Chapter 52
Chapter 52:
“I checked the ingredients,” he said flatly. “No mango. No artificial dyes. No poison p>
Eliza picked up the bag. “Is this — a contract amendment?” she asked weakly.
“No,” Dallas said. “It’s dessert. Eat it and stop talking about the contract p>
He returned to the chair and opened his laptop.
“I’m working now,” he said, not looking at her. “Since you love business so much p>
Eliza opened the bag and put a red gummy bear in her mouth. It was sweet and yielding.
She watched him type. His jaw was set, tight with controlled irritation. He was angry. But he was still here — sitting in an uncomfortable hospital chair, eating her oatmeal, and bringing her candy.
Her attempt to push him away had failed. Or perhaps, she thought, he had simply decided not to be pushed.
Morning light filtered through the hospital blinds, painting thin stripes across the linoleum floor.
𝘙𝗲a𝖽 𝘁𝘩𝖾 𝘭𝘢𝗍𝖾𝗌t t𝗿𝖾𝗻𝖽𝘴 𝗼𝘯
Dallas was already awake. He had shaved in the small bathroom and changed into a fresh suit that Weston, his driver, had brought up earlier. He looked crisp, professional, and entirely distant.
“The doctor says you can be discharged this afternoon,” he said, checking his watch. “I have a meeting with the legal team regarding the incident at The Plaza. Weston will stay outside your door p>
“Thank you,” Eliza said.
She missed the man who had slept in the chair beside her. This was the CEO.
“I’ll see you at home,” he said.
He turned and walked out without a kiss. Without a touch.
The chill settled into the room the moment he was gone. She had asked for business only, and she had gotten it. So why did it hurt this much?
Down in the lobby, chaos was building again.
Anson Hyde had returned. He looked as though he hadn’t slept. He was still wearing the tuxedo from the night before — minus the tie, the collar open, a day’s worth of stubble on his jaw.
He tried to move past the reception desk and head for the elevators.
Two large bodyguards in black suits stepped into his path like a wall.
“Mr. Hyde,” one of them said, his voice flat. “You are not permitted p>
“I need to see her!” Anson’s voice cracked. “Get out of my way p>
“Ms. Solomon has no brother on record,” the guard stated, without expression.
“I’m going up there!” Anson tried to push past them. It was like a child throwing himself against a tank.
People in the lobby had stopped. Phones were out. The flashes started.
The elevator doors opened. Dallas stepped out.
He took in the scene — Anson making a spectacle of himself, the gathering crowd, the recording phones — and walked over. The lobby parted for him like water.
“Hyde,” Dallas said, his voice perfectly even. “You are embarrassing yourself p>
Anson spun around, his eyes wild. “You! You’re keeping her from me! You have guards blocking the elevators p>
“She doesn’t want to see you,” Dallas said.