Chapter 144
Chapter 144:
He slid the phone back onto the counter just as the coffee finished. He wouldn’t ask her. He would simply make it happen. Merging their lives wasn’t a question for him — it was an inevitability.
Eliza came out in a robe, tying the sash tight. Dallas turned and held out a steaming mug.
“Black. Two sugars,” he said.
She took it and wrapped both hands around the warmth. “This feels real,” she whispered, entirely unaware that he had just moved her entire life into this apartment with a single tap.
“It is real,” Dallas said.
Saturday arrived, and Eliza was enjoying a quiet morning when a frantic knocking rattled her door.
“I’m running away from home!” Azalea announced the moment Eliza opened it. She was clutching a backpack and looked absolutely furious.
“What happened?” Eliza ushered her inside.
Ne𝗐 𝘤𝘩𝖺𝘱𝘁e𝘳s e𝗏𝖾𝗋𝘺 w𝗲𝖾𝗄 о𝘯 ѕ.𝖼𝗈m
“Daddy hired a new math tutor. Mrs. Trunchbull’s evil twin,” Azalea complained, flopping onto the sofa. “She smells like mothballs and despair. Can I live here? It’s so chill p>
Eliza laughed. “Sure. But your dad will find you p>
“He’s busy buying countries or whatever,” Azalea said, waving a dismissive hand.
They spent the afternoon baking cookies. Eliza was terrible at it — she burned the first batch — but Azalea laughed, and they ended up eating the dough straight from the bowl. It was fun, easy, and warm in a way that made Eliza’s chest ache with quiet longing. This was what a family felt like.
At 5:00 PM, the lock beeped.
Dallas walked in, using his own key.
Eliza stared. “You have a key p>
“The landlady gave it to me. Emergency contact,” he said, without so much as a flicker of hesitation. Eliza felt a jolt of alarm — a ghost of Anson’s intrusions — but it was immediately followed by a conflicting, unwelcome warmth.
He looked at Azalea. “Tutor. Now p>
“No! Save me, Eliza!” Azalea scrambled behind her, using her as a human shield.
Dallas crossed his arms. He looked like a storm cloud dressed in a designer suit. “Azalea, you have a Calculus 101 midterm on Monday. Skipping tutorials at NYU is not an option p>
“Calculus is useless! I’m a Fine Arts major, not some business drone!” Azalea shot back.
Dallas glanced at Eliza, one eyebrow raised. “Is that so p>
Eliza felt the pressure bearing down on her. “Math is important for… mixing paint ratios?” she offered weakly.
Azalea was unimpressed.
“Go home, Azalea. The car is downstairs,” Dallas said.
Azalea pouted. “You’re a dictator p>
She grabbed her bag and stomped toward the door. “Bye, Eliza!” she called over her shoulder.
The door clicked shut. Dallas exhaled, rubbing his temples.
“She’s a handful,” he admitted.
“She’s lonely, Dallas,” Eliza said gently. “She just wants to spend time with people. She hates that empty penthouse p>
“She needs discipline,” Dallas insisted.
“She needs balance. Let her stay for dinner next time,” Eliza suggested.
Dallas looked at her for a long moment. “You’re pleading for her p>
“I’m pleading for the family,” she corrected herself.
A smile crossed his face — rare, genuine, the kind that reached his eyes.
“Family,” he repeated quietly. “I like that word p>