Reese

After six years of loving Julian Grayson and literally keeping him alive with her rare blood donations, Hazel Ashworth is just three days away from becoming his wife when he calls to cancel their wedding. 
The reason? Her half-sister Ivy has been diagnosed with terminal cancer and her dying wish is to marry Julian instead. Hazel watches in horror as Julian takes her handcrafted wedding dress to Ivy, who plans to wear it while stealing not just Hazel's fiancé, but her entire wedding—same venue, same date, even the same cake flavor. 
It's a devastating replay of their childhood, where Ivy's mother Eleanor destroyed Hazel's family by seducing her father and driving her mother to suicide, then spent years pushing Hazel out while Ivy took everything that was once hers. 
But this time, Hazel refuses to break like her mother did. She demands Julian's entire company and two million dollars as compensation, then shows up at the hospital to deliver Ivy's "wedding gift" in the most explosive way possible.
As Ivy plays the perfect dying victim and Julian remains blind to her manipulation, Hazel begins to suspect that her half-sister's illness might not be as terminal as everyone believes. When Ivy has the audacity to ask Hazel to witness her wedding to Julian, the gloves come off completely. 
Now Hazel must decide how far she's willing to go to expose the truth and reclaim what's rightfully hers, even if it means destroying the man she once loved in the process.

The Billionaire Backs Me Up

Chapter 93 - First Snow, Strategic Dinner, and a Necessary Call


The first snow of the season drifted lazily past my office window as I stared at the quarterly report in front of me. My focus wasn't on the promising numbers but on the memory of Damien's voice, tight with concern over my minor injury.


I'd been short with him. Too defensive. The realization gnawed at me.


"He was just being kind," I muttered to myself, rubbing my temple where a small bruise had formed. "And I practically bit his head off."


A knock interrupted my self-scolding. Mr. Vance appeared in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted against the outer office lights.


"Ms. Ashworth, I've finalized the production schedules for next month's collections. Would you like to review them now?"


I nodded, grateful for the distraction. "Please, come in."
