The Billionaire's Dangerous Redemption (by Claire Winters) novel Chapter 132

132 The Father’s Downfall

Hazel’s POV

I remained seated, observing my father’s reddening face as he towered over his desk. His attempt to intimidate me might have worked years ago, but not today.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said calmly. “Not until we’ve had our talk.”

Harold Shaw’s nostrils flared. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

“Oh, I think there is.” I opened my designer handbag and pulled out a thick manila folder. “Fraud, tax evasion, money laundering, embezzlement-should I continue?”

Tanya scoffed, her bony fingers clutching the edge of the desk. “You have no proof of anything.”

“Don’t I?” I placed the folder on the desk and slid it toward my father. “Every transaction you’ve made in the last five years. Every shell company. Every bribe.”

My father snatched the folder but didn’t open it. His eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“Who gave you this? Who have you been talking to?”

I smiled. “People talk when they’ve been burned, Father. Especially when they’re facing jail time themselves.”

He threw the folder back at me. Papers scattered across the polished desk.

“Get out before I have security remove you.”

I gathered the documents calmly. “Security won’t be a problem. They’re quite interested in what I have to say.”

“This is ridiculous,” Tanya hissed, her face twisted with rage. “You ungrateful little-”

“Ms. Shaw?” A voice called from the doorway.

We all turned to see a middle-aged woman in a tailored suit standing there. Her expression was grim, hands clasped tightly in front of her.

“Thank you for coming, Ms. Wu,” I said.

My father’s face paled. “Lisa? What are you doing here?”

Lisa Wu-his former finance director who had mysteriously “retired” last year- stepped into the office.

“Hello, Harold. It’s been a while.”

Behind her, several more people filed in. Faces I recognized from business meetings and corporate events. Former partners. Creditors. All wearing expressions ranging from disappointment to outright fury.

My father’s composure cracked. “What is this? Some kind of ambush?”

“Consider it an intervention,” I replied. “These people have stories to tell. About missing funds. Forged signatures. Promises broken.”

A balding man pushed forward. “You said the investment was guaranteed, Shaw! I lost my retirement savings!”

“And you told me the tax issues were resolved!” another shouted.

The room erupted into chaos. Voices overlapped as everyone began shouting at once. My father backed against the wall, his face ashen.

“ENOUGH!” he roared, silencing the crowd momentarily. He jabbed a finger at me. “You have no proof of anything. These are just disgruntled ex-employees with grudges!”

I held up my phone. “I don’t need their testimony, though it helps. I have the paper trail.”

“Those documents?” He sneered, grabbing the folder again and ripping the pages to

shreds. “Gone.”

I watched the pieces flutter to the floor. “That was a copy. The originals are with my lawyer, the tax bureau, and the police.”

His face turned an alarming shade of purple. “You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie? I’ve spent months building this case.”

Tanya lunged at me suddenly, her acrylic nails aimed at my face. “You little bitch! After everything we did for you!”

My security team materialized in the doorway instantly, two of them restraining Tanya

before she could reach me. She struggled against their grip, spitting curses.

“Everything you did for me?” I repeated, still seated calmly. “Like plotting to kill me to get my company?”

The room fell silent. Even Tanya stopped struggling.

“That’s absurd,” my father said, but his voice lacked conviction.

I tapped my phone screen and hit play. Their earlier conversation filled the room:

*”-don’t care what you have to do. Just make sure that ungrateful bitch pays for what she did to my daughter!”*

*”Keep your voice down. Someone might hear you.”*

*”Who cares? Everyone knows how I feel about her. If I had my way, she’d be dead instead of my Ivy.”*

I stopped the recording. The faces of everyone in the room reflected shock and disgust.

“You were recording us?” Tanya shrieked. “That’s illegal!”

“Actually, in this state, recording conversations you’re a party to is perfectly legal,” I corrected her. “But plotting murder isn’t.”

My father’s composure collapsed entirely. He slumped into his chair, sweat beading on

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