February 11, 20JC
They said alcohol could help you forget. That if you drank enough, the pain would eventually disappear. Videl Fredericks did not know if it was true, but tonight she was desperate enough to try. She had never drunk before. She had never needed to. But tonight was different.
She sat alone in a dim corner of the bar, the noise around her distant and meaningless. Her chest felt unbearably heavy, as if something was crushing her from the inside. With trembling fingers, she lifted the glass before her.
A hollow smile touched her lips.
"Happy birthday, Videl," she whispered.
She tipped the glass back and swallowed the liquor in one go. It burned her throat, bitter and harsh, leaving no warmth behind.
That day was supposed to be her happiest day of the year. Her twenty-fifth birthday. Instead, it became the day her life fell apart.
The first blow struck like a thunderclap. Anthony Walker, the patriarch of the Walker family, was dead. The news had hit her so hard her mind went blank. Her ears rang, her heart thudded painfully, and she had stood frozen, unable to cry, unable to breathe. The man who had treated her like family, who had protected her and trusted her, was gone.
She had not even finished mourning when the second blow followed, barely hours later.
Eric Walker, her fiance came home with his ex-girlfriend, Pamela Brooks, clinging to his arm. In front of the household staff, he calmly announced that Pamela was pregnant with his child. The words tore through Videl's chest, leaving her breathless and numb.
Then came the third blow.
She was thrown out of the Walker family home with a cheque for two hundred thousand, dismissed as if she were nothing more than a disposable stranger.
The memories flooded back as Videl downed her second glass. Her face was flushed now, her head light, but the pain refused to fade.
"Miss," the bartender said carefully, concern evident. "You've had quite a bit. Maybe slow down?"
Videl waved him off impatiently. "Spare me your fake sympathy and get me another glass."
The bartender hesitated, then poured another drink.
Just as Videl lifted the glass, it was snatched from her hand, liquid spilling onto the counter.
"Hey," she snapped. "How dare you…"
Her words faded when she looked up.
The man before her was tall, well over six feet, his presence commanding without effort. His suit was immaculate, his expression unreadable. When their eyes met, she froze.
"Mr. Dixon?" she whispered.
Dawn Dixon. CEO of Dixon Enterprise Inc. Eric Walker's biggest business rival. A man she had met before at high society galas when she was still Eric's fiancée.
He frowned at her. "What are you doing here? Since when do you drink?"
"That's none of your business," Videl replied sharply, reaching for the glass. "Give it back."
Dawn moved it out of reach. "You're leaving."
Before she could protest, he took her arm and led her out. Videl did not resist. She followed him numbly into his car and stared out the window as the city lights blurred past.
"The last time we met," Dawn said quietly, "you told me you don't drink."
"I just wanted to forget," she replied softly.
He waited.
"He betrayed me," Videl continued, her voice shaking. "After everything I did for him. I stayed when his company went bankrupt. I took care of him when his ex destroyed his life. I loved him. I gave him everything." Tears slipped down her cheeks. "And he threw me away like trash."
Dawn's jaw tightened. He felt a sharp, unfamiliar ache in his chest as he watched her cry.
"You didn't deserve that," he said firmly. "But alcohol won't help. It only makes the pain worse."
Videl turned to him, her eyes red and glistening. "Then can you make me forget?"
Before he could respond, she leaned closer and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Videl," he warned. "You are not thinking clearly."
She kissed him.
Dawn froze in shock. In the front seat, the driver discreetly raised the partition.
Dawn pulled back, his breath uneven. "You don't want to do this."
"I do," she whispered.
He hesitated, eyes dark, restraint battling desire. Finally, he leaned close, his voice low and serious.
"Don't regret this."