The Billionaire's Dangerous Redemption (by Claire Winters) novel Chapter 177

177 An Unavoidable Confrontation

My steps faltered slightly. “That’s… good.”

The sleek company car waited at the curb, driver holding the door open as I approached.

I blinked, caught off guard. “Yes. Eight years.”

“Fine. But just so you know, Sebastian Sinclair will be at the opening.”

He took the garment bag from my hands. “Come inside. Mother will be thrilled to see

you.”

The driver opened my door, and Sebastian extended his hand to help me out.

“I don’t want to talk about him,” I said firmly.

Sebastian turned to face me directly. “Since when do you care what people say?”

“Come on, Hazel! The gallery opening has everyone talking. You need to get out, clear your head,” Gina insisted.

“Walk with me to the garden,” he said gently. “Just for a few minutes.”

My stomach twisted at the mention of his name. Images flashed through my mind— Alistair crumpled on the courthouse floor, paramedics rushing in, that desperate look in his eyes.

“Then what is it?”

I ended the call just as the car rolled to a stop. Before the driver could exit, the front door of the mansion opened, and Sebastian himself stepped out.

“You can’t keep avoiding him forever.”

I stared at the gravel beneath my feet. “I don’t know. Relieved? Sad? Numb? All of the

above?”

“Good evening, Ms. Shaw. Straight to the Sinclair estate?”

Sebastian’s expression remained neutral, but something flickered in his eyes. “And that’s why you’ve been avoiding me as well?”

“You heard about your father’s sentencing,” he stated rather than asked.

My heart skipped at the mention of Sebastian. I’d been deliberately avoiding his calls since dinner.

“I don’t. But…” I trailed off, unable to explain how guilt and pity were warring with my hard-won freedom.

With a sigh, I gathered the garment bag and carefully wrapped package. There was no avoiding this meeting.

“Tell me you’re not chickening out,” Vera said by way of greeting.

“Have you been deliberately avoiding me lately?” he asked directly, his voice quiet but firm.

“I’m not worried about Alistair,” I insisted, too quickly.

We chatted easily about her new job at a French design house, her voice bubbling with excitement. For fifteen blissful minutes, I forgot about divorce papers, collapsing ex-husbands, and complicated feelings for Sebastian Sinclair.

“Sure it isn’t.” Gina’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Well, if you change your mind, we’ll be there until midnight.”

“I’m not hiding,” I protested weakly, watching my father’s haggard face on screen as officers led him away. “I just need time.”

My phone buzzed with a text from Vera: “Package ready for delivery to Mr. Sinclair. Driver waiting downstairs.”

“But you still feel responsible for him,” Sebastian finished for me.

Vera’s laugh was sharp. “You literally ducked into a janitor’s closet yesterday when you saw him coming down the hall at your office building.”

“I should go, Mia. I’ve arrived at my destination.”

“I’m not avoiding him,” I protested. “I’ve just been busy.”

His eyes studied my

face intently. “You look tired, Hazel.”

“Oh, I can’t stay,” I said quickly. “I just wanted to drop this off. And this as well.” I

handed him the wrapped package. “A small gift for your mother.”

Hazel’s POV

I stopped walking, struggling to articulate the complex emotions churning inside me.

I’d almost forgotten. I’d promised to personally deliver Sebastian’s custom suit for our university alumni celebration next week. I’d also crafted a small gift for his mother—a hand-embroidered silk scarf that had taken weeks to perfect.

“That’s… not relevant to my decision,” I lied.

“How do you feel about that?”

As the car wound through the city streets, my phone rang again. My old college roommate’s name lit up the screen.

“Call me next week! I want to hear all about this mysterious Sebastian you’ve been so quiet about.”

“Just busy with the new collection.”

Sebastian nodded, understanding without forcing me to elaborate. That was one thing I appreciated about him-he never pushed when I wasn’t ready to talk.

“You sound good, Hazel,” Mia said finally. “Happier than when I saw you last summer.”

The news anchor’s voice filled the room: “Harold Shaw, founder of Shaw Designs, was sentenced today following his conviction on multiple counts of fraud and

embezzlement…”

“Sure, honey. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“I’m just not ready for social events right now,” I said, unmuting the TV.

As the car turned into the long driveway of the Sinclair estate, my stomach tightened

with nerves.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding social events? Because you’re worried about running

into him?”

I accepted his hand, ignoring the warmth that spread from his touch. “The suit needed final adjustments. I wanted to make sure it was perfect.”

“This is a pleasant surprise,” he said, his deep voice washing over me. “I wasn’t expecting a personal delivery.”

“Is this about Alistair’s collapse? Because that’s not on you.”

“I saw the news about Alistair,” Sebastian said finally. “He’s been released from the hospital.”

“Yes, please.” I settled into the backseat, immediately dialing Vera.

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