The crowded corporate hallway parted like the Red Sea as Niall Crystal glided through Dennis Pinnacle. Veronica watched from her office doorway as her half-sister commanded the attention of everyone around her without saying a word. Senior executives who barely acknowledged Veronica's existence were practically falling over themselves to impress Niall.
"Did you know she races professionally under the name 'ROCK'?" one manager whispered excitedly to another.
"I heard she has a doctorate from Oxford at just twenty-five," another added with undisguised awe.
Veronica felt the familiar twist of resentment in her stomach. Of course Niall would excel at everything—their father, Isaac Crystal, had made sure of it. While Veronica and her mother had been abandoned and left to struggle, Isaac had poured his fortune and connections into making Niall extraordinary.
When Niall passed by Veronica's office, their eyes met for a fraction of a second. No acknowledgment, no nod—just cool indifference, as if Veronica were merely another corporate fixture, not her half-sister or the wife of the man she was involved with.
Veronica's phone buzzed, mercifully breaking the moment. Whitney's name flashed on the screen.
"Veronica," Whitney's voice was slurred. "I'm so sorry to bother you, but I need help."
"Whitney? Are you okay?" Concern immediately replaced her earlier bitterness.
"I'm at The Meridian… had too much to drink at lunch. They won't let me drive… Can you come get me?"
"Stay there. I'll be right over."
Veronica grabbed her purse, grateful for the excuse to escape the suffocating atmosphere of Dennis Pinnacle. As she headed toward the elevator, she caught sight of Cullen emerging from a conference room, his hand possessively placed on the small of Niall's back. The intimate gesture, displayed so openly in his corporate domain, spoke volumes about how dramatically things had changed.
Not long ago, Cullen had insisted they keep their marriage low-profile at work to "maintain professional boundaries." Now, he publicly flaunted his relationship with Niall as if daring anyone to question it.
Veronica slipped into the elevator unseen, letting out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
The Meridian was one of those upscale establishments where business deals were made over $200 bottles of wine. Veronica stepped through the ornate entrance, scanning the dimly lit interior for her friend.
"Your friend is in the private lounge," the host informed her with a sympathetic smile. "She's… resting."
Veronica found Whitney slumped in a plush booth, her designer suit rumpled and her makeup slightly smudged.
"Ver!" Whitney's face brightened. "My savior arrives!"
"How much did you have to drink?" Veronica asked, sliding into the booth beside her.
"Too much," Whitney admitted. "Client lunch. They ordered bottles of champagne to celebrate closing the Henderson deal."
Veronica signaled for the check. "Let's get you home," Veronica said quietly. "I'm divorcing him." Whitney's mouth fell open in shock.
Suddenly, familiar voices drifted from around the corner. Veronica froze, recognizing the high, excited tones of her daughter.
"I missed you so much, Niall! Dad said we couldn't tell anyone we were coming back early because it was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday!"
Veronica's heart plummeted. Sabrina was here? Cullen had told her that morning that Sabrina was at school—a blatant lie.
Carefully, Veronica peered around the divider separating the booths. There sat her daughter, beaming with happiness as she handed a small package to Niall. Cullen wasn't visible, but several of his close friends, including Nate Dante, surrounded the table.
"I made this for you!" Sabrina exclaimed, bouncing slightly in her seat. "Dad helped me, but I designed it myself."
Niall opened the box with delicate fingers, pulling out a handcrafted necklace. "Sa, this is absolutely beautiful!"
"It's got your birthstone!" Sabrina explained proudly. "Dad said it matches your eyes."
Veronica's chest constricted painfully. They had made a birthday gift together for Niall. The three of them had returned early specifically for Niall's birthday. Meanwhile, Veronica's own birthday just last week had passed without acknowledgment from either of them.
"Where's your dad now?" Niall asked, fastening the necklace around her neck.
"Parking the car. He'll be here any minute. He has another present for you, but he said that one's private."
The group laughed, and Niall felt her face burn. The implication was crystal clear, even to her seven-year-old daughter.
As if on cue, Cullen appeared at the entrance to the private dining area, his expression softening as he laid eyes on Niall. It was a look Veronica had never seen directed at her—tender, unguarded, filled with genuine affection.
"Happy birthday," he said simply, bending down to place a kiss on Niall's cheek. The intimacy of the gesture, performed so naturally in front of their daughter, made Veronica's stomach clench.
She ducked back behind the divider, pressing a hand to her mouth to stifle any sound. All her suspicions were confirmed in this one cruel tableau: they were a family—Cullen, Sabrina, and Niall. Veronica was the outsider, the unwelcome reminder of an obligation Cullen resented.
"Ver? You okay?" Whitney's bleary eyes focused on her with concern.
"I need to get out of here," Veronica whispered, helping Whitney to her feet. "Now."
They made their way toward the exit, Veronica steering them around the long way to avoid being seen. At the elevator, she punched the down button repeatedly, desperate to escape before—
She turned to find Nate Dante staring at her in surprise, his eyes darting between her and Whitney.
"Hello, Nate," she replied, struggling to keep her voice steady.
"I didn't expect to see you here," he said, his tone suggesting she was the last person he wanted to encounter. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Were you looking for Cullen?"
The elevator doors opened, and Veronica guided Whitney inside. "No, just helping a friend," she said quietly. "Enjoy your celebration."
As the doors closed, Nate's confused expression was replaced by dawning comprehension—and pity. That look stung more than anything else.
Veronica helped Whitney into the elevator, stung by the look of pity on Nate's face. This was her reality now—witnessing her husband and daughter's devotion to another woman while being reduced to an object of sympathy in the eyes of his friends.