The Billionaire's Dangerous Redemption (by Claire Winters) novel Chapter 126

126 From Ashes to Accusations

Hazel’s POV

I was halfway to the exit when the funeral hall erupted into chaos. Tanya’s grief transformed into blind rage as she lunged at Alistair, her manicured nails slashing across his face.

“You disrespectful bastard!” she shrieked, landing another blow. “My daughter isn’t even cold in her grave!”

Blood trickled from the cuts on Alistair’s cheek as he stumbled backward. The security guards rushed forward, struggling to restrain Tanya as she thrashed wildly.

“Let me go!” she screamed. “He deserves worse!”

Aunt Helen gripped my elbow. “Keep walking, dear. This isn’t your circus anymore.”

I nodded, but couldn’t help stealing one last glance over my shoulder. My father was trying to calm Tanya down while shooting accusatory glares in my direction. Typical. Even now, I was somehow to blame for Alistair’s poor decisions.

We had almost reached the door when a bloodied hand grabbed my wrist. Alistair had broken free from the commotion and chased after me, his face a mess of scratches and desperate hope.

“Hazel, please,” he panted, still clutching the diamond ring box. “Don’t leave like this.”

The funeral guests watched with morbid fascination as I slowly turned to face him. The

air in the room felt thick with tension.

“Let go of me,” I said quietly.

He tightened his grip instead. “Just hear me out. What we had was real. It was always

real.”

“What we had,” I replied, emphasizing each word, “was a lie.”

“No.” He shook his head frantically, blood droplets spraying from his face. “I made a mistake. A terrible mistake. But I never stopped loving you.”

The pathetic display might have moved me once, but now it just filled me with disgust.

With deliberate calm, I pried his fingers from my wrist.

“If that’s love, Alistair, then I want nothing to do with it.”

His eyes darted around at our audience before returning to mine. He dropped to his knees again, this time with tears streaming down his face, mixing with the blood.

“Take it,” he pleaded, holding up the ring box. “It’s always been yours. Please, Hazel.”

The silence in the room was deafening. Even Tanya had stopped struggling to watch this spectacle unfold.

With steady hands, I took the box from him. For a moment, relief flooded his features – until I walked straight past him toward the cremation furnace where Ivy’s body had

been reduced to ashes just hours earlier.

Without hesitation, I flipped open the box, extracted the diamond ring, and dropped it into the still-glowing embers. The precious metal immediately began to warp in the intense heat.

Gasps echoed through the hall. Alistair’s face crumpled in horror.

“Consider us even,” I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “You burned our future. I burned your past.”

With that, I turned and walked out of the funeral home, Aunt Helen’s arm linked supportively with mine. Behind us, I heard the renewed sounds of chaos – Alistair’s broken sobbing, my father’s angry shouts, Tanya’s hysterical screams.

None of it touched me anymore.

“That was quite the exit,” Aunt Helen remarked as we reached her car. “Are you all

right?”

I took a deep breath of fresh air. “Better than I’ve been in years.”

My phone rang incessantly all weekend. Most calls I ignored, but I answered when my grandmother called Sunday evening.

“I heard what happened at the funeral,” she said without preamble. “Helen told me everything.”

126 From Ashes to Accusations

“I’m sure she did.” I curled deeper into my couch, wineglass in hand.

“Good for you, child,” Grandma said, surprising me. “That man needed to be put in his place.”

I smiled despite myself. “Thanks, Grandma.”

“However,” her voice sharpened, “throwing that ring in the furnace was a bit dramatic, don’t you think? You could have pawned it and bought yourself something nice.”

A laugh bubbled out of me. “That wouldn’t have made the same statement.”

“Perhaps not,” she conceded. “But statements don’t pay bills, Hazel.”

“My business does that just fine,” I reminded her.

We chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up. No sooner had I set my phone down than it rang again. This time it was Vera.

“Holy shit, woman!” she exclaimed the moment I answered. “You’ve got the entire city talking! I’ve had three people call me today asking if the rumors are true.”

I sighed. “Which rumors? That I rejected Alistair at his wife’s funeral? Or that I threw his ring into the cremation furnace?”

“Both! And that Tanya went full psycho and clawed his face off.” Vera sounded positively delighted. “Please tell me that part’s true.”

“It’s true,” I confirmed. “Though I doubt she did permanent damage, unfortunately.”

“God, I wish I’d been there to see it.” Vera paused, her tone growing serious. “But listen, I’m calling to warn you. Tanya is on the warpath. My cousin works at city hall, and he overheard her meeting with some officials yesterday.”

I sat up straighter. “What kind of officials?”

“The kind that can make life difficult for business owners.” Vera’s voice dropped lower. “She’s calling in every favor, pulling every string. You need to watch your back.”

“I always do,” I replied, but a knot formed in my stomach.

After hanging up, I spent the rest of the evening reviewing my company’s paperwork, ensuring everything was in order. All taxes paid, all permits current, all regulations followed to the letter. I’d always been meticulous about these things, knowing that as a

young female business owner, I’d be scrutinized more heavily than others.

I finally went to bed around 2 AM, confident that my business could withstand any inspection Tanya might orchestrate.

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