The Billionaire's Mistake

MISTAKE 245

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 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. Chapter 245: Blood everwhere

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

oil.

the counter, instantly. clocking Hazel's disheveled appearance and the spots of blood

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

and marched right back

as he eyed her up and down. "You, uh...you need this for some work around the house,

allowing a beat of silence to stretch out. Finally, she leaned in, pitching her voice low. "Breaking bones, actually. A

a moment, he simply gulped and began ringing up the hammer, seemingly unwilling to ask any

oversized tote. She could already envision its first target - those self-entitled faces twisted in agony as she brought the hammer crashing

smug,

and again.

to exit the shop. Her ride could be waiting, but Hazel was deliciously patient now. Because soon

car and

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

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

the way toward the lounge's entrance with the hulking guards in tow, ready to stride directly into the proverbial llon's

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 was not sure if they would listen. She handed over

the upscale nightclub, her heels clicking purposefully against the polished marble floors. Despite the thumping bass line reverberating through

over. "You must be Miss Greyson,"

secluded back hallway. The server swiped a key card and ushered her into a plushly-appointed private room, shutting and locking the

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,

withering glare as the other men sizing her up like

Tech?" she asked, her voice dangerously

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

her struggle with the handle in vain. " Going somewhere, my

"Do П

you greasy old men

back to face the eerily-quiet room, her expression unreadable. "Well, you can always expect shit to smell like shit.

Crapsel 245, Blood everwhere