Chapter 62
Chapter 62:
Dallas walked in, fully dressed in a charcoal suit, buttoning his cuffs. He looked impeccable. He poured himself a coffee, and his gaze drifted to Eliza’s mouth. A flicker of quiet satisfaction crossed his face.
“There are no strawberries in this house,” he remarked calmly.
“Good luck at the interview,” he added.
He moved past her and leaned in close, low enough that only she could hear.
“Wear lipstick. Red.” His voice was barely above a murmur. “It’s the color of war. Ross will try to intimidate you. Don’t let him p>
Heat rushed to Eliza’s face. Behind her, Azalea cackled into her cereal bowl.
Dallas left the kitchen, concealing a smirk. He had armed her. Let Liam’s friend see that.
The S&D Design headquarters was a glass monolith piercing the sky — intimidating, cold, and beautiful.
P𝗼𝗽𝘶𝗹a𝗿 𝗌𝗍𝗈ri𝗲𝘀 𝘰𝗇 g𝘢𝗹ոо𝗏𝗲𝗅ѕ.𝖼𝗈m
Eliza stood in the lobby. She wore a sharp black blazer and the red lipstick Dallas had suggested. It felt like war paint. She walked to the reception desk.
“Eliza Solomon. 10:00 AM interview for the Junior Restorer position p>
The receptionist typed on her keyboard, then frowned. “I don’t see your name, Ms. Solomon p>
“I have a confirmation email,” Eliza said, pulling out her phone and tilting the screen forward.
A man in a flashy blue suit crossed the lobby from the elevators. He had slicked-back hair and a practiced sneer.
“Problem?” he asked.
“Mr. Ross,” the receptionist said carefully. “Ms. Solomon says she has an interview p>
Gavin Ross. The HR manager. Liam’s squash partner.
Gavin looked at Eliza. His expression wasn’t appraising — it was dismissive.
“Ah. The one connected to the Hyde scandal,” he said, his voice pitched just loud enough for those nearby to hear.
Eliza’s spine snapped straight. “I am applying as Eliza Solomon p>
“We’ve decided not to move forward with your candidacy,” Gavin said smoothly, without so much as glancing at her portfolio. “S&D requires discretion. Your public profile is a bit too messy. We don’t need that kind of drama p>
“Messy? I have a degree and a portfolio,” Eliza said, gripping her leather folder. “This is unprofessional p>
“We received a character reference from Mr. Anson Hyde.” Gavin’s smile was thin and deliberate. “It seems your professional conduct can be volatile. We can’t take that risk p>
Eliza felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Anson. Still pulling strings, poisoning every well he could reach.
“You can see yourself out,” Gavin said, turning away as though she were something to be discarded.
Two uniformed guards took a half-step forward, their presence an unmistakable warning.
Eliza felt tears threatening the corners of her eyes. Not here. Not now. She turned to leave, her dignity in pieces.
The automatic glass doors slid open with a soft whoosh.
A hush fell over the lobby — sudden and absolute.
A woman in her fifties entered. She had silver hair cut in a sharp bob and wore a Chanel tweed suit that cost more than Eliza’s entire tuition. She radiated authority the way the sun radiates heat — effortlessly, and without apology.
Augustina Koch. The founder. The matriarch.