The Billionaire's Mistake (Anya and Daniel)



Chapter 245: Blood everwhere

Pivoting on her heel, Hazel marched with purpose toward the end of the alley where the garish neon signs announced a hardware store on the next corner. The bell jangled overhead as she pushed through the doors, immediately greeted by the musty scent of sawdust and machine

oil.

"Can I help you, miss?" The grizzled clerk looked up from behind the counter, instantly clocking Hazel's disheveled appearance and the spots of blood speckling her blouse.

Rather than respond, Hazel simply strode down the main aisle until she reached the tool section at the back. Her eyes quickly settled on a sturdy- looking ball-peen hammer with a wicked claw at the end of the squared head. Perfect.

Snatching it off the pegboard display, Hazel turned and marched right back to the counter, thumping the hammer down with a resolute clank. The clerk's rheumy eyes widened slightly as he eyed her up and down. "You, uh...you need this for some work around the house, lady?"

Hazel fixed him with an icy stare, allowing a beat of silence to stretch out. Finally, she leaned in, pitching her voice low. "Breaking bones, actually. A few very deserving ones at that."

The man shrank back, his bravado faltering beneath her unblinking gaze. After a moment, he simply gulped and began ringing up the hammer, seemingly unwilling to ask any further questions.

Hazel smirked as she slid her credit card through, scooping up the paper-wrapped tool and sliding it directly into her oversized tote. She could already envision its first target those smug, self-entitled faces twisted in agony as she brought the hammer crashing down again and again.

"Keep the change," she told the slack-jawed clerk, already turning on her heel to exit the shop. Her ride could be waiting, but Hazel was deliciously patient now. Because soon enough she intended to deliver some uniquely brutal remodeling to those particular bones in need of

re-breaking.

She returned to the car and it drove over to the club.

As one of the guards opened her door, Hazel drew in a deep, steadying breath. She wouldn't be intimidated, not by these mobster muscles, not by Reeds' oily plans, not by her wretched cousin who wished her nothing but ill fortune. No, this was her moment to push back, to fightProperty © of NôvelDrama.Org.

for herself in a way she never had before.

Well, what a good place for a crime?" Hazel stated with a chilling smile as she smoothed out her skirt and blouse and walked out into the street. She had not fought anyone in a year. She was itching to throw something.

Chapter 245: Blood everwhere

Pivoting on her heel, Hazel marched with purpose toward the end of the alley where the garish neon signs announced a hardware store on the next corner. The bell Jangled overhead as she pushed through the doors, immediately greeted by the musty scent of sawdust and machine.

oil.

"Can I help you, miss?" The grizzled clerk looked up from behind the counter, instantly. clocking Hazel's disheveled appearance and the spots of blood speckling her blouse.

Rather than respond, Hazel simply strode down the main aisle until she reached the tool section at the back. Her eyes quickly settled on a sturdy- looking ball-peen hammer with a wicked claw at the end of the squared head. Perfect.

Snatching it off the pegboard display, Hazel turned and marched right back to the counter, thumping the hammer down with a resolute clank. The clerk's rheumy eyes widened slightly as he eyed her up and down. "You, uh...you need this for some work around the house, lady?"

Hazel fixed him with an icy stare, allowing a beat of silence to stretch out. Finally, she leaned in, pitching her voice low. "Breaking bones, actually. A few very deserving ones at that."

The man shrank back, his bravado faltering beneath her unblinking gaze. After a moment, he simply gulped and began ringing up the hammer, seemingly unwilling to ask any further questions.

Hazel smirked as she slid her credit card through, scooping up the paper-wrapped tool and sliding it directly into her oversized tote. She could already envision its first target - those

self-entitled faces twisted in agony as she brought the hammer crashing down again

smug,

and again.

"Keep the change," she told the slack-jawed clerk, already turning on her heel to exit the shop. Her ride could be waiting, but Hazel was deliciously patient now. Because soon enough, she intended to deliver some uniquely brutal remodeling to those particular bones in need of re-breaking. She returned to the car and it drove over to the club.

As one of the guards opened her door, Hazel drew in a deep, steadying breath. She wouldn't be intimidated, not by these mobster muscles, not by Reeds' oily plans, not by her wretched cousin who wished her nothing but ill fortune. No, this was her moment to push back, to fight for herself in a way she never had before.

"Well, what a good place for a crime?" Hazel stated with a chilling smile as she smoothed out her skirt and blouse and walked out into the street. She had not fought anyone in a year. She was itching to throw something.

With a slight tilt of her chin, Hazel led the way toward the lounge's entrance with the hulking guards in tow, ready to stride directly into the proverbial llon's den.

She felt the Hammer In her bag and hummed lightly. She approached the nightclub and walked past the line to eh very front. When the bouncers saw her, they stopped her and her guards, saying she could not take them in.

Hazel glanced at Marcus' men, "I will be right back, You can wait right here," she instructed them, though she was not sure if they would listen. She handed over the card Mr Reed had given her and strolled into the club.

Hazel strode through the sleek glass doors of the upscale nightclub, her heels clicking purposefully against the polished marble floors. Despite the thumping bass line reverberating through the dimly lit space, she moved with an aura of calm determination.

A sharply-dressed server spotted her entrance and immediately made a beeline over. "You must be Miss Greyson," he stated with an obsequious smile. “Right this way, they're expecting you."

With a slight nod, Hazel allowed herself to be led through the pulsating crowd toward a secluded back hallway. The server swiped a key card and ushered her into a plushly-appointed private room, shutting and locking the door behind them.

Hazel's eyes instantly narrowed as she took in the half-dozen greasy, potbellied men lounging about, sipping expensive whiskeys and passing around thick cigars. In the center of it all was Jack Reeds himself, looking utterly at ease in his usual tailored suit.

"Ahhh, Miss Greyson! So glad you could make it," he crooned with a serpentine smile, not bothering to rise from the tufted leather sofa. "Please, have a seat and make yourself comfortable."

Rather than respond, Hazel simply leveled him with a withering glare as the other men sizing her up like a prime cut of beef on the auction block.

"Is this how you conduct interviews at HUG Tech?" she asked, her voice dangerously low." Locking women away in seedy back rooms to be leered at?"

Straightening her spine, she turned on her heel and marched right back toward the door, fully intent on leaving these depraved cretins to their sordid fun. But the locked door didn't budge, not even an inch.

A cruel smile spread across Reeds's lips as he watched her struggle with the handle in vain. " Going somewhere, my dear? Because our festivities are just getting underway."

"Do П

o not smile, you greasy old men are scaring the ghosts," Hazel said.

With a resigned sigh, Hazel turned back to face the eerily-quiet room, her expression unreadable. "Well, you can always expect shit to smell like shit. Just as expected, you locked the door."

Crapsel 245, Blood everwhere

Reeds' expression instantly hardened as a few of the other men chuckled derisively. "Mind your tone, Miss Greyson," he snapped, stabbing out his cigar. “I am still your boss, and you'll show the proper respect in front of our investors.”

"You know, I was hoping one of you would be stupid enough to lock the door. That way, no one can hear what I do to you," Hazel pulled the hammer from her bag and walked closer.

"Miss Greyson, do you know what you are doing?" Mr. Reeds asked dangerously.

"It seems you brought us a feisty one today, Reeds," one of the investors said.

"Or a mad one," another chimed and they all broke into laughter.

"You see, I have had a bad day," Hazel sighed tiredly. "I suddenly got married out of no where and now I feel like breaking something. Your dirty faces will just have to do."

"Such venom from a delicate flower," one of the portly investors tutted with à lascivious grin. "Don't fret, love...we'll make sure you enjoy yourself thoroughly tonight."

Hazel felt bile rising in her throat at the look on us face. She was surrounded by smug, entitled pigs who thought they could simply take whatever they wanted, rules and decency be damned.

"Have you looked in the mirror first?" she sneered at them.

She instantly picked a bottle of expensive scotch within arm's reach on the bar in her other hand. A cold sense of resolve washed over Hazel as her fingers closed around the cool glass. neck.

"That's enough out of you," Reeds growled irritably, rising to his feet. "Now sit down and have a drink like a good girl. If I have to deal with one more disrespect-"

The words caught in his throat as Hazel whipped the heavy bottle straight at his head with the ferocity of a baseball pitcher. Reeds barely had time to register the shock before the glass shattered against his temple, knocking him straight to the floor in a crumpled heap.

The private room immediately descended into silence. In the center of it all, she loomed over Mr. Reed, her eyes blazing with a fury that could melt

steel.

"How dare you," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "How dare you even entertain the idea of selling me like some commodity?"

Mr. Reed whimpered, his face contorted in a mask of terror as Hazel's grip tightened around his wrist. With a sickening crunch, she snapped the first finger, eliciting a blood-curdling scream from the man.

The Investors watched in horror, their faces drained of color, as Hazel methodically broke each finger, one by one. Mr. Reed's cries echoed through the room, punctuated by the wet snaps of bone.

"Who gave you the order?" Hazel demanded, her voice a lethal whisper. "Who put you up to

Chapter 246: Chaos