Chapter 11
Chapter 11:
“She’s terrified of me,” Dallas admitted. The words slipped out, a rare moment of candor that settled over the room like a held breath.
Zane laughed, though it was softer than usual. “You are terrifying, man. You look like you eat puppies for breakfast. You need to woo her p>
“I don’t woo,” Dallas said stiffly. “I acquire p>
“Not with a wife,” Zane advised. “You need soft power. Flowers. Dates. Talking p>
“Talking is inefficient,” Dallas muttered.
Vance glanced up from his laptop. “Anson Hyde is running a background check on the license number. He’s hitting walls p>
“Let him hit them,” Dallas said, his voice dropping to absolute zero. “I want him to know she is untouchable. I want him to know she belongs to me p>
He picked up his phone, unlocked it, and stared at the background photo for a single, unguarded moment — a candid shot of Eliza laughing in a park, taken from a distance two years ago — before locking the screen again.
“Azalea is with her,” Dallas said. “They’re shopping p>
“Good. Azalea is your buffer,” Vance noted. “She humanizes you p>
Dallas stood, reached for his jacket, and shrugged it on.
Fо𝘭𝘭𝗼𝘄 𝘂𝘀 о𝘯.с𝗈𝗺
“I’m leaving early,” he said.
Zane let out a low whistle. “The King leaves the castle before eight PM. It must be love p>
Dallas shot him a look that could have peeled paint off the walls. But he didn’t deny it.
He walked to the private elevator. He needed to see her. He needed to know that Anson hadn’t left a mark on her soul today — not just on her skin.
The penthouse smelled of rosemary and roasted chicken.
Eliza stepped out of the elevator, her arms laden with shopping bags. Azalea followed behind her, carrying even more.
The living room was warm, the lights dimmed to a soft amber glow. Dallas was sitting in the leather armchair by the fireplace, reading something on a tablet. He had changed out of his suit into a charcoal cashmere sweater and dark jeans.
It was jarring. Seeing the titan of industry in casual clothes made him look human. Dangerous, still — but human.
Eliza froze in the doorway. “He’s home p>
Azalea breezed past her. “Hi, Dad! We bought the whole city. You’re welcome p>
Dallas looked up. His eyes locked instantly on Eliza, scanning her face — looking for cracks, looking for fear.
“Did you?” he asked, his voice low.
Eliza stepped forward, feeling like an intruder in this perfect, expensive life.
“Thank you for — for everything,” she stammered. “The car. The help p>
Dallas stood. He crossed the room with that predator’s grace, closing the distance between them.
“It is what a husband does,” he said simply.
From the kitchen, Azalea let out a loud, theatrical gagging sound. “Gross. Let’s eat. I’m starving p>
They gathered at the long dining table, Eliza seated at Dallas’s right hand. Mrs. Higgins, the housekeeper, carried out the platter, smiling warmly as she set it down.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Koch,” she said.
Heat flooded Eliza’s cheeks. Dallas watched the color spread across her face, his gaze dark and attentive.