Morning light streamed through the windows of my penthouse as I gathered the last of Alistair's possessions. His designer watch. The cashmere sweater I'd bought him last Christmas. Photos I'd once treasured, now nothing but paper with fading smiles.
I dropped everything into a cardboard box with detached efficiency. No sentiment. No tears. Just the methodical removal of a cancer from my life.
My phone buzzed. A message from my lawyer confirming Alistair would arrive within the hour to sign the Evening Gala transfer papers. Perfect timing. I'd just finished purging my home of his presence.
Vera sat at my kitchen counter, nursing a coffee. "You sure about this? Taking the company instead of the cash?"
"Absolutely." I sealed the box with packing tape. "Evening Gala is my creation. My blood. My vision. He just provided the money."
"And now you're making him pay again." Vera grinned. "I've never been prouder."
The doorbell rang precisely at ten. My heart didn't even skip a beat—progress.
"Showtime," Vera whispered, squeezing my hand before retreating to the guest room. She wanted to stay close in case things got ugly.
I smoothed my black Chanel dress, checked my reflection in the hallway mirror, and opened the door.
Alistair stood there, looking tired and conflicted. But he wasn't alone. Behind him stood Liana Langdon, his aristocratic mother, her lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval.
Interesting. He'd brought backup.
"Hazel," Alistair nodded stiffly.
"You're late," I responded, stepping aside to let them in. "And I don't recall inviting your mother."
Liana's perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose. "I've always been involved in Everett family business matters."
"This isn't family business," I corrected her coolly. "It's a settlement between your son and the woman he abandoned."
Her face tightened, but she said nothing as they followed me into the living room.
"Let's get this over with," Alistair said, pulling documents from his leather portfolio. "The papers transferring full ownership of Evening Gala to you."
I took them, examining each page carefully. Everything seemed in order—the company, the assets, the intellectual property, all transferred to my name.
"You're making a serious mistake, Alistair," Liana suddenly said. "Evening Gala is worth—"
"I know what it's worth, Mother," Alistair cut her off.
I looked up from the papers. "Is there a problem, Liana? Does it bother you that your son is finally paying for something worthwhile?"
"How dare you," she hissed. "After everything our family has done for you—"
"You mean after I spent six years giving blood transfusions to keep your son alive?" I smiled thinly. "Yes, you've done so much for me."
Alistair flinched. "Hazel, please. Let's just finish this."
I sat at my dining table, spreading the papers out. "There's one more thing."
His eyes narrowed. "What now? We agreed Evening Gala would settle everything."
"Not quite everything," I said, pulling out another document my lawyer had prepared. "I want one million dollars for my wedding dress."
"What?" Liana's voice rose an octave.
"The custom gown your son stole from my studio and gave to my stepsister," I clarified. "One million dollars seems fair."
"That's outrageous!" Liana exclaimed. "No dress is worth—"
"It's not about the dress," I interrupted, my voice deadly calm. "It's about what it represents. Six years of my life. My blood. My devotion. All tossed aside because poor, dying Ivy wanted to play bride with my fiancé."
Alistair's face paled. "How did you know that was her idea?"
I laughed, a short, bitter sound. "Because I know Ivy. She's spent her entire life wanting what's mine. The wedding dress was the final piece of her collection."
Silence filled the room. Alistair looked away, confirming my suspicion.
"One million dollars," I repeated. "For a handcrafted couture gown that took three months to design and two months to create. For the dress I was supposed to wear when I married you."
Liana turned to her son, voice sharp with disbelief. "Alistair, surely you're not considering this ridiculous demand?"
But Alistair's eyes never left mine. He saw the cold determination there, the knowledge I possessed about his new fiancée's true nature. He knew I wouldn't back down.
"I'll transfer the money today," he said quietly.
"Are you crazy?" Liana gasped. "Do you have too much money to burn?"
I smiled at her outburst. "Apparently he does, Liana. Or perhaps he's simply paying the fair price for betrayal."
Alistair signed the documents with a steady hand, then pushed them toward me. "There. It's done. Evening Gala is yours."
I signed my portions, then passed him the agreement for the dress payment. "Your final bill."
He signed without hesitation, ignoring his mother's furious glare.
"Is there anything else you want to take from my son?" Liana asked bitterly.
I looked at Alistair, the man I once thought I'd spend forever with. Now, I felt nothing but cold detachment.
"No," I said finally. "There's nothing else of his I want. In fact—" I walked over to retrieve the box I'd packed earlier. "—he can take the last of his possessions with him."
Alistair accepted the box, his fingers brushing mine momentarily. No spark. No pain. Nothing.
"I hope you find happiness, Hazel," he said softly.
"I will," I assured him. "Now that I'm free of you and your family."
I walked them to the door, eager to have them out of my space.
As they stepped into the hallway, Alistair paused. "For what it's worth, I never meant to hurt you."
"But you did," I replied simply. "And now you've paid for it. Goodbye, Alistair."
I closed the door before he could respond.
Vera emerged from the guest room, eyes wide. "Holy shit, you actually did it! One million dollars for a wedding dress?"
"Plus a multi-million-dollar company," I reminded her, feeling a strange lightness spreading through me. "Not bad for a day's work."
She hugged me tightly. "I'm so proud of you. But are you okay?"
I considered the question honestly. Was I okay? My fiancé had left me for my dying stepsister. My wedding was canceled. My life had been turned upside down.
And yet...
"I'm better than okay," I realized. "For the first time in years, I'm completely free."
Free of Alistair. Free of obligation. Free of the constant shadow of Ivy's jealousy.
I walked to the window, looking out at the city spread before me. Somewhere out there, Alistair was probably explaining to Ivy why he'd just paid a million dollars for her stolen wedding dress. The thought made me smile.
"What's next?" Vera asked, joining me at the window.
I thought about Evening Gala—my company now. All mine. The possibilities stretched before me like an open road.
"Now," I said, "I build my empire."