Chapter 112
Chapter 112:
She touched her cheek, where the faintest trace of a bruise still hid beneath her makeup. The slap. The “dog” was Claudine. The “bite” was the slap. And the “Koch family member” — was her.
A laugh bubbled up in her throat — hysterical, incredulous. He did this. He decimated a retail empire because a girl slapped his wife.
“It must have been a very bad dog,” Eliza said dryly, fighting to keep her expression neutral.
“Don’t play dumb with me!” Anson’s voice cracked with desperation. “Did you tell him? Is this because of you p>
“Tell him what?” Eliza shot back, her voice drawing strength from the solid presence beside her. “That your fiancée is rabid? I think the market figured that out on its own p>
“He’s destroying a legacy over a rumor!” Anson’s voice broke. “That’s not business. That’s personal p>
“Maybe he’s just protecting his own,” Eliza said. Her voice was hard and final.
She hung up. The silence in the car rang with the echo of his rage.
She turned to Dallas. He was watching her, his expression unreadable. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
W𝗵a𝘵 𝗲𝗏e𝗋уоn𝘦 𝘪ѕ 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝘥іո𝗴 o𝘯 ѕ.𝖼o𝗆
“He burned a kingdom for a slap,” she whispered, awestruck.
“A queen is not to be touched by peasants,” Dallas replied simply, as if stating a law of nature.
The car began to slow. They were no longer in the city center — they were winding up a private road lined with tall birch trees.
“Where are we?” Eliza asked, the chaos of the phone call receding.
“Arrival,” Dallas said.
The trees cleared to reveal a stunning modern estate perched at the edge of a cliffside. It was nothing like the dark, heavy stone of Hyde Manor, nor the cold steel of his penthouse. This house was warm wood, expansive glass, and golden light. The car stopped in the circular driveway.
Dallas got out and opened her door, offering his hand.
“I bought it this morning,” he said, as casually as if he were talking about a pair of shoes. “The penthouse had too many ghosts. This is a clean slate p>
Eliza stepped out and looked up at the structure. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows she could see an open living space, a grand piano, and a view that stretched all the way to the horizon.
“Ours?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Dallas pulled her close, his arm wrapping around her waist. “Yours,” he corrected. “I just live in it with you p>
He led her up the steps to the front door.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Koch p>
The next morning, sunlight flooded the master bedroom of their new home — a stark contrast to the perpetual gloom of Hyde Manor.
Eliza woke alone in the massive bed, but the scent of coffee drifted in from the kitchen.
She checked her phone. A text from Victoria had arrived, sickly sweet and cloying.