Chapter 17
Chapter 17:
The memory of the rose garden was still a warm, impossible glow in her chest — but Dallas’s gesture was so unexpected, so quietly profound, that the fountain pen Mr. Sterling placed in her hand now felt heavier than a shovel.
It was a Montblanc, thick and black, resting against the curve of her thumb. The nib hovered over the cream-colored paper spread across the mahogany desk, trembling just enough to blur the shadow it cast.
“The deed to Maple Lake Estate,” Mr. Sterling announced. His voice was dry and professional — the kind of voice that delivered life-altering news as though reading a grocery list. He tapped the signature line with a manicured fingernail.
Azalea was perched on the edge of the desk, swinging her legs. She had already signed a document Mr. Sterling had presented to her — a formal acknowledgment as a potential trust beneficiary, a formality Dallas had insisted upon — with a flourish and a hum that sounded suspiciously like a pop song.
“It’s all yours, Eliza,” Azalea chirped, capping her pen. “Dad was just holding it. Like a really expensive storage unit p>
Dallas stood by the fireplace, one arm resting on the dark mantle, a glass of amber liquid in his other hand. He wasn’t looking at the fire. He was watching Eliza — his eyes dark, unreadable pools that absorbed the light. He didn’t urge her. He didn’t speak. He simply waited, his stillness a stark contrast to the chaotic thumping of her heart.
Eliza looked down at the paper. Eliza Solomon Koch.
For five years, she had owned nothing. Not her bedroom, not her clothes, not even her own time. Everything had belonged to the Hyde family trust. She had been a guest in her own life, perpetually subject to Anson’s whim. Now she was about to own land. A house. A rose garden.
T𝗁e m𝗼s𝗍 𝗉𝗼𝗽ulа𝗋 ոо𝗏𝗲𝘭s оn
She pressed the pen to the paper. The scratch of the nib was loud in the silent room — a friction that felt like carving her name into stone.
She signed.
She set the pen down. It rolled slightly and came to rest against the edge of the document with a soft click.
Dallas moved then. He walked to the desk, picked up the document, and handed it to Mr. Sterling.
“File it immediately,” Dallas ordered. “I want the electronic record updated within the hour p>
“Of course, Mr. Koch.” Mr. Sterling snapped his briefcase shut, bowed slightly, and left the room.
Dallas turned back to Eliza. He took a sip of his scotch. “Done. It is legally yours. No one can take it from you. Not the bank. Not Anson p>
The name made her flinch. A phantom weight lifted from her chest — but it was replaced at once by a sudden, dizzying vertigo. She had property. She was safe. She was free. The realization was too large. It expanded in her lungs, pushing out the air, until she felt lightheaded.
“I need air,” Eliza whispered. She stood, her chair scraping against the hardwood floor.
“Eliza?” Azalea’s eyes flashed with concern.
“I’m fine,” Eliza managed. “Just — overwhelming. I’ll be right back p>
She turned and walked quickly through the French doors onto the back terrace.