Chapter 3 - A Wedding Stolen, A Fury Unleashed
The satisfying slam of the door behind Julian and his mother wasn't nearly enough. The moment they stepped outside, I sank to the floor, my body trembling with rage. Six years. Six years I had given Julian Grayson, and this was how he repaid me.
My dog, Bentley, a gentle golden retriever who usually avoided conflict, sensed my distress and padded over. His warm body pressed against mine, offering silent comfort.
"You're the only male I can trust," I whispered, burying my face in his soft fur.
The doorbell rang again. I jerked my head up, fury rekindled.
"What now?" I hissed.
Through the peephole, I saw Julian standing there alone, shifting nervously from one foot to another.
"Hazel?" he called through the door. "I forgot my watch collection."
I glanced at the expensive box sitting on the side table—the one containing the luxury watches I'd gifted him over the years. Something dark and vengeful rose inside me.
"Oh, you want your watches?" I shouted back.
I grabbed the box, yanked the door open, and thrust it into his startled hands. Then I reached for the papers we'd just signed.
"And here's our agreement," I snarled, flinging the papers in his face. "Take it all and get out of my life!"
"Hazel, please—"
"Bentley," I commanded, pointing at Julian. "Sic him!"
My usually docile retriever, picking up on my rage, started barking furiously. Julian stumbled backward in alarm as Bentley lunged forward, stopping just at the threshold.
"You're crazy!" Julian gasped, retreating down the steps.
"I'm crazy? You're marrying my dying sister in my wedding dress!" I screamed after him. "Get off my property before I let him loose for real!"
I slammed the door again, hearing Julian's hasty retreat. The adrenaline coursing through me was both exhilarating and exhausting.
"Good boy," I whispered to Bentley, who immediately returned to his gentle self, licking my hand as if in apology for his brief ferocity.
Sleep eluded me that night. By morning, I was operating on pure vindictive energy. The two million dollars sat in my account like blood money. I dressed carefully in a crimson blouse and black skirt—war colors. My makeup was flawless, armor against the day ahead.
My phone rang as I was gathering my purse. My father's name flashed on the screen. I contemplated ignoring it but decided to face him head-on.
"Hello, Father."
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Harrison Ashworth's voice boomed through the speaker. "Julian called me. You set your dog on him?"
I laughed coldly. "Bentley didn't touch your precious almost-son-in-law. Unlike Julian, he knows the meaning of loyalty."
"You listen to me, girl," my father growled. "Ivy is dying. The least you can do is show some compassion."
"Compassion?" The word tasted bitter. "Where was Ivy's compassion when she stole my fiancé? Where was your compassion when you let your new wife drive my mother to depression?"
"Don't you dare bring your mother into this! Eleanor has been nothing but good to you—"
"Good to me?" I interrupted incredulously. "She's been trying to push me out of your life since day one! And now her daughter is marrying my fiancé, and you're defending them?"
"Ivy deserves some happiness in her final months," he insisted. "And Julian's doing the honorable thing."
"The honorable thing would have been for him to stay faithful to me," I snapped. "But don't worry, Father. I'm coming to the hospital today to give Ivy my blessing—and my wedding jewelry."
"You are?" His suspicion was palpable.
"Four o'clock. Don't be late." I hung up before he could respond.
At the hospital, I marched through the sterile hallways with purpose, the velvet jewelry box in one hand and another, larger bag in the other. I paused outside Ivy's private room, hearing voices within.
"She's always been jealous of you," Eleanor's unmistakable voice drifted through the partially open door. "Even as a child, she resented that you were prettier, more talented."
I bit back a laugh. The delusion was astonishing.
"She's probably celebrating that I'm dying," Ivy's weak voice replied. "She never wanted a sister."
"That's not true, darling. But she's always been difficult, just like her mother. Harrison should never have married that woman."
My blood boiled at the mention of my mother. I'd heard enough. I pushed the door open with more force than necessary, making Eleanor jump.
"Hazel!" she exclaimed, her hand fluttering to her throat. "We didn't hear you come in."
"Clearly," I said dryly. "Please, don't stop on my account. You were saying something about my mother?"
Eleanor at least had the decency to flush. Ivy lay in the hospital bed, looking pale and thin, but her eyes still held that calculating light I knew too well.
"I brought you something," I said, approaching the bed. I placed the velvet box on her lap. "Your fiancé paid quite handsomely for this."
Ivy opened the box, her eyes widening at the sapphire and diamond set. "They're beautiful," she murmured, lifting the necklace.
"Yes, they are," I agreed. "Custom-designed to match my eyes—not yours. But I suppose that's fitting. Julian never could see clearly."
The door opened again, and my father entered, followed closely by Julian. Their expressions shifted from surprise to wariness when they saw me standing by Ivy's bed.
"Hazel," my father acknowledged stiffly. "I didn't expect you so soon."
"I had another gift to deliver," I explained, holding up the second bag. "A traditional Chinese custom to drive away bad luck."
Before anyone could react, I pulled out a string of firecrackers from my bag and lit them with a small lighter. The rapid popping filled the room as I tossed them onto the floor.
"What are you doing?" Eleanor shrieked, jumping back.
The smoke detectors wailed in response, and seconds later, the sprinklers activated, drenching everyone in the room. Ivy screamed as water soaked her hospital gown and bedding. Julian lunged forward to shield her, getting equally drenched.
"Hazel, have you lost your mind?" my father roared, his expensive suit now ruined.
I stood calmly in the downpour, water streaming down my face. "Just bringing good fortune to the happy couple," I said sweetly.
Nurses and security rushed in, evacuating patients from nearby rooms. In the chaos, I was escorted out, but not before catching Ivy's look of pure hatred. It warmed my heart more than any firecracker could.
Two hours later, after Ivy had been moved to a new room and everyone had changed into dry clothes, I returned. This time, hospital security eyed me suspiciously.
"I'm just here to talk," I assured them, hands raised in mock surrender.
Inside the new room, the atmosphere was frigid. My father stood protectively by Ivy's bed, while Julian sat in a chair, head in his hands. Eleanor glared at me from across the room.
"You're lucky they didn't arrest you," my father hissed.
"It was an accident," I replied innocently. "Chinese weddings traditionally include firecrackers. I was just honoring the cultural significance of marriage."
"This isn't funny, Hazel," Julian finally spoke, looking up with bloodshot eyes. "Ivy could have gotten seriously ill from that stunt."
"Oh? I thought she was already seriously ill," I countered.
Ivy reached for Julian's hand. "It's okay," she said weakly. "She's just upset. I understand."
"Don't pretend to understand anything about me," I said, my voice dangerously low. "Let's get one thing straight—I know exactly what you're doing, Ivy. You've been trying to take everything from me since we were children."
"That's not true!" she protested, tears welling in her eyes. "I've always looked up to you!"
"Is that why you're marrying my fiancé?" I asked coldly.
"It just happened," Julian interjected. "We didn't plan it—"
"Oh please," I scoffed. "Nothing just happens with Ivy. Every move is calculated."
"She's dying, Hazel!" My father's voice cracked. "Can't you find some compassion?"
"Like the compassion you showed my mother?" I fired back. "Or the compassion Ivy showed when she cut up my prom dress? Or when she spread rumors that I slept with my design professor to get good grades?"
Ivy had the audacity to look shocked. "That was years ago! I've changed!"
"Have you?" I pulled out my phone, showing them the screen. "Then explain this Instagram post from last week, where you're posing in my wedding venue—with my wedding planner!"
Julian paled. "What?"
"Oh, didn't she tell you? Ivy's been planning this for months. The cancer diagnosis just gave her the perfect excuse."
"Is this true?" Julian asked Ivy, whose face had taken on a calculating look.
"Of course not," she said quickly. "I was just... exploring options. I never thought—"
"She didn't just steal my fiancé," I interrupted, addressing the room. "She's taking my entire wedding. Same venue, same date, same dress design—even the same damn cake flavor!"
A heavy silence fell over the room. Julian looked confused, my father uncomfortable, and Eleanor defiant. Ivy's mask slipped for just a moment, revealing a glint of triumph in her eyes.
"Well," she finally said, her voice soft but unmistakably smug, "it seemed a shame to waste all your hard work. And since we're family, I thought you wouldn't mind sharing."
Julian squeezed her hand, nodding. "That's right. We're keeping it in the family, Hazel. Your efforts won't go to waste."
I stared at him, incredulous at his blindness. My fingers curled into fists at my sides as I fought to maintain my composure.
"What's it like?" I asked, my voice dripping with contempt. "Keeping the benefits within the family?"