Chapter 60
Chapter 60:
Eliza froze. His palm was warm and dry.
“About your boyfriend,” he asked gently. “Is it serious? Azalea made it sound complicated p>
Eliza looked at his hand, then at his kind eyes.
“Liam, I’m married,” she said. “To Dallas p>
Liam looked shocked. He drew his hand back slightly, but didn’t remove it entirely. “Married? I thought — Azalea just said it was complicated p>
“It is,” Eliza admitted. “But it’s legal. And I take my vows seriously p>
Liam exhaled slowly. He looked disappointed, but respectful. “Lucky guy. If he ever messes up — call me.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
Eliza pulled away. “I have to go p>
о𝗿𝗀𝗮𝘯izе 𝗒o𝗎r l𝗶𝘣𝗋a𝗋𝘆 о𝗇
She didn’t see the black Maybach parked across the street.
She didn’t see the tinted window roll down an inch.
She didn’t see Dallas Koch watching. His hand gripped the leather steering wheel with enough force to make it groan. He had seen the touch. He had seen the way Liam leaned in, the quiet possessiveness of his hand over hers.
“Weston,” Dallas said abruptly into the intercom. “Go p>
Later that evening, Eliza returned to the penthouse.
The lights were dim. The city skyline glittered outside, cold and distant. Dallas was on the sofa with a glass of whiskey in his hand — not drinking it, only staring at the amber liquid.
“How was the strategy meeting?” he asked. His voice was rough, like gravel.
Eliza set down her bag. She felt the mood of the room immediately. “It was fine. Liam gave me tips on the HR process p>
Dallas stood and moved toward her — slow, silent, and deliberate, like a panther closing distance.
“Did he touch you?” he asked.
Eliza blinked. “He held my hand for a moment. To be comforting p>
“I don’t like other men touching my wife,” Dallas said, his voice dropping to a growl.
He reached her without hesitation and pulled her flush against him. His body was hard and radiating heat.
“Dallas, you’re jealous,” she whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs.
“I am territorial,” he corrected.
He cupped her jaw and tilted her head back, his eyes searching hers for any trace of resistance. When he found none, he brought his lips down onto hers.
It wasn’t gentle. It was a claim — a physical overwriting of Liam’s touch. He kissed her until she was breathless, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and demanding everything. His hands tangled in her hair, holding her exactly where he wanted her.
Eliza’s knees went weak. She clung to his lapels, overwhelmed by the taste of whiskey and want.
He pulled back, leaving her lips swollen. His breathing was heavy.
“Now everyone will know who you belong to,” he said darkly.
He released her and walked back to the whiskey, leaving Eliza standing in the middle of the room. She pressed her fingers to her bruised mouth, her heart beating faster than it ever had for Anson.
Thunder rattled the windowpanes of the penthouse. It was 3:00 AM.