must have gotten daddy’s money to fund it all.”

“Not at all,” she said, shaking her head. “Theodore never took a penny from his father. He built and scaled everything on his own. He’s really that intelligent.”

“Is that so?” I blinked, feeling intrigued.

I sipped my drink and glanced at him again.

Theodore, unlike his brother Maximilian, didn’t seem even slightly bothered by all those girls. He stood a little apart from the crowd… too calm, composed… and I couldn’t help but admire his handsome face, those striking green eyes that somehow looked both sharp and kind.

Then I realized those very green eyes were actually looking at me.

“Hi…” Theodore mouthed, waving his hand.

I found myself smiling faintly and waving back at him. And just like that, I felt something bloom in my heart… the same heart I thought was too broken ever to feel again.

Maximilian, the dark-haired one, seemed to notice that. He immediately pushed away the girls standing in his path and strode toward us with effortless confidence.

“Veronica Whitmore,” he said in a deep tone that made my heartbeat skip as I looked up into his piercing blue eyes… that contrasted sharply with his shoulder-length dark hair and the tattoos inked along his neck.

I’d been so caught up with Chase all my life that I’d never actually met a stereotypical bad-boy in person. Still, I completely understood why girls were drawn to them… they carried a kind of raw, fiery charm that was almost impossible to resist.

But when he suddenly grabbed my hand and said, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person,” an unexpected jolt shot through me. I instinctively jerked my hand back, startled by the intensity of his touch.

"Don't touch me!" The words come out sharper than I intended. And the girls standing behind, who were previously looking at me enviously, were now gasping in surprise.

"Whoa, easy there—"

"Max, back off." The blonde one intervenes smoothly, placing a restraining hand on his brother's shoulder. "Christ, you can't just grab a woman's hand without asking first.. What's wrong with you?"

Max releases me immediately, but that infuriating smirk never leaves his face. "Relax, Theo. I was just being friendly."

He studies me with those electric blue eyes, as if I were a fascinating puzzle he wants to solve. "Usually women don't mind when I touch them—"

"Usually?" I cut him off, the alcohol making me bold and reckless. "Let me guess… You think you can flatter everyone… and expect all the girls to just melt into puddles at your feet?"

His eyebrows shoot up, clearly not expecting the bite in my voice.

"Well, congratulations," I continue, my tone dripping with sarcasm, "you've just met the one girl in Manhattan who isn't impressed by your whole 'mysterious bad-boy act."

Max raises one dark brow that's arched like a devil's, and I can tell it's not natural… he purposely trims his eyebrows to look fierce.

Then he throws his head back and laughs. "God, I love a woman with claws," he says, leaning back against the bar with predatory grace. His tattooed fingers drum against the expensive watch he wore. "Most girls just giggle and blush when I talk to them. This is... refreshing."

I want to slap that arrogant smirk right off his stupidly handsome face.

"Jesus, Max." Theo steps forward. "I'm so sorry about him," he says to me, his voice gentle and genuinely apologetic. "He thinks charm means bulldozing through every conversation." He extends his hand with careful deliberation, waiting for my permission rather than demanding it, unlike his brother. "I'm Theodore Ashford. The one with actual manners."

Max snorts. "Boring manners."

"And this caveman," Theodore continues with practiced patience, "is unfortunately my older brother, Maximilian. Though most people just call him Max. Or 'that asshole,' depending on the day."

That actually pulls a reluctant smile from me, and I find myself accepting Theodore's handshake. His grip is firm but respectful… nothing like his brother's forced grab.

"So now that you know us, we'd like to make a proposal," Maximilian Ashford said.

“We know through our secret sources that you’ve broken up with Chase Pemberton on very bitter terms. So, you must be anticipating revenge, aren’t you?”

I blinked at him. Secret sources? That could only mean they’d been spying on Chase for business reasons… and somehow, I’d gotten caught in their radar.

I felt my temper rising. They couldn’t just pry into other people’s personal lives like that.

Then Theodore Ashford, the blonde one, says, "So we'd like to have you on our team."

I looked at both brothers for a few seconds before letting out a soft chuckle. “What makes you two think I’m after revenge? Or that I’d team up with a pair of opportunists who spy on other people’s’ love’ lives?”

Max’s smile turned wickedly amused. He leaned back against the bar, completely at ease… as if settling in to enjoy a show. “Oh, darling,” he drawled, his voice dripping with mock sympathy, “don’t tell me you actually had a ‘love’ life with Chase Pemberton.”

My jaw drops. "What did you just say?"

"Come now, sweetheart. Let's not pretend this is about love, shall we? You saw Chase Pemberton… young, wealthy, powerful... and you thought, 'Perfect. My ticket to the high life."

"You don't know what you're talking about," I breathe, but my voice sounds weak even to my own ears.

Max's grin widens, revealing perfect white teeth. "Oh, but I do. Three years of playing his housewife, cooking his meals, pressing his shirts... Tell me, love, what exactly were you expecting in return? A fairy tale ending? Or perhaps a nice fat bank account, and a successful businessman to join your daddy’s business with him so that your combined net worth will soar even higher.”

Each word is like a blade, cutting deeper than the last. He's enjoying this… the way my face flushes, the way my hands shake.

"The truth is," he continues with devastating casualness, "you're no different from us. The only difference is we're honest about what we want, while you... Well, you dress it up as love. Just accept that you are a gold-digger..."

Something inside me snaps.

The humiliation, Chase's hurtful words echoing in my head, and now this arrogant bastard reducing me to this level.

"You son of a bitch," I snarl, and before I can think twice, I grab my glass and hurl the amber liquid directly at his smug face.

The whiskey hit him square in the jaw, soaking into his probably five-thousand-dollar white shirt before dripping down onto the tattoos along his neck.

The entire bar goes silent, with shocked gazes.

But only I know my feelings. Nurturing a toxic man out of love, only to be called boring, a maid, and now a gold-digger.

"We're so sorry. My friend didn't really mean it. Excuse us," Penny grabs my hand. "We're leaving."

She drags me to the ladies' room and says, "V, just get yourself together. It looked like they were only trying to offer you something."

"I don't need any help. Especially not from that arrogant Maximilian."

Then I realized it was time to talk to my father and tell him the truth… before he heard it from someone... the cat was already out of the bag.

*****

That night, I moved back into my personal penthouse… back to the life I had lived three years ago.

I was too tired to move things around or even unpack my bags.

The next morning, I'm too hungover to do anything. I'm lying on the couch with an ice pack on my head, feeling my throbbing skull get some relief from the cold.

Then my dad came to visit me… even before I was about to call him. He rarely visits me in my penthouse. Usually, it's I who goes to our mansion that is outside Manhattan. Perhaps he already got the bad news through other sources.

My father is dressed in a black suit, as always, with his graying hair and the serious expression he perpetually wears. He's never been one to show affection openly, but I've never made it an issue since I know he's just authoritative… deep down, he cares for me and Mom.

"Pathetic," my Dad shouts, with an angry look at me. "After creating all that drama, you got yourself wasted last night. You should be ashamed of yourself.”