Chapter 254

Chapter 254:

Eliza smiled at the screen. His protectiveness settled over her like a warm blanket. She grabbed her purse and headed for the elevator.

The Plaza Hotel was a monument to old New York luxury, but as Eliza walked down the carpeted hallway of the fourth floor, it felt like a transit station. Two members of Dallas’s security team flanked her, their presence heavy and silent.

Eliza knocked on the door of Suite 402.

“Come in,” a voice called. It sounded thin.

Eliza signaled the guards to wait outside and pushed the door open.

The suite was in disarray. Open suitcases were scattered across the floor, filled with clothes that had been packed in haste. Tissue paper and shoe boxes littered every surface. Claudine Chapman sat by the window in a wingback chair, wearing no makeup, her hair — usually lacquered into perfection — hanging limp around her face. She looked smaller. Younger.

She didn’t turn around as Eliza entered.

“You came,” Claudine said to the glass.

“You asked,” Eliza replied, standing near the door. She didn’t sit.

Claudine turned slowly. Her eyes were red-rimmed. She held a small velvet box in her hand. She rose and walked to the coffee table, setting the box down.

“This was supposed to be yours,” she said. “He gave it to me, but it was always meant for you. I don’t want it p>

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“Why give it to me?” Eliza asked, her voice cool.

“Because he never looked at me the way he looks at you. Even when he was proposing.” Claudine let out a bitter, jagged laugh. “Consider it a final piece of evidence. Proof of his obsession. I hated you, Eliza. I thought you were a thief. I thought you stole his attention p>

“I didn’t steal him. I never wanted him,” Eliza said.

“I know.” Claudine wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. “That makes it worse. You won without playing. You didn’t even want the prize.” She looked at the ring box. “He is obsessed with you. It’s not love — it’s sickness. He ruined my family just to get to you. He used us p>

“I know,” Eliza said softly.

“What is it like?” Claudine asked suddenly, looking up. “To be loved by Dallas Koch p>

Eliza paused. She thought of the rose garden. The way he held her when she had nightmares. The way he had stood up to his father the day before.

“It’s quiet,” she said. “And safe. He lets me breathe.” She met Claudine’s gaze. “Anson suffocates. Dallas supports. That’s the difference p>

Claudine nodded, absorbing the words. She looked around the disordered room. “I’m going to Zurich. Rehab. Then maybe art school. Somewhere far away p>

“Good luck, Claudine,” Eliza said. And surprisingly, she meant it.

She looked once more at the ring box on the table — the symbol of everything that had gone wrong between them.

“I don’t want it either,” she said.

She turned and walked out. The door clicked shut, sealing Claudine and her broken engagement in the past.