Chapter 28 Reputation
Veronica's POV:
“That is enough,” my father thundered, looking at me furiously.
Every muscle in my body locked. No matter how old I became, his tone still reduced me to that frightened little girl who could never do anything right.
“I am tired of your drama, Veronica,” he spat with eyes cold as steel. “If you don’t behave now, I swear I’ll start taking serious action against you.”
My mouth opened, but nothing came out. My throat felt stitched shut.
And then Chase stepped in, as if he were a perfect gentleman. “Mr. Whitmore,” he said gently, placing a hand on my father’s arm like some saintly mediator. “Please don’t raise your voice at your daughter. She’s just confused. How about we all sit together and talk this through like civilized people?”
I stared at him, stunned, at his ability to put on an act.
The waiter arrived to take our orders.
“Coffee? Latte? Iced tea?” he asked.
I couldn’t speak. My stomach churned so violently I thought I would be sick right there. My father and Chase, sitting side by side—like allies—felt like watching a nightmare crawl into daylight.
They ordered effortlessly. I said nothing. The waiter backed away awkwardly.
My father leaned forward, voice low and firm. “I am not going to say this again, Veronica. Come back home and marry Chase—just as we discussed. This is for your own good.”
A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “For my own good?” I repeated, incredulously. “Dad, forget me for a moment—why are you trusting Chase? I told you what he tried to do to me. What he actually did to me. And you dare to talk about what’s good for me?”
“Stop talking nonsense,” he snapped immediately. “Chase explained everything. And frankly, you’ve become so dramatic... It's obvious that you are the problem...” His eyes hardened. “You’re wasting my time, you’re wasting everyone’s time—running off, hiding with those Ashford boys. Acting like some… gigolo, parading between brothers. I know you’re doing all this just to punish me.”
My breath hitched. That was how he interpreted my pain?
At that moment—right there in that sunlit Malibu café—I realized something crushingly simple: My father would never see me. Never understand me. Never accept the truth—even if I carved it into stone.
He would twist everything into his own narrative. Even my heart—my very real, very messy, very human heart—was nothing but a 'trading goods' in his eyes, a problem to be solved.
He would never believe I could genuinely care for Theo, or genuinely desire Max. Or that I was genuinely torn between two men who meant something to me.
“Just leave the Ashfords out of this,” I said quietly, forcing my voice to stay steady.
My fingers trembled under the table, but my tone stayed flat and controlled. “They’re going through their own stuff… this issue is between us, not them. There’s no need to drag anyone into court or ruin everyone’s reputation.”
My father didn’t respond, but I saw the hesitation flicker across his face—as his greatest pride, and weakness, had always been reputation. If there was one language he understood, it was public image.
But before I could breathe a sigh of relief, Chase leaned forward, his tone was too much like a syrupy sweet. “Veronica, darling,” he said, giving my father the most innocent expression, “I understand you’re upset with me for some reason… but it’s a little unfair that you seem more worried about the Ashfords than about me—or your own father.” He said it deliberately, with the purpose of triggering my father's anger.
And I watched as his toxic words ignited something worse in my father.
“You—!” my father snapped, pointing at me so sharply I flinched. “So that’s why you’re running behind those boys? That’s why you’re hiding? Because you’re more loyal to some outsiders than your own blood? Shame on you.”
“Dad—”
“Don’t interrupt me!” he barked, loud enough that a few customers glanced over. “You’ve embarrassed me enough! You’ve brought shame to our name! First Chase, now two brothers? Two? Veronica, what kind of girl are you becoming?”
My throat constricted painfully. I could barely see through the tears burning in my eyes.
And then... I saw him. Chase was smiling, looking satisfied and victorious. As if destroying me was the easiest game he’d ever played.
Something inside me snapped. I straightened, wiped my tears with the back of my hand, and said clearly: “Only in your dreams will I ever marry Chase. And I never want to come back home. Do you even know how much I’ve tried, Dad? How much I begged for you to love me? How much I twisted myself into someone else just to get your approval? But you always... just criticize me.”
My voice wavered, but I didn’t look away.
And then—
“Mr. Whitmore.” The calmest, most grounding voice cut into the tension that was happening at our table.
It was Theo!
He sat at the table behind us... He'd come here with me and was watching everything, as I'd told him not to interfere, as I wanted to sort this out by myself, without disturbing him.
He walked toward us, composed, and every step firm but not aggressive.
“Mr. Whitmore,” he repeated gently, “forgive me for stepping in. I know it wasn’t my place. But I can’t sit here and watch this any longer.”
Theo… no, you weren’t supposed to interfere…
But even my father, who could intimidate anyone, didn’t interrupt him. Something about Theo’s presence, his aura, was demanding respect without trying.
“You have a completely wrong idea about your daughter,” Theo said, meeting my father’s eyes with unwavering sincerity. “I’ve built several successful startups — not using my father’s money, but my own work. I’ve worked with hundreds of sharp people. And I can tell you without hesitation that—Veronica is one of the brightest minds I’ve collaborated with.”
My father looked stunned, wondering how someone, even if it was just Theo... was even complimenting me. Of course, he had that very low opinion of me.
And Chase… he stared at Theo with simmering hatred.