Chapter 296
“Anson Hyde used a body double to infiltrate a hospital,” Dallas said, his voice cold. “He has resources, and he has lost his mind. I want blast film on all the windows, iris scanners on the private elevator, and double the detail on Eliza.”
Eliza placed a hand on his arm. “Dallas, we live in a residential building. You can’t turn it into a bunker.”
He flinched from her touch and pulled his arm away. “Watch me,” he muttered, typing furiously. “I’m not taking chances. Not again.”
The unspoken words hung between them: Not for you. For myself.
When they arrived at The Aurelia, the lobby was already buzzing with activity. Technicians were installing new cameras. A security guard Eliza didn’t recognize checked their IDs before allowing them into the elevator.
The doors slid open into the penthouse foyer.
“Surprise!”
A high-pitched scream echoed off the marble walls. Azalea stood in the center of the living room, striking a pose. Behind her were three massive, bright pink Louis Vuitton trunks.
Dallas closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tell me I’m hallucinating from the painkillers.”
“The head of your new security detail let me in,” Azalea bounced over, wearing a fuzzy white sweater that made her look like a manic cloud. “I told him I was your designated emotional support daughter and that if he didn’t let me up, I’d tweet his photo with the caption ‘Hates Puppies.’ He caved.”
“Go home, Azalea,” Dallas said.
“I can’t!” Azalea pouted. “The estate is lonely. And Gigi is there — she keeps trying to teach me flower arranging. It’s torture.” She turned to Eliza with wide, pleading eyes. “Please, El? I’ll be quiet. I’ll even feed Dallas.”
Eliza forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Let her stay, Dallas. I could use the company while you’re grumpy.”
Dallas glared at his daughter, then at his wife. He exhaled — a sound of total defeat. “Fine. But if I see one pink suitcase in my study, it goes off the balcony.”
“Yay!” Azalea squealed and threw her arms around Eliza.
Across the city, the atmosphere was considerably less cheerful.
The headquarters of Sterling & Drake Group was a hive of activity. Bella Rose sat behind her desk, buried under a mountain of paperwork. With Dallas out of commission and Weston managing security, the entire administrative load had landed on her shoulders.
“Bella?”
The HR manager, a nervous woman named Karen, appeared in the doorway. Beside her stood a young woman clutching a designer handbag that looked like a knockoff.
“This is the new executive assistant,” Karen said apologetically. “Cathey Norton. The one Mr. Koch — the elder Mr. Koch — sent over. He pushed her through with a board directive.”
Bella looked up and adjusted her glasses. The name hit her like a punch. Norton. She knew exactly who this was. Ferd’s bastard. A walking scandal.
Cathey Norton was pretty in a generic way, with long brown hair and wide, innocent eyes. She wore a tweed suit slightly too large for her frame, giving her the appearance of a child playing dress-up. A calculated costume.