159 Alistair’s Complications
Hazel’s POV 1
I hummed softly as I reviewed the designs spread across my desk. The prospect of seeing Sebastian tomorrow had put me in an unusually good mood. My fingers traced the lines of a jacket I’d sketched specifically for him, imagining how the fabric would complement his broad shoulders.
My phone buzzed, interrupting my daydream. The banking notification showed that the transfer to Sebastian had gone through successfully. Ten million dollars—a debt I no longer carried. The weight that lifted from my shoulders was immediate.
I’d barely set my phone down when it rang again. The name on the screen wiped the smile from my face.
Alistair Everett.
My thumb hovered over the decline button. I hadn’t spoken to him since our last disastrous encounter. Against my better judgment, I answered.
“What do you want?” I kept my voice flat, emotionless.
“Hazel.” His voice was smooth, familiar in a way that made my skin crawl. “We need to talk.”
“We have nothing to discuss.” I gripped the phone tighter.
“Actually, we do.” Papers rustled in the background. “Our divorce proceedings are becoming unnecessarily complicated. I think we should meet to sort things out.”
I laughed without humor. “Send whatever you need to my lawyer.”
“This would be better discussed in person.” His tone shifted to something more persuasive. “I’m thinking dinner tonight. The Grid at seven?”
“You must be joking.”
“I’m not. This is about the division of our assets, including your company.” He paused for effect. “Unless you want this to drag on for months in court?”
My blood boiled. So that was his game-threatening my business. The company I had
built from nothing, the one thing I truly valued from our time together.
“You won’t get a penny from Evening Gala,” I snapped. “It was mine before we married.”
“But I invested considerable capital during our marriage,” he countered smoothly. “My lawyers believe I have a strong claim to at least thirty percent.”
The audacity! I pressed my fingers to my temple, a headache forming. “If you want to play hardball, Alistair, remember that marriage works both ways. I could claim part of your family’s assets too.”
“By all means.” His easy agreement caught me off guard. “I’m open to negotiating a fair
settlement.”
That’s when it hit me. This wasn’t about money at all. Alistair had more than enough. This was about keeping me tied to him, about refusing to let go. He was deliberately complicating the divorce to drag out the process.
“I see what you’re doing,” I said, my voice icy calm. “And it won’t work. Contact my lawyer from now on. I’m done talking to you directly.”
“Hazel-”
I hung up before he could finish, tossing the phone onto my desk as if it had burned me. My good mood vanished completely.
Cherry poked her head into my office, concern etched on her face. “Everything okay? I
heard raised voices.”
“It’s fine.” I forced a smile. “Just dealing with the ex.”
She grimaced sympathetically. “Want me to order in lunch? That new salad place opened down the block.”
“Yes, please. And grab samples of the navy silk from storage. I need to check them against these designs before tomorrow.”
Work. It was the one thing that could take my mind off Alistair’s manipulations. I threw myself into preparations for Sebastian’s visit, staying far later than planned. By the time I finished, the office was deserted and night had fallen.
My apartment was only a fifteen-minute walk away. The cool evening air helped clear my head. I thought about Sebastian’s visit tomorrow, about the new chapter that
Complications
seemed to be opening in my life. Whatever game Alistair was playing, I wouldn’t let him pull me back into the past.
The lobby of my building was quiet when I entered, just the night security guard nodding as I passed. The elevator ride to the tenth floor gave me time to roll my shoulders, trying to release the tension of the day.
As the doors opened, I fumbled for my keys, already thinking about the hot bath I desperately needed. I stepped into the hallway and froze.
A familiar figure stood outside my apartment door. Tall, impeccably dressed, with that same confident posture I once found so attractive.
“Alistair.” His name felt like acid on my tongue.
He turned, his face lighting up with practiced charm. “Finally. I’ve been waiting for hours.”
My sanctuary. My safe space. He was intruding on the one place I had claimed as fully mine after our separation. Anger rose in my chest, accompanied by something else—a flicker of fear.
“What are you doing here?” My voice was steel, though my hands trembled slightly.
“You wouldn’t meet me for dinner.” He stepped toward me. “So I brought the conversation to you.”
I backed up as he approached, my back hitting the wall of the narrow hallway. Trapped between the elevator and the man who had shattered my heart, I realized this wasn’t just about legal complications anymore.
“Hazel,” he said, his voice softening as he reached for my arm. “We need to talk.”
21:05
