Chapter 291

“Anson Hyde,” Dallas said, the name dripping with venom. “He staged all of it.”

“That son of a bitch,” Weston whispered.

The room was silent for a moment.

Weston looked at Eliza. He looked at his shoes. He looked at the ceiling.

“I called you a bitch,” Weston mumbled.

“You did,” Eliza agreed.

“And a gold digger,” he added.

“I heard that too,” Eliza said.

Weston sighed. He walked over to her, looking like a kicked puppy. “I’m sorry, Eliza. I was just trying to protect him. I thought you hurt him.”

Eliza looked at Weston. Beneath the stupidity, she could see the loyalty.

“I know,” she said. She reached out and patted his arm. “You’re a good friend, Weston. A terrible detective, but a good friend.”

Weston let out a long, relieved breath. “Okay. We’re good.”

He turned to the lawyer. “Shred those.”

The lawyer blinked. “But sir—”

“Shred them!” Weston barked. “Or eat them. I don’t care.”

The lawyer hurriedly stuffed the papers into his briefcase.

“Now,” Vance said, clapping his hands once, “that the soap opera is concluded, my patient needs rest. His vitals are stabilizing, but stress is the enemy of bone healing.”

“We’re leaving,” Weston said. He looked at Dallas. “I’ll handle Anson. Me and the boys. We’ll pay him a visit.”

“No,” Dallas said. His eyes were cold, hard flint. “Anson is mine. When I can walk, I will end him.”

“Understood,” Weston nodded. “Come on, Zane. I need a drink.” They filed out.

Vance lingered at the door. He looked at Eliza, his tone shifting into something unexpectedly serious. “Don’t let his heart rate get elevated. I mean it. I just put him back together — I’d rather not do it again.”

“Understood,” Dallas replied, his voice a low rumble.

Vance gave Eliza a brief nod and left, closing the door softly behind him.

Finally, they were alone.

Eliza sat on the edge of the bed and rested her head against Dallas’s chest, careful of the bandages. She listened to his heart. It was steady. Strong.

“I was so scared,” she whispered. “When I couldn’t find you…”

“I’m sorry,” Dallas said. He stroked her hair with his good hand. “I should have trusted you. I should have known.”

“He’s good at lying,” Eliza said. “But we’re better at truth.”

Dallas tilted her chin up and kissed her again — softly this time, with nothing left to prove.

“I love you,” he said. “And I promise I will never let you go again.”

“You better not,” Eliza smiled through her tears. “Or I’ll find some more scrubs.”

Anson Hyde paced his study.

His phone rang. It was the nurse.

“They’re still in the room,” she whispered. “Weston left. The lawyer left with the papers unsigned. Eliza is sleeping in the chair next to his bed.”

Anson stopped pacing. He stared at the wall.

He threw the phone across the room. It shattered against the fireplace.

“Useless!” he screamed. “All of them! Useless!”