The Billionaire's Dangerous Redemption (by Claire Winters) novel Chapter 140

140 The Reluctant Signature and a Saint’s Rebuke

hours of your discharge.”

“I said I would be there,” he replied, irritation creeping into his voice. “My word still means something, even if you don’t believe it.”

The familiar pattern was emerging again-his initial compliance followed by subtle manipulation, attempting to paint me as unreasonable while positioning himself as the wounded party.

“Your word meant something on our wedding day too,” I reminded him. “Until it didn’t.”

“That’s not fair,” he protested weakly.

“Neither was watching my stepsister walk down the aisle in my wedding dress.”

Gloria stepped closer to me, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Seeing him suffer while you lord your perfect health over

him.”

“Gloria, stop,” Alistair interrupted, raising a hand. “This isn’t helping.”

I checked my watch, deliberately showing I was ready to leave. “I have nothing more to say. I’ll see you at the Bureau.”

As I turned to go, Alistair called out, his voice suddenly stronger. “Did he finally say it?”

I paused, one hand on the door. “What?”

“Sinclair.” Alistair’s mouth curved into a knowing smile. “Is that why you’re in such a rush? Did he finally confess his feelings?”

The question hit like an unexpected slap. “This has nothing to do with Sebastian.”

“Doesn’t it?” His smile widened slightly. “You two have been inseparable lately. The press can’t get enough of you walking into his building late at night, leaving in the

morning.”

Heat rushed to my face. “You’re monitoring me now?”

“I don’t need to. It’s all over social media.” He gestured weakly to his phone on the bedside table. “Moving on rather quickly, aren’t you? For someone who claimed to be so devastated by betrayal.”

“That’s enough,” I snapped, gripping my bag tighter. “My personal life is no longer your

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concern.”

“It is until our divorce is finalized.” His eyes held a challenge. “Or have you already forgotten you’re still legally my wife?”

The monitors beside his bed beeped faster as his heart rate increased. Gloria glanced at them nervously.

“Alistair, calm down. She’s not worth it,” she urged, shooting me a venomous look.

I took a deep breath, refusing to let him provoke me. “I’ll see you at the Bureau,” I repeated, reaching for the door handle.

“One more thing,” Alistair called, his voice suddenly cold. “I heard about your father.”

My hand froze on the handle. “What about him?”

“That you had him arrested.” He coughed weakly. “Your own father, in handcuffs. Quite a spectacle, from what I’ve heard.”

“He committed a crime,” I replied tersely.

“Still,” Alistair shook his head, eyes narrowing. “I never thought you could be so

ruthless. He may not have been a good father, but did he really deserve this? To be sent to prison by his own daughter?”

The words hit like daggers, precisely aimed at my weakest point. I felt my composure crack slightly, guilt mixing with my anger.

“You don’t know anything about it,” I said quietly.

“I know enough.” His voice carried an air of moral superiority that made my blood boil. “Everyone’s talking about it. The brilliant Hazel Shaw, who sent her father to jail to satisfy her thirst for revenge.”

Gloria watched our exchange with undisguised satisfaction, clearly pleased to see me unsettled.

“Is that what you tell yourself about what happened between us too?” Alistair continued, his voice softening to sound concerned rather than accusatory. “That I deserved whatever pain you could inflict because I hurt you first?”

I turned slowly to face him, my jaw tight. “Don’t you dare compare yourself to my

father. You made your choices knowing exactly what you were doing.”

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