Chapter 271
Chapter 271:
“I don’t know what you mean,” Anson said, his voice warm with feigned innocence. “Are you going to the gallery tonight? Diana’s exhibition? It’s a big night for the family. We should go together p>
“No,” Eliza said, her voice shaking. “I am going alone. You stay away from me. You stay away from that gallery p>
“As you wish,” Anson said. “Enjoy the show p>
He hung up.
Anson lowered the phone and looked across the room. Suki was seated at a vanity, a makeup artist applying the finishing touches. She was almost unrecognizable.
“Tonight is your debut, Suki,” Anson said, walking toward her. “Remember — you are Eliza Solomon. The wild version. The one who wants to burn it all down.” He picked up a Venetian mask from the table: black lace, delicate and sinister. “Put this on. The invitation says ‘Hidden Layers.’ Tonight, you are the hidden layer p>
Back at the penthouse, Eliza stood in her closet. She pushed past the colorful dresses Dallas liked, moved them aside without hesitation, and pulled out a black gown. Severe. Elegant. Almost mourning attire.
She would go. She would find Dallas. And she would force him to look at her — the real her — not whatever ghost Anson had conjured.
Serena Q’s Art Gallery had been transformed. The lighting was dramatically low, spotlights cutting through an artificial haze to illuminate the vibrant, emotional paintings on the walls. Guests moved like shadows, their faces obscured by elaborate masks.
ѕ𝗁𝖺𝗋𝘦 yo𝗎𝗿 𝘁𝗁о𝘂𝘨𝗵𝘁s 𝗼ո ѕ.c𝗼𝗆
Eliza walked in. She wore a simple black lace mask that covered her eyes but left her mouth visible. Despite the disguise, she felt exposed.
She scanned the room. No sign of Dallas.
She spotted Serena near the entrance, holding a glass of champagne she wasn’t drinking. Serena looked anxious.
“Eliza,” Serena hurried over, her voice hushed. “You came p>
“Where is he?” Eliza asked without preamble.
“He’s upstairs.” Serena gestured toward the glass-walled VIP loft overlooking the main floor. “In the private viewing room. But Eliza — he gave strict orders. No one enters p>
Eliza looked up. The glass was tinted; she couldn’t see inside. But she felt him. His presence was a weight pressing down on the entire building.
“I’m going up,” she said.
She moved toward the stairs, but a large security guard stepped into her path. “Private event upstairs, ma’am p>
A ripple of whispers moved through the crowd near the entrance.
Eliza turned.
Anson Hyde had arrived. He was wearing a tuxedo and a silver mask.
And on his arm was a woman.
Eliza stopped breathing.
The woman was wearing a black gown. Not merely similar to Eliza’s — identical. The same cut, the same fabric, the same drape. Even her hair was styled in the same loose waves Eliza had spent an hour perfecting. She wore a mask that mirrored Eliza’s exactly.
“Who is that?” Eliza whispered.
Anson guided the woman — Suki — toward a darker corner of the gallery, away from the main lights but perfectly visible from the VIP loft above.
Upstairs, Zane stood at the railing, looking down.