Virgin At 25 Chapter 80: A TOAST TO TROUBLE

Novel: Virgin At 25 Author: Kessta Updated:
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I got ho straight from the eting, I didn’t even think of going back to the office... My entire body felt heavy, my thoughts tangled.

The mory of Victor Langley’s words still echoed in my head...

I like you, Sharon. I want you.

I locked the door behind , dropped my bag, and sank onto the couch. My hands were trembling.

I picked up my phone and dialed Maxie.

No answer.

I tried again... Still nothing.

"Co on, Max," I whispered, my voice shaky. "Please pick up."

But the line kept going to voicemail.

With a heavy sigh, I dropped my phone on the table and rubbed my temples, trying to calm myself. That was when my phone buzzed again, an incoming call.

Beatrice...

I hesitated, then picked up, forcing my tone to sound normal. "Hey, Bea."

"Hey, Sharon!" Beatrice’s voice was bright and smooth. "How have you been? You sound... off."

"I’m fine," I lied quickly.

"Hmm. Doesn’t sound like it." Beatrice chuckled softly. "Co out with . Let’s get so food. You’ll feel better."

I shook my head even though Beatrice couldn’t see . "No, I’m not in the mood tonight. I just... I’m tired."

"Co on, just a little al. You can’t stay locked up forever."

"I said no, Bea. Maybe another ti."

Beatrice went quiet for a mont, her tone turning soft. "Okay, no problem then."

Just as she was about to hang up, I blurted out, "Wait... where are you?"

A playful laugh ca from the other end. "That’s the spirit, girl. I’m at this new local restaurant that just opened nearby. Co join ... I’ll text you the location."

A few minutes later, I was standing outside the restaurant. The place was cozy, filled with the scent of grilled food and laughter. Beatrice waved her over to a corner table.

"There you are!" Beatrice grinned, sliding a drink toward . "You look like you need this."

"I shouldn’t," I murmured, sitting down. "I just need to clear my head."

"Exactly," Beatrice said with a wink. "And that’s what this is for."

One glass turned into two. Then three. The warmth of the alcohol dulled my thoughts, blurring the day’s sharp edges.

Beatrice kept the conversation light, gossip, work, jokes. But soon, she leaned in, her voice lowering. "So... what’s really bothering you, Sharon?"

I sighed, my voice slurred slightly. "It’s just... Ace’s father."

Beatrice froze for a split second but quickly masked it with a sympathetic smile. "His father?"

I nodded, my eyes glassy. "I t him today... for a eting. But he... he said things. Weird things. I just wanted to talk about work, but..." I trailed off, shaking my head.

Beatrice’s expression didn’t change, but her eyes glead. "What things did he say?"

I laughed bitterly, a tear escaping the corner of my eye. "He said he liked . Like I was so kind of toy he could just have."

Beatrice’s hand tightened around her glass. So it’s true, she thought.

As my words grew less coherent, Beatrice reached over and gently pulled my phone closer. The screen lit up. Ace.

Beatrice’s gaze flicked toward Sharon. "You’re not answering, it’s a call from my boss I never knew you both were close?"

I groaned softly and turned the phone face down. "I can’t talk to him right now. Not like this."

Beatrice smiled faintly, pretending concern. "You sure?"

I nodded, my head drooping slightly... The room started spinning. After that, everything was a blur...

When the call ended, Beatrice stared at the screen, Ace’s na still there in the call log. Just as she was about to snoop further, the phone buzzed again.

This ti, she answered.

"Where are you?" Ace’s voice was low, clipped with worry.

Beatrice’s lips curved. "Relax, she’s safe. We’re at a restaurant near Greenview Street. She’s had a little too much to drink."

There was silence. Then Ace said coldly, "I’m on my way."

When he arrived, it didn’t take long for him to spot Sharon and on Sharon’s end, even through her haze, she recognized that familiar tall fra and that sharp, unreadable expression.

"Talk of the devil," Sharon mumbled, smiling drunkenly.

Ace crossed the room in a few long strides. His eyes flicked from Beatrice to Sharon, then settled coldly on Beatrice for a brief mont.

"She’s drunk sir," Beatrice said smoothly. "I thought she needed so air."

Ace didn’t reply. He just helped Sharon to her feet, steadying her gently. "Let’s go."

Sharon looked back at Beatrice, waving clumsily. "Bye, Bea..."

Beatrice only smiled, her chin propped on her hand as she watched them leave.

When the door closed behind them, her smile faded.

She picked up her drink again, swirling the liquid slowly.

"Looks like Diana will want to hear about this," she murmured.

Sharon’s head leaned against the car window, the city lights blurring into streaks of gold and white. Her breath ca out in uneven sighs, soft and slurred. When they got ho and Ace carried her inside, she mumbled sothing he couldn’t quite catch words tangled in half-sob, half-laughter.

He set her down gently on the couch, pulling the throw blanket over her shoulders. But the mont he turned to leave, she reached out, fingers brushing against his sleeve.

"Why’re you angry?" she slurred, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t... didn’t an to drink that much."

Ace’s jaw tightened. "You shouldn’t have gone out like that. You didn’t even tell where you were."

Sharon blinked slowly, her gaze unfocused. "Your father..." she muttered, her tone trembling. "He... he said... he likes . No, that’s not it. He said things... things that made scared, Ace. Your family... they just want to make life a living hell for ."

Ace froze, the color draining from his face. "What?"

She gave a lazy smile, eyes glassy and tired. "Don’t worry," she murmured, resting her hand on his chest. "I’ll stand with you... no matter what."

Then her hand slipped, and she was out, asleep before he could even respond.

For a long mont, Ace just stood there, staring down at her sleeping form, the weight of her words pressing into his chest.

His throat tightened as he whispered under his breath,

"You an... my dad?"

And the room fell silent.

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