Elizabeth Hurley Reportedly Backs Billy Ray Cyrus Amid 'Abusive' Recording Scandal

Elizabeth Hurley has never been squeamish about scandal. This is a woman who rode out the Hugh Grant years, the Versace safety‑pin dress and a tabloid education in how famous men behave. So the idea that she would suddenly lose her nerve over an ugly audio clip and an ex‑wife's fury always felt unlikely.

And, by the sound of it, she hasn't.

According to US reports, the 60‑year‑old actress is standing firmly by Billy Ray Cyrus as his very brief marriage to Australian singer Firerose implodes in public, complete with allegations of emotional abuse and a leaked recording that would make most people drop their phone in disgust.

Hurley, friends say, is doing the opposite: brushing it off and carrying on.

Elizabeth Hurley Backs Billy Ray Cyrus As Firerose Goes Public

Hurley and Billy Ray, 64, quietly began seeing each other last year, an unlikely Anglo‑American pairing that has since hardened into something more settled. They rang in the new year together with Hurley's 23‑year‑old son Damian – as clear a sign as any that this is not just a passing fling.

A source quoted by US tabloid Globe paints the relationship as 'going strong', despite the storm now swirling around Cyrus.

That storm has a name and a face: Firerose, the Nashville‑based singer‑songwriter (real name Johanna Hodges) who met Billy Ray on the set of Hannah Montana when she was 22 and he was 26 years older. The two eventually married, but the union lasted barely seven months before disintegrating into restraining orders and accusations.

Now, Firerose has gone public with what she says she endured. In posts on social media and interviews with US outlets, she has branded Cyrus 'selfish' and 'cruel', and shared what she claims is an audio recording of him berating her over the phone.

In the clip, he appears to mock her history of major surgery and a genetically high risk of cancer. 'This ain't about your cancer gene, this ain't about your surgeries – this is about you being a fing selfish bh!' the male voice yells.

If the recording is genuine, it is hideous. It also lands differently in a culture – and a music industry – that has finally begun to talk, however haltingly, about coercive control and emotional abuse.

Yet Hurley, by all accounts, is not flinching.

'Liz has seen the worst of the worst when it comes to scandals and bad romances so she's not worried at all,' one insider told Globe. Some of her friends, the source admits, do have 'reservations about Billy and this latest drama doesn't help'. Hurley's own view appears more dismissive: that Firerose is trying to cash in now that Cyrus is edging back towards the A‑list.

'No one's going to get in the way of her fun with Billy,' the insider added. Hurley herself has kept it simple in public: 'We are very happy together,' she has said of the relationship. No caveats, no distancing.

Hurley, Firerose And A Familiar Hollywood Script

On one level, none of this is particularly surprising. Hurley has spent a lifetime adjacent to volatile men and messy headlines. She understands how stories get sharpened in the retelling, how grudges become narratives, how ex‑partners can weaponise history. To her, Firerose's Instagram posts about narcissistic behaviour probably look like just another entry in a long catalogue of celebrity grievance.

The source quoted states, rather tartly, that 'there isn't an A‑lister who hasn't been accused of narcissism. It's comical that she [Firerose] thinks she knows more about men than Liz, [who has] dated the best and the worst, all with a smile on her face.'

There is some truth buried in the snark. Hurley has, indeed, seen a lot. That experience, though, cuts both ways. It can bring a cold‑eyed realism about how exes behave in public. It can also breed a dangerous tolerance for bad male behaviour, a reflex to roll one's eyes and carry on rather than ask what, exactly, you're choosing to excuse.

What makes this particular triangle more unsettling is the specific nature of Firerose's claims. This is not a vague complaint about 'toxic energy'. She is talking about a double mastectomy and a malignant gene, and about a man she says belittled that trauma when it suited him to do so.

The allegation deserves something more than a weary shrug.

For now, Cyrus has not offered a detailed rebuttal of the recording in the public domain. His camp has painted Firerose as opportunistic, eager to ride on his notoriety. Hurley's position appears to align with that view: that this is, essentially, a publicity grab from a woman a decade younger than Miley Cyrus, suddenly free and furious.

There is also, inevitably, a whiff of status politics. Billy Ray is Miley's father, still a name with real currency in country music. Hurley is firmly ensconced in the British and American celebrity firmament. Firerose, by contrast, is an up‑and‑coming artist whose profile has exploded precisely because of this row. It is not hard to see why the established stars might close ranks and decide she is the problem.

Yet it is precisely these power imbalances that make accusations of emotional abuse so hard to talk about clearly. When the woman telling her story has less money, less fame and fewer connections, there is a strong incentive for everyone else to laugh her off as bitter.

Hurley may be right about Firerose's motives; she may not. The point is that, from the outside, we cannot know. What we can say is that the audio clip, if authenticated, is ugly in a way that goes beyond the usual 'he said, she said' of celebrity break‑ups.

Hurley has chosen to back Billy Ray regardless. In some ways, that feels absolutely on brand: loyal, stubborn, slightly reckless. It is also a reminder that, even in 2026, a woman's hard‑won savvy about men does not always translate into solidarity with other women whose stories are less convenient.

For now, the actress is content to post bikinis and country‑house snaps, Cyrus is back on her arm, and Firerose is out in the cold, holding up her recording and her scars. The court of public opinion will do what it always does: pick a side based on which story it likes more.

Hurley has made her choice. Whether it turns out to be another chapter in her long, chaotic romantic history or something steadier, one thing is obvious: she is not about to let an ex‑wife's anger dictate who she is allowed to love.