Chapter 79 – A Debt Repaid, A Date Arranged
A familiar acrid smell of expensive perfume hit me before I even saw her. Sure enough, when I lifted my gaze from the financial documents spread across the conference table, there stood Eleanor in the doorway, her face contorted with rage.
“You manipulative little witch!” she screamed, storming toward me with her designer heels clicking aggressively against the marble floor. “How dare you steal what belongs to this family!”
My paternal aunt, Martha, who sat beside me reviewing the paperwork for the shares. I’d just sold her, looked up calmly. “Eleanor, this is a private business meeting. I suggest you leave before security escorts you out.”
Eleanor ignored her, jabbing a finger in my direction. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Plundering the company while Harrison’s rotting in jail?”
I remained seated, watching her meltdown with detached curiosity. It was fascinating how quickly a person’s carefully constructed facade could crumble when money was involved.
“The shares were mine to sell,” I replied evenly. “Dad made sure of that when he put them in my name to avoid his creditors.”
“Those shares were meant to save this family!” Eleanor shrieked, her carefully applied makeup cracking as her face contorted. “Not to line your pockets while we struggle!”
Martha snorted. “Struggle? In that ten–thousand–dollar outfit? Please.”
mya
Eleanor whirled toward my aunt. “You stay out of this, you vulture! You’ve been waiting for years to get your hands on Harrison’s company.”
“A company built on assets stolen from my mother’s family,” I reminded her. “Dad never had any right to it in the first place.”
Eleanor’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Your mother was weak. She didn’t deserve what
Harrison built.”
Something cold and hard settled in my chest. “My mother killed herself because of
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what Dad and you did to her.”
“And now you’re killing what’s left of this family out of spite!” Eleanor lunged forward suddenly, snatching at the papers on the table.
Martha reacted instantly, pulling the documents away. “Touch these again and I’ll have you charged with assault”
Eleanor’s hand swung toward my aunt’s face, but before it could connect, the
conference room door burst open again. Two security guards appeared, followed by my uncle Robert.
“Eleanor, that’s enough!” Robert barked, grabbing her arm. “You’re making a scene.”
“They’re stealing everything!” Eleanor wailed, tears now streaming down her face, ruining her mascara. “What about Ethan’s future? Everything was supposed to go to
him!”
I stood up finally, gathering my things. “Maybe Ethan should learn to earn his own way, instead of expecting handouts like his father.”
“You heartless bitch,” Eleanor hissed. “After everything we did for you-”
I laughed then, a genuine sound of amusement. “What exactly did you ever do for me, Eleanor? Make me sleep in the attic? “Accidentally‘ destroy my design portfolios? Or
fiancé?” was it when you encouraged Ivy to steal my
Eleanor’s face went white with fury. “Ivy loved Julian! She deserved happiness in her final days!”
“And now she’s gone, Julian’s career is in shambles, and Dad’s in prison.” I shrugged, feeling nothing but satisfaction. “Karma really is something, isn’t it?”
My phone buzzed in my purse. I checked it quickly–a message from Cherry about an urgent client request.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I said, nodding to my aunt, “I have actual work to attend to. Let me know when the transfer is finalized.”
As I walked past Eleanor, she grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin “This isn’t over, Hazel. We’re still family.”
I removed her hand like I was discarding a piece of trash. “No, Eleanor. We never were.”
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The security guards moved forward, finally escorting her out as she continued to shout threats and accusations, I didn’t look back as I left the building, her voice fading behind me.
That evening, I sat in my apartment, staring at my bank account balance on my laptop. screen. Sixty million from the shares, plus the ten million I’d managed to save over the years. More money than I’d ever dreamed of having.
And I knew exactly what I needed to do with a good portion of it.
Taking a deep breath, I picked up my phone and dialed a number I’d memorized but rarely used.
“Hello?” Damien’s deep voice answered after two–rings.
My heart skipped stupidly. “Hi, it’s Hazel.”
“I know.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes, everything’s fine. I just…” I hesitated. “I wanted to talk to you about the money you lent me.”
There was a pause. “There’s no rush to repay me, Hazel. I told you that.”
“I know, but…” I bit my lip. “I sold my shares in my father’s company today. I got sixty million for them.”
“Congratulations,” he said, sounding genuinely pleased. “That’s excellent business.”
“Thank you. And I’ve also got about ten million in savings. So I’d like to repay you seventy million of what I owe.”
Another pause, longer this time. “You don’t need to do that. Your career is just rebuilding-”
“Please,” I interrupted. “I need to do this. It’s important to me.”
I heard him sigh softly. “If it matters that much to you, then I accept. But only on one condition.”
I frowned. “What condition?”
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“That you understand this doesn’t change anything between us. I didn’t help you for the money, Hazel.”
Warmth spread through me at his words. “I know that. But I still want to repay what I
can.
“Alright,” he conceded. “Send the details to my financial manager, and he’ll handle it.”
“Thank you.” I paused, not wanting the conversation to end. “Oh, by the way, the clothes I designed for you will be ready before the university anniversary.”
“You remembered. His voice softened, and I could picture his rare smile.
“Of course I did. I’m quite proud of them, actually. The fabric is imported from Italy-”
“I have no doubt they’ll be perfect,” he said. “Should I send someone to collect them, or would you prefer to deliver them?”
“I can bring them to you,” I offered quickly, perhaps too quickly. “It’s no trouble.”
“No need,” Damien replied. “Tomorrow at noon, I’ll go directly to your studio, to save you the trouble of carrying clothes around.”
My heart leaped into my throat. Damien Sterling, coming to my personal studio? The place was a creative mess at the best of times.
“T–tomorrow?” I stammered. “I could use a bit more time to-”
“Is noon inconvenient?” he asked, his tone suddenly concerned.
I took a deep breath. “No, noon is fine! I’ll see you then.”
scraps After hanging up, I looked around my studio with mounting panic. Fabric scra littered every surface, half–finished designs hung from every available hook, and my inspiration wall was a chaotic collage of photos, sketches, and sticky notes.
Grabbing my phone again, I texted Cherry an SOS. If Damien Sterling was coming to my studio tomorrow, we had some serious cleaning to do.
As I began gathering stray pins and sorting fabric swatches, I couldn’t help but smile. Despite my anxiety, there was an undeniable flutter of excitement in my s
Tomorrow at noon. A debt/partially repaid.
ach.
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And perhaps something new beginning.
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