Three days. That’s how close I was to marrying Alistair, the man I’d loved for six years, the man whose life I’d literally saved with my own rare blood. I was just admiring the final pearl on my wedding dress, a gown I’d poured my soul into, when he called.

The wedding? Off. He was marrying my stepsister, Ivy. Her dying wish, he said. Six months to live, maybe less.

The kicker? He’d already taken my wedding dress from my studio for her.

Just like that, six years, countless transfusions, our shared dreams – all tossed aside for the girl who’d made my life a living hell since childhood. He even offered me “compensation,” as if my future had a price tag.

But if Alistair and Ivy thought I’d just crumble, they seriously underestimated me. They wanted my fiancé? Fine. But it would cost them. First, our multi-million-dollar fashion company, Evening Gala – built on my designs, my vision. He signed it over. Then, a cool million for the stolen dress. He paid. Another million for the wedding jewelry they dared to ask me to hand over for Ivy. Cha-ching.

You’d think they’d learn. But no. Their next proposal was the most insulting yet: Alistair actually suggested that I should just wait. That after Ivy’s ‘inevitable’ passing in a few months, he and I could just pick up where we left off, have an even better wedding. Seriously?

Enough was enough. If Ivy wanted to play bride with my life, she was going to get a taste of what happens when you push someone too far. Let's just say her hospital room celebration involved a lot more smoke, water, and screaming than she bargained for, all thanks to a little wedding gift from yours truly.

Now they know I’m not the same Hazel they could walk all over. I’ve got my company, a pile of their cash, and a whole lot of scores to settle. They think this is over? This game of revenge is just getting started. And believe me, I play to win.

The drive home from the police station blurred through tears. My life was collapsing around me like a house of cards. First Alistair's betrayal, then Ivy's death, and now this—a political scandal that threatened to swallow not just me but Sebastian too.


I pulled over at a viewpoint overlooking the city. Rain drummed against the roof of my car. The skyline stretched before me, lights twinkling through the darkness, oblivious to my breaking heart.


"No," I whispered to myself. "I can't drag him into this."


The National Security investigation was already linking Sebastian to my family's mess. And Henry—that fool—was ready to name-drop Sebastian to save himself.


This was Alistair's master stroke. He'd found the perfect way to destroy me completely.


I tried Sebastian's number for the tenth time. Still straight to voicemail. He was still abroad on business, unreachable when I needed him most. Maybe it was better this way. I could make a clean break before he returned.


Chapter 350 - A Heartbreaking Resolve