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Novel Catalog
Chapter 66
After Veronica’s sharp words, she shot Matthew a cutting look.
Seated on the couch, Matthew frowned, studying her intently.
An orgy?
He didn’t understand why she had said such a thing, but it was obvious that she had misunderstood something—perhaps everything. His eyes narrowed in confusion, but he couldn’t be bothered to clarify it right now.
Silently, he scooted to the center of the couch, tapping the butt of his cigarette against the ashtray. He’d already lost the energy to stop her from drowning her sorrows in alcohol.
Meanwhile, Veronica staggered over to the table with a few bottles of wine, her movements unsteady, and started pouring herself glass after glass. As she drank, she cursed him loudly, her words dripping with bitterness.
“You’re a son of a b*tch. How could I have fallen to this point if it wasn’t for you? I hate you,” she spat.
She finished her glass and poured herself another. “I’m going to drink all of your wine and make you go broke. You’re a d*chebag, just like Tiffany. Shameless, despicable capitalists who stop at nothing to get what they want. I hate you. I hate you…”
Her words were slurred, and despite her flushed face and the alcohol clouding her mind, she kept at it, her insults relentless.
With a heavy sigh, Matthew crushed his cigarette in the ashtray, his face hardening. He stood up and grabbed the wine bottle from her hand. “I’ll take you to rest,” he said, his voice firm but not without a touch of annoyance.
Though she hadn’t explained what had happened, he could tell she wasn’t in a good place. It was why he had allowed her to vent her anger earlier, but now, enough was enough. She had been drinking for far too long this early in the morning.
“I… Hic! I don’t want to…” she mumbled in protest, trying to squirm away.
Ignoring her protests, Matthew scooped her up into his arms. She struggled against him, kicking and hitting him in the chest with her hands, but he didn’t let go.
“Put me down, you b*stard!” she yelled. “If you touch me again, I’ll… I’ll castrate you!”
At the word “castrate,” Matthew’s gaze darkened. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, the anger he had been keeping at bay surged up, his irritation crackling like electricity in the air. But he didn’t argue with a drunken woman. He simply carried her toward the bedroom, his face set in a grimace.
“Son of a btch! You’re all sons of btches… You’re no different from the Larson family. I hate you all…” Veronica’s voice was muffled as she went on, cursing under her breath.
As he laid her down on the bed, she raised a hand, pretending to hold a glass of wine. “Come, another drink! A toast to you, Matthew Kings,” she slurred. “Cheers to you being impotent for the rest of your life. Cheers to your children and your grandchildren… Ha! Your children… and… grandchildren…”
With that, Veronica’s hand dropped. She rolled over and hugged the blanket, sinking into a deep sleep with a soft snore.
Matthew stood beside the bed, his fists clenched at his sides. He was furious—so much so that he tugged at the collar of his shirt in frustration, glaring down at the woman who had just insulted him to his face. Damn her, he thought. The miracle was that he could tolerate her raving like that.
There had been a moment when he wanted to punish her, to show her whether he was really impotent or not. He’d had enough.
But then, amidst the silence, he heard the soft sound of crying.
Matthew froze. He looked down at her trembling figure on the bed, the quiet sobs pulling at something deep inside him. Her pain, her sadness—it was suffocating, twisting around his chest and causing a hollow ache inside.
The feeling was unbearable.
He walked around to her side of the bed, kneeling down next to her. He reached for a few pieces of tissue and, in an uncharacteristic move, gently began wiping away the tears from her face.
“What’s the matter?” he asked quietly, his voice unexpectedly gentle.
His hand moved to rub her back in comfort, a soft motion that seemed to soothe the tension in her body.
Veronica’s sobs grew louder as she grabbed onto him, her face buried in his shirt. “The Larsons are such bullies, Mom! The b*stard Matthew is such a bully as well…”
Mom?
Matthew realized she was so drunk she couldn’t even recognize him anymore. The thought made his chest tighten, but he swallowed it down, offering her the only comfort he could.
“Don’t cry. There’s a good girl…” His voice was soothing, almost tender—something that would have shocked anyone who knew him.
If Thomas could see this, he’d probably have his jaw on the floor. Matthew Kings, the cold, ruthless businessman, was now speaking to Veronica with a softness that defied all logic.
“I can’t be good. If I am, I’ll be hurt. They’ll hurt me,” Veronica sobbed, her voice thick with the weight of her emotions.
Her head was buried in his embrace, her body shaking with each sob. She cried as though she had no more tears left, and somewhere between the tears, she fell into a restless, drunken sleep while still holding onto him.
For a long while, Matthew didn’t move. He held her as she slept, his fingers absentmindedly running through her hair, tracing the delicate curve of her face. His eyes lingered on her features, taking in the raw beauty even in her vulnerability.
With one hand, he gently traced her cheek with his fingers, and when he reached her lips, he couldn’t help but touch them, the soft sensation stirring something deep inside him.
Unable to resist the temptation, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.
Though the scent of alcohol still clung to her, he could taste the sweetness of her mouth, and for a fleeting moment, it felt unlike anything he’d experienced before.
“Mmph…” Veronica, in her sleep, instinctively raised her hand to smack his cheek, though her movement was completely accidental.
Matthew froze, glowering at her. The sudden burst of irritation flared inside him like a storm cloud ready to burst.
“D*mn you!” he muttered under his breath, his patience worn thin.
But then, once again, he kissed her—this time with a ferocity that left no room for gentleness. He parted her lips with his tongue, pushing deeper into her mouth, as if punishing her for the way she’d provoked him.
However, in the very next moment…
“Ugh…”
Veronica’s stomach churned, and she began to retch in her sleep, the discomfort seizing her body.
Matthew recoiled instantly, his body tense with frustration. He jumped off the bed and stood beside it, cursing under his breath. He tossed another blanket over her, covering her with an angry huff. He didn’t want to look at her face anymore.
But even as he tried to pull away, Veronica’s retching grew louder, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of frustration mixed with something deeper—something he couldn’t quite place.
With one final grunt, he picked her up carefully and carried her to the bathroom, her body limp in his arms. Once there, he deposited her in front of the toilet, and she immediately began to vomit, her body wracked with spasms.
The stench of it filled the entire bathroom, and Matthew could feel his patience slipping away. He flushed the toilet multiple times, growing more and more agitated with each passing moment.
But when he tried to let go of her, she began to topple forward, and he found himself once again holding her up, though every instinct in him told him to leave.
Damn her, he thought, clenching his jaw as he braced himself against the smell and the chaos. What have I gotten myself into?
