Chapter 165
Chapter 165:
The next morning, Eliza tried to slip out early. She opened her door quietly and checked the hallway. Clear.
She stepped out.
At the exact same moment, the door to Unit 4A opened.
Dallas stepped into the hallway. He was wearing a navy suit, crisp and perfectly tailored, looking every inch the titan of industry he was.
“Sleep well?” he asked, pressing the elevator button. His voice was casual. His eyes were laughing.
“Fine,” Eliza said, avoiding his gaze. She walked straight into the elevator.
He followed. The doors closed, sealing them into the small mirrored box.
“Did you try it on?” he asked. He was looking at his phone, scanning emails, as though he had just asked about the weather.
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Eliza felt the blush crawl up her neck. “No. I threw it in the trash p>
“Pity,” Dallas murmured. “Waste of good lace p>
“Stop teasing me,” she said, watching his reflection in the mirrored doors. “It was Azalea’s prank. It wasn’t an invitation p>
Dallas pocketed his phone and turned to face her. He stepped closer, unhurriedly closing the distance between them. “Was it? Or was it a suggestion p>
“I am not a honey trap, Dallas,” she said, lifting her chin. “I don’t use sex to solve problems p>
“You are a trap, Eliza,” he said quietly. His gaze dropped to her lips, then returned to her eyes. “I’m just waiting to find out whether I can escape p>
The elevator dinged. The doors opened onto the lobby. Dallas stepped back, his expression sliding back into its customary composure as smoothly as a mask being replaced.
“Have a good day at work,” he said, and walked out — leaving her breathless and thoroughly unmoored.
Later at the studio, Eliza was attempting to focus on a cornice molding when her phone rang.
The caller ID read: Victoria Hyde.
The air in the room seemed to turn stale. She considered ignoring it. But old, ingrained fear — the kind that had been conditioned into her over a decade — made her answer.
“Eliza, darling,” Victoria’s voice was strained, trembling. “We need you p>
“I’m working, Victoria,” Eliza said, her voice cold. “And I thought we had established boundaries p>
“The wedding is off,” Victoria sobbed. “Anson postponed it. He’s not well — he’s truly unwell p>
“That’s not my problem,” Eliza replied, gripping the phone.
“He won’t eat. He won’t speak. He just sits in your old room, holding that little blue music box your mother left you,” Victoria wept. “He thinks you’re coming back. He’s delusional, Eliza. Please — just come for tea. To collect your mother’s heirlooms. If you tell him to stop, to his face, perhaps he’ll listen. He needs to hear it from you p>
Eliza closed her eyes. Guilt was a powerful weapon, and Victoria Hyde had always been a sharpshooter.
“One hour,” Eliza said. “To collect my mother’s heirlooms and say goodbye to you both properly. And then I never want to hear from any of you again p>
“Thank you. Oh, thank you,” Victoria wept.