The club's dim lights flickered, and the bass from the speakers throbbed like a pulse through the walls. Hazel kept her grip steady on the concealed blade beneath the table. She could feel Vanessa watching her, gauging every twitch of her expression like a predator playing with its food.
"Still pretending to be brave, Hazel?" Vanessa cooed, twirling her glass of wine. "Let me make it simple — you leave Michael tonight. Quietly. No scenes, no threats. I'll even make sure you're well compensated. Walk away, and you might survive."
Hazel's lips twitched into a small, dangerous smile. "And if I don't?"
Vanessa's smile turned vicious. "Then you die with him."
There it was — the bare truth, sharp and ugly.
Hazel's pulse pounded, but her fear didn't win this time. Not after everything she'd learned, everything she'd fought through to get here. She wasn't the clueless wife they'd all assumed she'd be. She was a weapon now, forged by betrayal.
She leaned forward, voice low and clear.
"You should've finished me when you had the chance, Vanessa."
The other woman's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
Hazel reached into her clutch, pulling out a small flash drive and placing it on the table between them.
"I've spent the last week digging through Michael's archives. Through yours. Every dirty deal. Every offshore account. Every backdoor partnership with Kline Industries. I have it all."
Vanessa's face paled, her mask cracking for the first time.
Hazel smiled coldly. "You think you control this city? Honey, you've just been exposed. You try to touch either of us, this hits every news outlet by morning."
Vanessa lunged across the table, grabbing Hazel's wrist, nails biting into her skin.
"You little—"
A hand seized Vanessa's shoulder, yanking her back.
Michael.
His presence hit the room like a storm breaking. Black suit, eyes like ice, fury radiating off him in waves. Half the club went silent.
"Touch my wife again," Michael growled, "and I swear, Vanessa, your corpse will be the next headline."
Vanessa staggered, the confidence draining from her face.
Hazel met Michael's gaze — and for the first time, there was no resentment, no distance. Only fury and fierce, protective love.
He cupped her face roughly. "I told you not to come alone."
Hazel smiled despite the chaos. "I told you I wasn't asking for permission."
Michael let out a breath — half growl, half laugh. "Reckless woman."
Vanessa grabbed her bag, seething. "This isn't over."
Michael smirked darkly. "For you, it is."
Two security guards appeared at his signal, flanking Vanessa as she was escorted out, humiliated.
Michael turned back to Hazel, his voice quieter now.
"You're not just my wife anymore, Hazel. You're my partner."
Hazel slipped her hand into his, her pulse steady for the first time all night.
"About damn time."
And together, they left the club, the city's cold night air wrapping around them like a promise...