Chapter 21
Chapter 21:
Anson touched his cheek, stunned. He stared at her as though the furniture had suddenly come to life and attacked him. The submissive, quiet Eliza was gone.
“You —” he started, his voice unsteady with shock.
Before he could finish, two large shapes emerged from the shadows at the tree line. They moved with military efficiency — no shouting, no hesitation. Dallas’s private security. One guard seized Anson’s left arm and twisted it behind his back. The other took his right.
“Mr. Hyde,” the first guard said, his voice flat and unhurried. “Mr. Koch sends his regards p>
They dragged Anson toward the perimeter fence, his feet carving twin furrows through the mud.
“You’ll regret this, Eliza!” Anson screamed over his shoulder, struggling uselessly against their grip. “He’ll throw you away when he’s done with you p>
Eliza stood alone on the pier. She was panting. Her hand stung — a hot, pulsing throb that traveled up her arm. The adrenaline began to drain away, replaced by trembling. Her knees felt like water.
She turned to look at the house.
On the second-floor balcony, overlooking the lake, Dallas stood motionless. A statue carved from darkness. He held a glass of whiskey in one hand, his knuckles white around the crystal. Even from this distance, Eliza could feel the cold radiating from him.
𝗢𝘳𝘨𝖺𝗇𝘪𝘻𝖾 𝘆о𝗎𝗋 𝘭𝗶𝖻𝗋a𝗿у 𝗈ո.с𝗈𝘮
He had seen Anson’s arms around her. Had he seen the struggle? Or had the angle hidden that, leaving only the embrace? Had he seen her crying?
The doubt Anson had planted whispered in her ear. He thinks you went back to him.
Eliza turned and ran. She ran off the pier, up the grassy slope, past the pool, and burst through the French doors into the study.
“Dallas!” she called out.
The room was empty. The fire still crackled. The scent of his cologne still hung in the air. On the desk, his whiskey glass sat on a coaster, the ice still melting, a small pool of water forming at its base.
Beside the glass sat a small black velvet box. And a note, written in his sharp, angular hand on thick cardstock.
For the new lady of the house.
Eliza’s hands trembled as she opened the box. Inside lay a diamond tennis bracelet — exquisite, a river of stones set in platinum. It was cold to the touch. Heavy. It felt like a payment. Or a goodbye.
She clutched the box and ran into the hallway. “Mrs. Higgins p>
The housekeeper appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel, her expression already worried.
“Where is he?” Eliza asked, breathless.
“Mr. Koch took the helicopter, ma’am,” Mrs. Higgins said gently. “He said he had urgent business in the city. The pad was just a few minutes ago p>
The distant, fading rhythm of rotor blades seemed to echo in Eliza’s memory — a sound she hadn’t consciously registered until now.
She sank to the floor. The hardwood was hard against her knees.
He had left. He had seen Anson, misunderstood, and instead of staying — instead of demanding an explanation, instead of shouting — he had simply withdrawn. He had left a gift and vanished.