The Billionaire's Dangerous Redemption (by Claire Winters) novel Chapter 13

13 A Toast to the Traitors

“Wait, sister,” Ivy called out, her voice sickly sweet. 1

I froze midstep. The microphone was still in my hand as Ivy’s bony fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling me back to center stage. Her grip was surprisingly strong for someone supposedly

at death’s door.

The wedding guests stared. Their hungry eyes watched this cruel spectacle unfold. I could almost hear their thoughts: _Poor Hazel, publicly humiliated by her own family.__

I refused to look weak. Standing tall, I met Ivy’s gaze. Her eyes gleamed with malice beneath her

mask of innocence.

“I want to thank my dear sister,” she announced, clinging to my arm like we were best friends. “Without Hazel’s sacrifice, this beautiful day wouldn’t be possible.”

Sacrifice? I hadn’t sacrificed anything. Everything had been taken from me.

Ivy turned to the crowd, her voice breaking with fake emotion. “When the doctors told me I only had months to live, I thought I’d die with regrets. But Hazel-” she squeezed my arm tighter “— gave up her own happiness so I could experience true love before I go.”

The guests murmured sympathetically. Several women dabbed at their eyes.

“Isn’t she the most selfless sister anyone could ask for?”

My jaw clenched so hard my teeth might crack. Selfless? She’d stolen my fiancé, my wedding dress, and now she was stealing my dignity with this performance.

Cameras flashed. Of course Tanya had hired photographers to capture this moment. Tomorrow, these pictures would be splashed across society pages–Hazel Shaw, the jilted fiancée, forced to witness her replacement’s triumph.

“A toast to my sister!” Ivy declared, grabbing a champagne flute from a passing waiter. Her hand. trembled slightly+the only genuine thing about her.

A server appeared at my side, offering champagne. I took it, my fingers tight around the delicate

stem.

“To Hazel,” Ivy said, raising her glass. “May you someday find someone who loves you as much as

Alistair loves me.”

The guests raised their glasses. Even my father joined in, his eyes warning me to behave.

I glanced at Alistair. He wouldn’t meet my gaze, instead staring at his new bride with adoration. Six years of my life, countless blood donations to keep him alive, and he couldn’t even look me in the eye.

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13 A Toast to the Traitors

“Speech!” someone called from the crowd. Others joined in, demanding more entertainment at

my expense.

My stepmother smirked from her front–row seat. She’d orchestrated this whole humiliation. I could see it in her eyes.

Ivy nudged me. “Say something, sister dear.”

The microphone felt heavy in my hand. I could storm off, but that’s what they expected- another emotional outburst they could gossip about for months.

Instead, I smiled. Not the trembling smile of a victim, but the cold, sharp smile of someone who had nothing left to lose.

“To the bride and groom,” I said, my voice clear and steady. “May your marriage last exactly as long as it deserves to.”

A hush fell over the room. I took a deliberate sip of champagne, savoring the moment.

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