200 Drawing the Battle Lines
200 Drawing the Battle Lines
“Try me.” I stepped toward Sebastian’s waiting car. “It’s your choice. Walk away now, or we both start destroying lives tomorrow morning”
“I still love you.” His voice dropped to a desperate whisper.
“Always.” Cora squeezed my arm. “Ready to leave this snakepit?”
“I was manipulated!” His face contorted with emotion. “By Ivy, by your father and stepmother–even my own parents! They made me believe-”
Cora snorted. “Good God, man. Have some dignity.”
I crossed my arms. “I don’t owe you explanations.”
“Is it working?” Sebastian leaned closer, his cologne–expensive and subtle- enveloping me.
Fiona’s face reddened. “You little-”
Alistair ignored her, his eyes fixed on me. “We need to talk. Alone.”
“Insurance fraud, Alistair. Faking terminal cancer to collect a seven–figure payout.” I smiled thinly. “I have the evidence. I’ve had it for months. I just didn’t want to cause a
scene.”
Alistair’s face drained of color. “You’re leaving with him?”
Fiona’s jaw tightened. “That was a misunderstanding.”
Standing behind her were two other former classmates, their expressions equally
curious and hostile.
## Hazel’s POV
“Come on, Hazel,” Cora grabbed my arm. “The air quality suddenly dropped in this
corner.”
My momentary peace shattered at the sound of Alistair’s voice. I turned slowly to see him hurrying down the steps toward us.
“Fine,” I said coldly. “You appeal tomorrow, and I’ll make sure your sister is in jail
tomorrow. Let’s both go all out!”
Sebastian chuckled. “Fair enough. I’ll find you before the event ends.”
Alistair’s grip tightened reflexively before he dropped my arm. “This doesn’t concern you, Sinclair.”
“Then how do you know Sebastian Sinclair?” she pressed. “Everyone knows he doesn’t socialize with just anyone.”
“Ladies,” he called. “Your ride awaits.”
“Thanks for the rescue,” I murmured.
“He’s dangerous, Hazel!” Alistair ran a hand through his hair. “You can’t trust him.”
“I’m going to need a hell of a lot more than five minutes to explain how Sebastian Sinclair knows you,” Alistair said, his voice rising. “What are you doing with him? Do you have any idea who he is?”
Rage, white–hot and blinding, surged through me. “Let go of my arm.”
“The only service I provide is designing clothes that make women look better than nature intended,” I replied coolly. “Something you might consider investing in.”
I nodded, suddenly exhausted from the emotional roller coaster of the evening. “More than ready.”
“Friends?” Cora raised an eyebrow. “Funny, I thought they were the same nasty gossips who spread rumors about you stealing designs in our senior year.”
“Promise you won’t leave with him,” Alistair demanded.
The implication wasn’t subtle. The two women behind her tittered.
Alistair’s expression hardened. “This doesn’t concern you, Cora.”
“Do I need a reason beyond wanting to spend a few more minutes in your company?” His smile was subtle but devastating.
I headed back to retrieve my purse from our table. Vera had wandered off to network with some alumni who might be useful for her restaurant business.
“It’s exactly like that,” I spát. “I was your backup plan then, and I’m your backup plan
now.”
“I made a mistake,” he pleaded. “The biggest mistake of my life. I’ve been trying to tell you-”
“Just catching up with old friends,” I said dryly.
“Save it,” I cut him off. “I’m not interested in your regrets.”
Fiona’s smile tightened. “Don’t be ridiculous. Someone like him wouldn’t give you a second glance unless you’re providing… services.”
As he walked away, I caught myself staring at his broad shoulders in that perfectly tailored suit. What was happening to me? One minute of attention from Sebastian Sinclair and I was turning into a blushing schoolgirl.
“They made you believe what?” I challenged. “That abandoning me was the right thing to do? That marrying Ivy would somehow save her life?”
“What do you want?” Cora snapped before I could speak.
I turned to follow her, but Alistair’s hand shot out, gripping my arm tightly.
We collected our belongings and headed for the exit. The cool night air felt wonderful after the stuffy ballroom. I took a deep breath, feeling some of the tension leave my
body.
Sebastian was suddenly beside us, his presence menacing despite his casual stance. “The lady asked you to release her.”
“She’s my wife,” Alistair snarled.
“Hazel!”
“I’m not,” I replied simply.
We walked away, leaving Fiona and her friends fuming.
“A technicality I can fix,” Alistair retorted. “I’ll file the appeal tomorrow.”
“She said no,” Cora stepped between us.
I shrugged. “Maybe I’m not just anyone.”
“I’d like to drive you home tonight,” Sebastian said, his voice low and intimate as we
stood in a quiet corner of the ballroom.
“Yes!” he cried. “They convinced me it was the compassionate choice!”
“Ex–wife,” I corrected, rubbing my arm where his fingers had dug in.
“That’s rich coming from you,” I laughed bitterly. “The master of trustworthiness.”
“Was it?” Cora’s tone was acid. “Like how you’re misunderstanding Hazel’s relationship with Sebastian Sinclair? Green isn’t your color, Fiona. Neither is that dress.”
“Yes, she is,” Cora answered for me, already moving toward the vehicle. “Goodnight,
Alistair.”
“You heard me.” His fingers dug into my arm. “There were procedural errors in our divorce filing My lawyer found them. I can tie you up in court for years.”
“Anything that concerns Ms. Shaw concerns me,” Sebastian replied, echoing Cora’s earlier words but with an underlying threat that made them sound entirely different.
The intensity in his dark eyes made my heart skip. “Why is that?”
“You’re bluffing,” he whispered, but uncertainty flickered in his eyes.
“I’ll let you know by the end of the evening,” I replied, trying to maintain some
composure.
“Five minutes. Please.” His voice cracked slightly. He looked disheveled, his tie loosened and hair mussed.
The sound of a powerful engine interrupted our argument. A sleek black SUV pulled up to the curb, its tinted window lowering to reveal Sebastian in the driver’s seat.
Alistair flinched. “It’s not like that.”
I froze. “What did you just say?”
“We have nothing to discuss,” I said firmly.
“Don’t do this, Hazel,” he hissed. “If you get in that car with him, I’ll appeal our divorce.”
“Let. Go.” My voice was barely audible over the blood rushing in my ears.
“You have a funny way of showing it,” I pulled my hand away. “Was it love when you married my stepsister? When you gave her my wedding dress?”
I couldn’t help the warmth spreading across my cheeks. “You’re being suspiciously charming.”
“Hazel, please,” Alistair reached for my hand. “Come home with me tonight. Let me explain everything. I never stopped loving you–not for a single day.”
Fiona gasped. “How dare you-”
“Anything involving Hazel concerns me,” she fired back.
Alistair blanched. “What are you talking about?”
“And now?” I stepped closer, my voice deadly quiet. “Now that Ivy’s miraculously recovered and your marriage is falling apart, you suddenly remember your love for me?”
Something in me snapped. The last thread of restraint, perhaps, or the final vestige of the doormat I’d once been.
“Problem here?” Cora appeared at my side, her expression fierce. She’d never tolerated bullies, even back in college.
“My, my, Hazel Shaw.” Fiona’s voice dripped with false sweetness as she intercepted me. “I didn’t know you were so well–connected.”
