107 Chapter 110
Chapter 110 – Hazel’s Gambit: A Price for Freedom
The morning light filtered through my bedroom curtains as I stared at my phone, rereading Damien’s latest text: “I’m ordering that car today. Consider it an engagement gift in advance.”
I felt my cheeks flush. After his revelation about my drunken behavior on my birthday night, Damien had been more openly affectionate and confident in his pursuit. The line between friendship and something more was blurring with each passing day.
“An engagement gift?” I muttered to myself, both thrilled and terrified by the implication. “We’re not even dating officially.”
But wasn’t that just a technicality at this point? The chemistry between us was undeniable, especially now that I knew I’d already kissed him once–even if I couldn’t remember it.
My phone buzzed again: “Grandmother’s discharge papers are ready. We’re waiting for you in the lobby.”
Reality crashed back. Today my grandmother was coming home from the hospital after her heart scare, and I needed to focus on her, not my complicated love life.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Aunt Maggie observed as I drove them back from the hospital. Grandmother sat in the passenger seat, looking frail but determined.
“Just concentrating on driving, I lied.
“Hmm.” Grandmother’s knowing look caught me off guard. “Or maybe you’re thinking about that handsome young man who keeps visiting?”
I nearly swerved the car. “What?”
“Don’t play coy,” she chuckled. “The nurses told me everything. Tall, devastatingly handsome, bringing expensive flower arrangements. One even said she recognized him as a Sterling”
Aunt Maggie gasped. “A Sterling? As in the Sterling family?
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I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “It’s… complicated.”
“Darling,” Grandmother said softly, “be careful. The Sterlings exist in a different world
than ours.”
“I know that,” I insisted.
“Do you?” Aunt Maggie’s voice was uncharacteristically serious. “Look what happened with the Graysons, and they’re nowhere near the Sterling family’s level. The higher you climb, the harder the fall.”
“We’re just friends,” I said weakly, not believing it myself.
“Friends don’t look at each other the way he looks at you,” Grandmother countered. “I may be old, but I’m not blind.”
I sighed, deciding honesty was best. “He’s interested in me. And I… I might feel the
same.”
Silence filled the car before Aunt Maggie spoke. “Just promise you’ll protect your heart. You’ve been through enough.”
“I will,” I promised, though my heart was already racing ahead of my common sense.
That afternoon, my phone rang
w call from my lawyer.
“Ms. Ashworth, I have some unfortunate news.” His tone immediately set me on edge. “Mr. Grayson has filed an appeal on the divorce proceedings.”
“What?” I stood up so quickly my chair scraped against the floor. “How is that possible? The deadline was yesterday!”
“He filed right before the court closed. Technically, it was still within the allowable timeframe.”
Rage boiled inside me. Six months of waiting, and now Julian was dragging this out even longer?
“On what grounds?” I demanded.
“He’s claiming the division of assets wasn’t fair and that you acted under duress when signing the agreement.”
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I laughed bitterly. “That’s rich coming from him.”
After ending the call, I paced my apartment, seething. This was another power play, another way for Julian to maintain control over my life. And I was sick of it.
Then a thought struck me. If Julian wanted to play dirty, I could too.
I pulled out my laptop and searched through my cloud storage until I found it–a video file labeled “Evidence that I’d saved months ago. The night Giselle Grayson had drugged my drink at a family dinner, I’d secretly recorded everything on my phone, including Julian’s father claiming they’d “handled” the security footage.
They thought they’d destroyed all evidence. They were wrong.
Three hours later, I stood at the police station, giving my statement about the incident to a grim–faced detective.
“Ms. Ashworth, this is a serious allegation,” he said, reviewing the video again. “Ms. Grayson could face charges for drugging you.”
“I understand,” I replied calmly. “And I want to press charges.”
The detective nodded. “We’ll bring her in for questioning immediately.”
I waited in the station, ignoring the string of increasingly angry texts from Julian. Soon enough, the doors burst open, and Giselle stormed in, followed by Mrs. Landon, Julian’s mother.
“This is outrageous!” Mrs. Landon screeched when she spotted me. “Making up lies about our daughter!”
vicious
I remained seated, oddly calm. “I have video evidence, Mrs. Landon. It’s not a lie.” Giselle’s face paled slightly. “What video? There was no video.”
“Your father lied,” I said simply. “I had my own recording device. And now the police
did. have seen exactly what you
Mrs. Landon rushed toward me, finger pointing accusingly. “You vindictive little-
“Mrs. Landon,” the detective interrupted. “Please control yourself, or you’ll be asked to leave.”
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I stood up, straightening my jacket. “I’m willing to discuss dropping the charges.
Giselle’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What do you want?”
“Tell Julian to withdraw his appeal on our divorce. Today.” I held her gaze steadily. “Otherwise, I’ll let the justice system handle you.”
“You can’t do this,” Mrs. Landon hissed. “It’s blackmail!”
“No,” I corrected her. “It’s justice. I kept quiet about what your daughter did to me for too long. Now I’m simply offering her a choice.”
My phone vibrated–Damien calling. I stepped away to answer.
“Everything okay?” His voice was immediately concerned. “Victoria called. Said you were headed to the police station.”
My heart warmed at his concern. “I’m handling it. Just dealing with the Graysons once and for all.”
“Need me to come down there?”
“No,” I said, surprising myself with my confidence. “This is something I need to do myself.”
“I’m proud of you,” he said softly. “Call me when you’re finished.”
As I hung up, my phone immediately lit up with Julian’s name.
“You’ve lost your mind,” he spat when I answered. “Having my sister brought in for questioning? What the hell are you playing at?”
“I’m done playing, Julian,” I replied coldly. “Drop the appeal, or your sister faces charges. It’s that simple.”
than this, “This isn’t like you, he said, his tone changing to one I recognized–the manipulative, honey–coated voice he used when trying to control me. “You’re b Hazel.”
“No, this is exactly like me–the real me you never bothered to know.” My voice was steady. “I’m giving you until tomorrow morning to withdraw the appeal.”
“You know why I can’t!” he shouted, his facade cracking. “You know why I need more
time!”
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And suddenly, everything clicked into place–his desperation, the timing of his appeal, the recent reports from mutual acquaintances that he’d been looking unwell.
“Your old illness has relapsed, hasn’t it?” I said, the realization dawning. “Your blood type is special. Aren’t you just trying to wear me down, force me to continue donating blood to save your life? All this time, you’ve refused to break up, it’s also for this reason, right? It’s just that before, you feigned some pretense, now you’ve completely torn off the mask, not even bothering to pretend anymore.”
The silence on the other end was all the confirmation I needed..
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