21 Sudden Regret in a Storm of Scandal
“Miss Shaw! Miss Shaw! Is it true your sister is dying of cancer?” 1
“How does it feel to know the public is boycotting your brand?”
“Did you really try to prevent your sister from marrying your ex–fiancé?”
The barrage of questions hit me like physical blows as I pushed through the crowd of reporters blocking the entrance to my office building. Microphones jabbed toward my face from every direction. Camera flashes blinded me. I pulled my sunglasses tighter against my face and kept my head down.
“No comment,” I repeated mechanically, clutching my portfolio to my chest like armor.
Someone grabbed my sleeve. I yanked away, nearly stumbling in my heels.
“Miss Shaw! Did you know your blood type isn’t actually compatible with your sister’s? Care to explain why you lied?”
My head snapped up at that. How did they know about blood types? Who leaked that
information?
Cherry, my assistant, appeared like an angel in a storm, pushing through the crowd. “Excuse me! Let her through! No comments today!”
She created a small path, linking her arm with mine to pull me into the building. Security finally appeared, far too late, shoving back the more aggressive reporters.
“This way, Miss Shaw,” Cherry whispered, guiding me to the private elevator.
Once inside, I collapsed against the wall, my legs suddenly weak.
“I’m so sorry,” Cherry said, her eyes wide with concern. “They arrived about an hour ago. We tried calling to warn you-”
“It’s fine,” I cut her off, removing my sunglasses to pinch the bridge of my nose. “What’s waiting
upstairs?”
Cherry grimaced. “The lawyers are here. PR team too. And the board wants an emergency meeting this afternoon.”
I closed my eyes briefly. Of course they did.
“Someone leaked everything,” Cherry continued, her voice dropping to a whisper despite us being alone. “Your company information, medical records, even childhood photos with Ivy. It’s all over social media.”
The elevator doors opened to reveal my once–peaceful office floor transformed into crisis
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21 Sudden Regret in a Storm of Scandal
headquarters. Staff huddled around computer screens, phones rang incessantly, and in my glass–walled conference room sat a grim assembly of suits.
“How bad is it?” I asked, straightening my spine.
Cherry handed me her tablet. “See for yourself.”
The screen displayed a celebrity gossip site with my face plastered across it. The headline made me physically ill:
“FASHION MOGUL HAZEL SHAW BLOCKS DYING SISTER FROM MARRYING TRUE LOVE”
Below was a heartbreaking photo of Ivy in her hospital bed, Alistair holding her hand while she smiled weakly at the camera. I scrolled down to see comments calling me “heartless,” “narcissistic,” and worse.
Three major retailers had already issued statements “reconsidering” their partnership with Evening Gala.
“The internet has decided I’m the villain,” I said flatly.
“We can fight this,” Cherry insisted. “Once people hear your side-”
“My side? That my ex–fiancé stole my wedding dress to marry my dying stepsister? That sounds like the ravings of a jealous woman.”
Cherry had no response to that.
The next eight hours passed in a blur of legal discussions, PR strategy sessions, and damage control. By six o’clock, I had a pounding headache and absolutely nothing to show for my efforts. The public had chosen their narrative, and I was the perfect villain – the successful,
cold–hearted bitch denying her dying sister’s last wish.
“Go home, Cherry,” I said when we were finally alone. “There’s nothing more we can do tonight.”
She hesitated. “Are you sure? I can stay-“.
“I’m sure. I just need a minute to gather my things.”
After she left, I stood at my office window watching the city lights flicker on as dusk fell. Six years of building my brand, and it might all collapse because of Alistair and Ivy’s twisted little love story.
My office door opened behind me. I didn’t turn around, assuming it was the cleaning staff.
“I said I need a minute,” I called out.
“Hazel.”
That voice. I froze, my fingers tightening on the windowsill until my knuckles turned white.
I turned slowly. Alistair stood just inside my doorway, looking like hell. His normally perfectly
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21 Sudden Regret in a Storm of Scandal
styled hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot, his designer shirt wrinkled.
“Get out,” I said, my voice deadly calm.
He stepped further into my office instead. “I heard what’s happening. The media frenzy, the boycotts…”
“And you’ve come to gloat?”
“No!” He looked genuinely distressed. “I came to help. I can make a statement, tell them this isn’t your fault-”
I laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. “Now you want to help? After stealing my wedding dress and marrying my stepsister? After leaking my personal information to the press?”
“I didn’t leak anything!” He ran a hand through his already messy hair. “I swear, Hazel. This wasn’t me.”
“Then who? Ivy? My father? Your family’s PR team?” I grabbed my purse, intending to walk past him. “It doesn’t matter. The damage is done.”
As I tried to move past him, Alistair suddenly grabbed me, his arms wrapping around me from behind in an embrace that felt like a trap.
“Let go of me!” I struggled against his grip.
“Please,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Just listen. I’ve been such a fool.”
“I’m calling security,” I warned, still trying to break free.
“I gave blood today,” he continued, ignoring my threat. “For Ivy. Just one donation, and I nearly passed out. The nurses had to help me to a chair.”
I stopped struggling, confused by this strange confession.
“They gave me juice and cookies,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “And then it hit me
–
-you did this for me for years. Every three months, like clockwork. You’d come to the hospital,
let them stick needles in your arms, drain your blood, and then you’d go right back to work. You never complained, not once.”
“Let go of me, Alistair.”
“I never realized what it cost you. How could I have been so blind? So selfish?” His arms tightened around me. “All those times you were tired or pale, and I never connected it to the blood you were giving me. The blood that kept me alive.”
“Is Ivy dead?” I asked coldly. “Is that why you’re here? Your dying bride already expired?”
“No, she’s…” he hesitated. “She’s stable for now.”
“Then why are you here instead of with her?”
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21 Sudden Regret in a Storm of Scandal
His forehead pressed against the back of my head. “Because I made a terrible mistake. And about Ivy being your sister, you should have told me sooner…
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