Veronica's POV:
“That is enough,” my father thundered, his voice slicing through the café like a whip.
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 was 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,
