Chapter 211
Chapter 211:
Dallas Koch looked directly into the nearest camera, his expression one of cold, unassailable authority.
“My wife and I have cooperated fully with the authorities,” he said, his voice carrying clean over the noise of the street. “The time for secrets is over. The time for justice has begun.” He looked down at Eliza then, his gaze softening in a way meant only for her. “And the time for our life together is just starting p>
He guided her through the doors, leaving the stunned press in their wake. The heavy glass doors of Koch Tower swung shut behind them — sealing out the past, and opening onto their future.
The flashbulbs were a dying constellation in the rearview mirror, their frantic popping fading into the city’s hum.
Moments earlier, Dallas had marched her up the courthouse steps, ignoring the shouting reporters. He had stood before them — a human shield of tailored wool, his arm a possessive band around Eliza’s waist — and answered their questions with a cold finality that left no room for doubt. “She is with me. She is safe. End of story.” Then he had guided her back through the chaos, a king clearing a path for his queen, and put her safely in the waiting car.
Now they were moving. The silence between them was heavier than the press scrum they had just left behind.
Dallas drove with one hand on the wheel, knuckles white, eyes scanning the road with a predatory focus that hadn’t faded since the hospital. Eliza’s arm throbbed in its sling — a dull, rhythmic echo of the chaos — but it was the noise inside her head that hurt more.
He knew. For ten years, Anson knew.
She stared out the window as the city lights blurred into streaks of neon, feeling hollowed out. As though someone had reached inside her chest and scooped out everything that made her herself, leaving only a shell too tired to cry.
𝖸о𝘂𝗿 𝖽a𝗶𝘭у d𝗈se 𝗈𝘧 𝗻о𝗏e𝗹𝘴 𝗼𝘯
Dallas reached across the console without looking at her. His hand found hers, fingers interlacing with her cold ones. He squeezed — hard.
“He used the knowledge to bind you,” Dallas said. His voice was low, a rumble that seemed to travel through the leather seats. “He didn’t save you, El. He invested in you p>
Eliza flinched. Invested. The word felt gross, sticky. But it was true.
They pulled up to the corner a block from the Koch Tower entrance. Eliza wanted nothing more than to go upstairs, lock the door, and sleep for a week. But as the car idled, she spotted the silver Aston Martin parked in the shadows of an adjacent building.
Her stomach dropped.
Anson.
He was leaning against the hood, looking like a man who had been unraveling for days. His suit was wrinkled, his tie loose. He held a thick manila folder in one hand like a weapon. He must have spent the last of his family’s favors to get a car this close — to slip past the outer layers of Dallas’s security.