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.

I arrived at the fusion restaurant fifteen minutes early, my mind still reeling from Alistair's confusing gesture. The hostess led me to a quiet corner booth, and I ordered a glass of white wine while waiting for Vera.


"Starting without me?" Vera's voice rang out as she slid into the seat across from me. Her sharp eyes assessed my face. "You look troubled. What's happened now?"


I took a sip of wine before answering. "Alistair postponed our divorce appointment. Again."


Vera rolled her eyes. "That man is the master of excuses. What was it this time? Alien abduction?"


"A business trip to Milan." I shrugged. "But get this - he's signing over the villa to me."


Her eyebrows shot up. "The entire property? No strings?"


"None that I could find in the paperwork."


Vera signaled for a waiter and ordered herself a martini before leaning forward. "So Prince Charming suddenly grew a conscience? I don't buy it."


Chapter 34 - A Desperate Bargain