Chapter 281

Chapter 281:

“I don’t care,” Eliza said. The trembling stopped. Her eyes hardened. “I don’t care about Weston. I don’t care about Zane. He is my husband. Unless he looks me in the eye and tells me to leave, I am not going anywhere p>

Vance studied her — the wet hair, the ruined shoes, the fierce set of her jaw. He seemed to be calculating something.

“You’re stubborn,” he murmured. “Dallas always liked that about you. It’s also what’s going to get you killed.” He checked his watch. “You want to see him p>

“Yes,” Eliza said instantly.

𝘛𝗁o𝘶s𝗮ո𝗱s o𝖿 r𝗲а𝗱𝘦𝗿𝘴 𝗼n 𝗀а𝘭ոo𝘃еl𝘴.𝘤𝘰𝗺

“Prove it,” Vance said. “Meet me tonight. Ten o’clock. The 24-hour diner across the street — The Nightingale. Back booth p>

Eliza blinked. “A diner? Why p>

“Because I’m off duty at ten, and I need coffee that doesn’t taste like it was brewed yesterday,” Vance said. “And because I don’t discuss business in hospital lobbies where everyone is listening p>

“I’m not going anywhere,” Eliza said. “I’ll wait here p>

“Then you’ll wait forever,” Vance said, turning on his heel. “Security has orders to remove you if you loiter more than five minutes. Your choice, Mrs. Koch. The diner, or the sidewalk p>

He stepped back into the elevator.

“Wait!” Eliza called out. “I’ll be there p>

Vance didn’t smile. He simply flicked a business card through the air. It fluttered and landed on the floor.

“Don’t be late,” he said as the doors closed. “I hate waiting p>

Eliza stood alone in the middle of the lobby. The security guards crossed their arms and watched her.

She bent down and picked up the card. Black with gold lettering: Dr. Adrian Vance. Chief of Trauma Surgery.

She looked up at the ceiling, imagining the floor far above. Dallas was there. Broken. Because of a lie.

She crossed to a plastic chair and sat down, her legs unsteady beneath her. A gurney rolled past, the patient on it groaning softly. The sound made her chest ache.

Her phone buzzed. Bella.

“Eliza, where are you?” Bella’s voice was worried. “You missed the morning meeting. Mr. Sterling is asking questions p>

Eliza wiped a tear from her cheek and looked at her reflection in the dark phone screen. She looked wrecked.

“Bella,” she said, her voice finding its steadiness. “I need a favor. I need a change of clothes. Something simple, but professional. Something that says I’m not afraid of the devil p>

“What?” Bella sounded bewildered. “A change of clothes? Now p>

“I’m going to meet a man who holds the keys to my husband,” Eliza said. “And I need to look like I belong in his world p>

The rain had stopped, leaving the city slick and reflective beneath the streetlights.

Anson Hyde sat in the window seat of a café directly across the street from Lenox Hill Hospital. He stirred his espresso with a tiny silver spoon, the clinking sound rhythmic and soothing, and watched Eliza walk out of the hospital entrance. From this distance, she looked small. Defeated. She hailed a taxi and climbed in.

Anson smiled — a cold, tight expression that didn’t reach his eyes.

“She looks pathetic,” a voice said from across the table.