Chapter 262
Chapter 262:
“Perfect,” he whispered. He leaned in, his lips brushing hers. “This is for the world to see.” He paused, his gaze holding hers with quiet intensity, then gently lifted the crown from her head and set it carefully on the nightstand, where the diamonds continued to glitter at the edge of her vision. “But this,” he murmured, his voice dropping as he drew her into a searing kiss, “is just for me p>
The night faded into shadows and the soft gleam of diamonds.
Downstairs, Azalea sighed and picked up her phone.
Dad cancelled the concert. You’re paying, and we’re sneaking out, she texted Forrest.
The next day, the sun was shining — a mocking contrast to the exhaustion Eliza carried.
She pulled her car up to the curb of the university campus where Azalea was finishing her sophomore year. It was lunch hour. She had brought a forgotten bento box, or at least that was the excuse. Mostly, she just wanted to check on her.
She scanned the grounds.
She found Azalea by the student union. She wasn’t studying for midterms. She wasn’t eating.
She was sitting next to a boy. Forrest Lin.
Forrest was leaning close, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from Azalea’s face. The gesture was tender and shy. They looked intimate. More than friends.
Sh𝖺r𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗼𝗎g𝗵𝘁𝘀 oո
Eliza hesitated by the car door. Should she interrupt? Should she play the strict stepmother?
Then Forrest leaned in and kissed Azalea — a quick, slightly awkward peck on the lips. Azalea beamed. Her face lit up with a smile so pure and unguarded it made Eliza’s chest ache.
Eliza smiled to herself. Young love. Uncomplicated. Sweet.
Her phone rang. The harsh ringtone shattered the moment.
She looked at the screen. Anson.
Her smile faded. She answered, her voice cool. “I told you not to call, Anson. The deal p>
“Eliza.” Anson’s voice was broken, thick with sobs. “It’s Mom. It’s Victoria. She’s in the ICU p>
Eliza froze. “What p>
“The stress — her heart gave out this morning. It’s massive.” He was crying openly. “She’s hooked up to machines. She’s asking for you. She keeps saying your name p>
“I…” Eliza gripped the phone. “I’m coming p>
“Hurry,” Anson begged. “Please p>
She hung up. Her mind raced. He’s lying. He has to be. He’s done this before. But then she remembered his face outside the Plaza — the way his expression had shifted from obsessive hatred to sheer panic when he looked at his phone. That hadn’t been an act.
She glanced at Azalea one last time, the girl laughing now, safe inside her bubble of happiness.
Eliza’s fingers moved quickly across her screen, dialing the main number for Lenox Hill Hospital. An automated voice answered.
“For patient information, press one p>
She pressed one.
“Please state the patient’s full name p>
“Victoria Hyde,” Eliza said, her voice tight.
A pause. “I’m sorry — due to privacy regulations, we cannot release patient information over the phone without a passcode p>
Frustration and panic collided inside her. He could be lying. But what if he wasn’t? What if Victoria was dying, and her last wish was to see the girl she had raised? The weight of that old, heavy obligation pulled tight around her chest.
She texted Dallas: Victoria in ICU at Lenox Hill. Going now. Anson called. I know what you’re thinking, but I have to be sure. Don’t be mad.