The weekend passed without a single call from Sabrina. She was clearly enjoying herself too much in Niall's company to remember their friendship. Veronica couldn't say she was surprised, but the silence still stung more than she cared to admit.

Monday morning brought the familiar routine of DataPulse. Veronica buried herself in work, letting the steady rhythm of deadlines and meetings drown out the noise in her head. As closing time approached, her phone buzzed with a text from Whitney suggesting dinner at their usual place downtown.

The restaurant buzzed with conversation and clinking silverware. Veronica found herself relaxing for the first time in days, laughing at Whitney's stories about her latest dating disasters. Halfway through the meal, she excused herself to visit the restroom.

The narrow hallway leading to the back of the restaurant felt quieter, almost intimate. As she rounded the corner, a familiar figure emerged from the men's room. Marco Valerie stood there, adjusting his cufflinks with that same meticulous precision she remembered.

Veronica kept walking, her heels clicking against the polished floor. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of acknowledgment. Not after everything.

But Marco stopped moving entirely. She felt his gaze burning into her back, heavy and deliberate. Every instinct told her to keep walking, but something about his stillness made her skin prickle with awareness.

When she emerged from the restroom minutes later, he hadn't moved. He stood exactly where she'd passed him, shoulders squared, hands clasped behind his back like a soldier at attention. The sight of him waiting sent an unwelcome flutter through her chest.

Their eyes met across the dim hallway. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension.

"Having dinner?" His voice was carefully neutral, but she caught the slight roughness beneath the polished exterior.

The question hung between them like a challenge. He'd positioned himself perfectly in her path, making it impossible to ignore him this time.

"Obviously." Her tone could have frozen water. She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with steel in her own. "Or are you going to accuse me of stalking you again, Mr. Valerie?"

Something flickered across his features. Regret, maybe. Or surprise at her directness.

"That wasn't my intention." The words came out softer than she expected, almost vulnerable.

Veronica didn't want to hear his explanations or parse the meaning behind his carefully chosen words. She'd spent too many nights already dissecting every interaction they'd had.

Without another glance, she stepped around him and walked away. This time, he didn't try to stop her.

Back at the table, Whitney was scrolling through her phone, completely absorbed. "Everything okay? You look flushed."

"Fine. Ready to go?"

They left the restaurant and walked three blocks to Meridian Fine Jewelry, where Whitney wanted to find the perfect birthday gift for her mother. The boutique glowed with warm lighting that made every gemstone sparkle like captured starlight.

Whitney gravitated immediately toward an elegant emerald necklace displayed in the center case. The stones were a deep, mesmerizing green that seemed to shift and dance under the lights.

"This is perfect," Whitney breathed, leaning closer to examine the intricate setting. "Mom always said emeralds were her favorites."

The store manager, a distinguished man in his fifties, approached with a professional smile. "Excellent choice. This piece just came in from our European collection."

As Whitney began discussing details and pricing, the front door chimed. A voice drifted across the showroom, polished and confident.

"Good evening. I'm here to collect my custom order."

Veronica's blood turned to ice. She'd recognize that voice anywhere, even after months of silence.

"Mr. Crystal!" The store owner's face lit up with recognition. "Your piece turned out beautifully. Let me get it from the back."

Isaac Crystal stood near the entrance, impeccably dressed as always. His silver hair was perfectly styled, his Italian suit tailored to perfection. He looked every inch the successful businessman he'd always been.

Their eyes met across the showroom. For a moment, neither moved. Then Isaac's expression shifted from surprise to something that might have been hope.

He approached slowly, as if she were a wild animal that might bolt. "Veronica. I didn't expect to see you here."

She said nothing, focusing instead on the way the emeralds caught the light. Anything to avoid looking at him directly.

"Are you shopping for something special?" His voice carried that familiar paternal warmth that had once made her feel safe and loved.

Veronica's jaw tightened. She wouldn't let him pretend they were just a normal father and daughter having a casual conversation.

Whitney glanced between them, clearly sensing the tension. She leaned closer to Veronica and whispered, "Who is that?"

Veronica ignored the question. Isaac wasn't going anywhere, though. He stood there patiently, waiting for her to acknowledge him.

Finally, she lifted her head and met his gaze. "What do you want, Isaac?"

"Veronica." His voice carried a note of disappointment. "Is that how you speak to your father?"

"How should I speak to you?" Each word dripped with barely contained fury. "Like you actually deserve my respect?"

Isaac's composed expression flickered. "I know I've made mistakes, sweetheart. But I've always cared about you. Everything I do is because I love you and want what's best."

The laugh that escaped her was sharp and bitter. "Oh, absolutely. That's why you encouraged Niall to get cozy with my husband. That's why you told Cullen to take such good care of her. Because you love me so much."

"Veronica, please try to understand." Isaac's voice took on a pleading quality. "Niall and Cullen have genuine feelings for each other. You can't force love where it doesn't exist naturally."

"You're absolutely right." Veronica's smile was razor-sharp. "Love can't be forced. Just like when you decided to have an affair all those years ago. And now your precious daughter is following in her mother's footsteps, playing the role of mistress with such pride. How wonderfully consistent."

Isaac's face darkened, the mask of paternal concern slipping. "When did you become so unreasonable?"

"Unreasonable?" Veronica stepped closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Would I be more reasonable if I divorced Cullen immediately and cleared the path for Niall? Is that what would make you happy?"

Before Isaac could respond, the boutique door opened again. Two familiar figures stepped inside, their laughter cutting through the tension like glass.

Aurora saw Veronica first, her perfectly painted smile faltering for just a moment before recovering. "Isaac, darling, what's taking so long?"