Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol #1) Read Online Fiona Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Blame it on the Alcohol Series by Fiona Cole
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
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She stumbled back like her father’s words physically hit her.

“Verana.” I reached for her, but she held a hand up, warring me off.

“Was any of it true?”

She clutched her stomach and shook, on the verge of shattering right there, and I wanted to pull her in my arms and hold her together.

“I was going to tell you everything. Explain it all. I was going to give—”

“Would you do it while you seduced more information out of me? Would you use the way I care about you to get what you want?” she snarled.

Sucking in air through her nose, she pinched her eyes shut like she couldn’t bear to look at me.

“Verana, I never meant to hurt you.”

“Shut up,” she snapped, her eyes opening like a blazing fire. The hurt still lingered, but it was quickly being swallowed up by anger. “God, I trusted you.”

“You ca—”

“No. I cared for you. I thought you actually saw me—respected me—but it was all a lie. You’re just like everyone else. Only seeing what you can use me for. A liar. A user. I actually believed you when you praised my work.”

Lorenzo scoffed, and I wanted to punch him but fought the urge and kept my eyes on Vera.

“You know I see how smart you are.”

“I don’t know anything, Nicholas.”

“Please, come upstairs so we can talk about this without your father. You have to listen to me.”

I reached for her hands again, desperate to be connected to her any way I could, but she swiped her hand wide, slapping mine away.

“Fuck you,” she snarled. Her lip curled like an injured animal fighting off an attacker.

“Don’t worry, Verana. We’ll get this annulled. We can fix this.” Lorenzo tried to step close and reach his daughter, but she turned her feral attack on him next.

“Fuck you, too. Fuck both of you.”

She fumbled with her bag, almost dropping it with her shaking hands. I wanted to see her face, memorize it like I hadn’t when I thought I had at least five more years to wake up to her smile, her dimples, her fresh-faced freckles. The fear that I’d never get to lay eyes on her again flooded my veins, almost taking my legs out from under me.

“Verana. Please, listen,” I choked. I wanted to explain it all right there, shout it out and force her to listen, but Lorenzo lingered like a virus, and the words remained locked in my throat.

I clenched my fists to stop from going to her and brushing her hair back.

She kept her head down until she finally got her bag over her shoulder and her suitcase handle up.

Then she gave me my wish. She brushed her hair back and leveled me with one last gut-wrenching stare. Our eyes met for only a moment before she stormed past, but it would haunt me forever.

The anger still swirled in the brown depths, but it bathed in the sheen of hurt she struggled to hold back. Her nose red from struggling to hold back tears. Not a single dimple in sight.

Before we got out of the car, I imagined curling up with her and telling her the truth. I imagined telling her I loved her, and I’d do whatever she wanted with the company as long as she stayed. I imagined her naked body glowing by the fire while I promised her with my mouth and hands that she was more important.

Instead, I was left with the reality that my revenge had got me exactly what I set out to get.

I won the company—crushed Lorenzo. And I was just as alone as when I started.

“You son of a bitch,” Lorenzo growled once Vera disappeared back into the car.

But I didn’t care. The victory echoed like a shout in an empty tomb. Hollow with no one to hear.

Exhaustion pulled at my muscles, and I just wanted to lose myself in a bottle of alcohol until I couldn’t remember the look on her face anymore.

He followed behind me, raging obscenities and challenges, promising to fight back. But it hit against my numb back as I went to the elevator. He stood in front of the open doors, his face red with anger, but all I saw was Vera’s back disappearing beyond the doors.

I should have been happy watching Lorenzo crumble before me.

Instead, I stood like an empty shell. Wishing to go back and do it differently.

Vera’s laugh flashed in my mind. The way we danced in the bathroom as she rapped Missy Elliot. The way she fit against my body when we danced in the streets of Italy. Her smile when I praised her work.

No. I couldn’t lose her.

Committed to wallowing in my misery tonight, I grabbed the bottle once I reached the empty apartment and fell to the couch in the dark. I took a long pull from the bottle, staring at the dark screen of the TV.


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