Chapter 269
Chapter 269:
But miles away, in a dimly lit booth at Zane’s private bar, Dallas’s phone buzzed.
He picked it up. A new message from an unknown number.
It was a photo.
Grainy, taken from a distance through the rain, but the subject was unmistakable. The Hyde estate garden. A silhouette of two figures standing beneath the patio overhang, illuminated by the soft light spilling from the house. The woman was wearing the exact pajamas Eliza had been wearing on the video call ten minutes ago — the messy bun, the curve of her neck.
She was in Anson’s arms. They were kissing. Deeply. Passionately.
Dallas stared at the photo. The woman’s hand was tangled in the man’s hair. It looked like surrender. It looked like love.
It was Suki, of course. She had a similar frame to Eliza, and tonight she wore a wig styled precisely to match Eliza’s hair, and the pajamas Anson had purchased specifically for this moment. In the dark, in the rain, in a photograph — she was Eliza.
“God,” Zane breathed, leaning over Dallas’s shoulder. “Is that — is that from tonight p>
𝘙оm𝗮ո𝘤𝗲 𝗮n𝗱 𝘱𝘢𝗌𝘀i𝗈𝗇 𝗼𝘯 𝗀𝖺𝗅𝗻𝘰𝘷е𝗅𝘀.с𝗼𝗆
“Ten minutes ago,” Dallas said. His voice sounded hollow, as though it were coming from somewhere far away.
“She’s lying to you,” Zane slammed his hand on the table. “She says she’s taking care of the old lady, and she’s out there kissing her ex in the rain p>
Dallas closed his eyes. He felt the bile rise in his throat. “Pour me another p>
“No.” Zane took the glass away. “You need to go confront her p>
“Confront her?” Dallas opened his eyes. They were cold and empty. “Why? To hear more lies? The picture doesn’t lie, Zane. She’s wearing the clothes I just saw her in p>
Back at the estate, Eliza shouldered her bag and pushed past Anson.
“I’m leaving,” she said.
Anson stepped aside, his manner shifting with sudden, easy compliance. “Fine. I’ll have the driver take you. I don’t want you crashing in this weather p>
Eliza hesitated, suspicious of the change — but she didn’t have time to analyze it. “Fine p>
She ran out into the rain and into the waiting car.
Anson stood in the doorway, watching the taillights dissolve into the dark.
From the shadows of the garden, a figure emerged — shivering, soaked, clutching a wig in one hand.
“Did you get it?” Anson asked, not looking at her.
“The photographer said it’s perfect,” Suki replied, her teeth chattering. “The lighting was just right p>
Anson pulled a check from his pocket and flicked it toward her. It fluttered to the wet ground.
“Good job, Suki,” he said. “Now get inside before you catch a cold. You have a bigger performance coming up p>
“Will he believe it?” Suki asked, bending to pick up the check. “It was just a shadow p>
“Doubt is a weed, Suki,” Anson said, closing the door. “Once you plant it, it grows in the dark. Any shadow becomes a ghost p>