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Novel Catalog
Chapter 14
Veronica couldn’t think of anyone besides the Larsons who would go to such lengths to protect a murderer. But who could have guessed that the driver they had saved would end up silenced and dead? In retrospect, Veronica should’ve seen it coming. The Larsons’ ruthlessness had always been apparent—silencing a potential witness was the best way to protect themselves. Now, she was left without any leads, and worse yet, the Larsons were aware of her investigation into the driver.
If they found out she knew the truth… would she be the next to disappear?
Her heart hammered in her chest at the thought. It was a terrifying realization. Veronica had no choice but to keep quiet. She couldn’t let her adoptive parents know what she was doing. They’d already been through so much, and she wouldn’t add more pain to their lives.
After a three-day break, Veronica returned to work, doing her best to stay under the radar of the Larsons. She visited her adoptive mother in the hospital, doing what she could for her without drawing attention. She kept her head down, avoided the Larsons, and adhered to her “doctor’s orders”—no alcohol, plenty of rest. But secretly, she poured her savings into hiring a new private investigator to continue her search for answers about her parents’ car accident.
A month passed in relative silence.
Then, one day, Veronica took a break from her busy schedule to visit the hospital for a routine check-up. The results came back good—she was healthy.
Matthew, however, was getting updates on her condition as well.
“Miss Murphy underwent an ultrasound,” the hospital staff told him over the phone. “The fetus is over two months old and developing well.”
Matthew frowned. “But she showed signs of a miscarriage. She’s been delivering takeout every day. That can’t be good for her.”
The nurse on the other end reassured him, “Miss Murphy is strong. She comes from a farming village, so she’s used to hard work. She isn’t as frail as most women in her condition.”
Matthew took a deep breath, his concern not fully alleviated but grudgingly accepting that perhaps she was tougher than he had assumed.
Night fell, and the Twilight Club buzzed to life. People—young men and women, tired from their daily grind—flocked to the club to unwind. The neon lights bathed the room in an almost surreal glow as they drank and danced, trying to escape the weight of their lives.
As Veronica watched from the corner of the club, her mind drifted. She couldn’t help but wonder what her life would’ve been like if the Larsons hadn’t interfered. She might have gone back to her hometown, opened a bar with the money she had saved up, or maybe a small grocery store. She could have lived a simple, quiet life.
The thought gnawed at her, but she shook it off. There was no time for regrets now.
She had just begun to take a quiet moment for herself when her walkie-talkie crackled to life.
“Big Ron, come to the men’s washroom, quick,” came the voice of Cody, one of the other security guards.
“The men’s washroom?” Veronica groaned. “Why would I go there? I’m a woman.”
“Come on, Big Ron. Xavier asked for you by name. He’s in there, and no one else is around. Just come.”
“Xavier, again? Fine, I’ll be there in a second.” She rolled her eyes and clipped the walkie-talkie to her waist as she started toward the washrooms.
When she arrived, the other guards greeted her, their faces full of teasing.
“Please, hurry inside. Young Master Xavier’s slumped over by the toilet and won’t get up.”
“Oh, he asked for you, Big Ron,” another guard teased. “Maybe this is your big chance to climb up the totem pole.”
Veronica kicked Cody lightly as she passed him. “Who are you calling a wage slave?”
Cody winced. “Oops, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re going places.”
She waved him off with a grin, signaling for him and the others to get back to their rounds.
When she entered the men’s washroom, the first thing she saw was Xavier sitting slumped against the toilet, vomiting into the waste bin. He was a mess, his face pale and sweaty.
Xavier Crawford, second son of the Crawford family, known for his good looks and his total lack of direction in life. He was a walking cliché—charming, handsome, but completely useless. His reputation as a hedonist and his numerous failed love affairs made him a joke in Bloomstead. But Veronica knew him in a different way—through an altercation that had changed their dynamic completely.
It all started not long after she began working at Twilight Club. Xavier had been picking on Cody, another security guard. Veronica couldn’t stand it and, in a burst of impulsive anger, grabbed a bottle from the table, smashed it, and threatened him with the jagged edge. “Cody’s one of mine,” she’d said, “Try laying a finger on him again, and I’ll make sure you regret it.”
Xavier, amused, had offered her a challenge. “If you can drink this entire bottle of vodka in one go, I’ll let him go.”
Without hesitation, Veronica had downed the bottle, her liver accustomed to years of heavy drinking with her adoptive father. From that moment on, the guards saw her in a new light, and even Xavier had taken a liking to her. They often drank together, and, over time, they formed a weird sort of friendship. The guards affectionately began calling her “Big Ron.”
“Urk…” Xavier’s voice broke through her thoughts as he vomited again. Veronica grimaced, holding her nose.
With a swift motion, she tapped him on the shoulder with her electric baton. “If you’re this drunk, go home. Sitting in a toilet isn’t doing anyone any favors.”
Xavier, wiping his mouth with a wad of tissue, looked up at her, a grin spreading across his face. “Help me up,” he said, extending a hand.
“I’m worried I’ll get dirty,” Veronica said, her expression deadpan. “Use the baton.”
Grumbling, Xavier grabbed the baton and hoisted himself up. He staggered to the sink, where he splashed water on his face. Veronica leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching him.
“Which fair lady dumped you this time?” she teased, her voice dry.
Xavier chuckled bitterly as he glanced at himself in the mirror. “Does everyone think I’m a loser?”
Veronica frowned. She wasn’t used to this kind of seriousness from him. “You’re drunk,” she replied, taking a tissue from the dispenser and handing it to him. “Go sleep it off.”
But Xavier didn’t take the tissue. Instead, he turned toward her, a strange intensity in his gaze. Before she could react, he grabbed her arms and pressed her against the wall, pinning her in place.
“Roni,” he slurred, his breath heavy with alcohol, “you’re the only one who treats me differently. After all this time… Date me.”
Veronica pushed against his chest, her face twisted with disbelief. “Are you out of your mind? I haven’t knocked your teeth out in a while, but if you don’t get off me—”
Suddenly, a cough echoed from the doorway.
Veronica froze, her eyes snapping to the figure standing in the entrance.
Matthew.
Her heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to do. Then, it hit her. She wasn’t tied to Matthew anymore. No baby, no strings.
With a forced calm, she raised an eyebrow and said, “Oh, what a coincidence. Here to use the washroom too?”
Xavier turned, unfazed, and greeted Matthew casually, but Veronica’s mind raced. Why was Matthew here? He hardly ever came down to check on the club. Yet, here he was, and the last person he expected to find in the men’s washroom was her, tangled up with Xavier of all people.
