Chapter 290

Chapter 290:

Weston marched in, followed by a man in a suit carrying a briefcase — the lawyer. Zane trailed behind, looking miserable.

“Okay, papers are here,” Weston slammed a folder onto the bedside table. “Sign here, here, and here. We cut her off. No alimony. Nothing p>

Dallas looked at the papers. He didn’t pick up the pen.

“What are you waiting for?” Weston asked, impatient. “She’s probably halfway to Paris with Anson by now p>

“What if she isn’t?” Dallas asked quietly.

Weston threw his hands up. “Oh my God. Are we doing this again? Dallas, we saw her! We have photos! She is playing you for a fool p>

“She’s a gold digger,” the lawyer chimed in. “The prenup is clear p>

“Shut up,” Dallas said to the lawyer.

“She is not a gold digger.” Dallas looked at Weston. “And she’s not in Paris p>

𝖱𝘦𝗮d 𝖿𝗿o𝗆 уоu𝗋 𝗉𝗁о𝗻𝖾 о𝗻

“Then where is she?” Weston challenged. “Hiding under the bed p>

Eliza kicked the bathroom door open.

She stepped out, pulling the surgical cap from her head and letting her hair fall around her shoulders. She fixed Weston with a steady glare.

“I’m right here, Weston,” she said, her voice dangerously calm. “And I’d appreciate it if you stopped trying to divorce me from my husband p>

Weston stumbled back as if he’d seen a ghost. Zane dropped his coffee cup for the second time that day.

“How the hell did you get in here?” Weston sputtered. “I’ve been at the door the entire time p>

“Magic,” Eliza said flatly.

She walked to the bed and took Dallas’s hand.

Dallas squeezed her fingers. He looked at Weston. “She’s staying p>

“Dallas!” Weston looked betrayed. “She’s brainwashing you! She was downstairs ten minutes ago p>

“That wasn’t me,” Eliza said.

“Rubbish!” Weston pulled out his phone again. “I have the picture p>

The door opened. Dr. Vance strolled in, holding a tablet.

“Actually,” Vance said, “Weston’s evidence is exactly what proves her innocence.” He walked over and shoved the tablet at Weston. “Look at the security footage from the parking lot. Frame 347. I zoomed in. Look at the woman’s left wrist as she fixes Hyde’s collar p>

Weston squinted at the image. “So? It’s a wrist p>

“Exactly. A perfectly clear, unblemished wrist,” Vance said. He swiped the screen, bringing up a high-resolution photograph from the Koch medical file — a close image of Eliza’s wrist. He pointed to a faint, silvery line. “Now look at this. Eliza has a childhood scar right here. Anson’s double doesn’t p>

Vance turned to Eliza. “Show him p>

Eliza raised her left hand and turned her wrist toward the light. The scar was faint, almost invisible, but undeniably there.

“And another thing,” Dallas spoke up, his voice stronger now. “The woman in the parking lot — she walked with a sway. Eliza walks purposefully p>

“Like she’s marching to war,” Vance added helpfully.

Weston lowered the tablet. He looked at the screen, then at Eliza’s wrist, then back at the screen. The certainty on his face began to crumble, replaced by a dawning, horrified understanding.

“So…” Weston started, his face flushing a deep red. “There really is a double p>

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