Chapter 147
Chapter 147:
Eliza nodded. She turned and walked back to her room without hesitation. The robe came off and was replaced by black trousers and a silk blouse. She pulled a sharp, tailored trench coat from the closet and belted it tightly. It was armor. She wasn’t going down there as the girl he had shaped; she was going down as the woman he had lost.
The elevator ride felt like an eternity. She watched the numbers count down, and with each passing floor, the heat in her chest expanded — hot, steady, and suffocating.
The lobby doors slid open. The doorman, reading the tension in the air, held the glass door for her and stayed close.
Eliza stepped out onto the sidewalk.
𝘓𝗮𝗍𝗲st chaрt𝘦r𝘀 оո 𝘨a𝗹ո𝗼𝘃е𝗅𝘀.c𝘰𝗺
The wind was biting, whipping her hair across her face. Anson stood near the curb, leaning against his black sedan. He looked wrecked. His usually immaculate suit was wrinkled, his tie loosened, a shadow of stubble darkening his jaw. In his hands, he held a small, iconic blue box. Tiffany.
“Eliza,” he breathed when he saw her. He straightened immediately, a flicker of relief crossing his face. “You came down p>
“To tell you to leave,” she said. Her voice was cold. She remained on the top step of the entrance, looking down at him.
Anson took a step forward and extended the box like an offering. “I brought your favorite. A vintage bracelet — the one you admired p>
“I don’t want it,” she said. “I don’t want anything from you p>
“Stop punishing me, El.” His eyes were wide, desperate. “I know you’re angry about Claudine. I ended it. I threw her out — for you p>
Eliza laughed, a sharp, brittle sound. “You threw her out after Dallas had already turned her and her family into ash. You don’t get credit for taking out the trash after the building has already burned down, Anson p>
“It was business!” His voice cracked, drawing the slow attention of passersby on the street. “My heart was always yours! I did it for us p>
“Your heart is a commodity I can’t afford,” Eliza said. “And frankly, I don’t want it.” She held his gaze. “Go home, Anson. Before you truly lose everything p>
Anson looked stunned. He lunged forward, reaching for her hand.
“Don’t touch me.” Eliza recoiled, her voice sharp as a cut.
The doorman stepped forward. But Anson had already frozen.
His eyes had drifted past Eliza, to the glass doors of the lobby behind her.
She didn’t turn around. She didn’t need to. She could feel the presence radiating through the glass like a current.
Dallas stood there — a dark silhouette against the bright lobby lights, perfectly still, watching. He looked like a predator waiting for an excuse to move.
Anson went pale. In that split second, the vast chasm of power between himself and Dallas Koch became undeniable.
“Leave,” Eliza commanded one last time.
She didn’t wait for a response. She turned her back on him and walked through the glass doors. Dallas stepped aside to let her pass, his gaze never leaving Anson’s figure on the street.