Chapter 164
Chapter 164:
“Dallas!” Eliza lunged to snatch it back.
He raised his hand above her reach. A slow smirk settled on his lips.
“There’s a card,” he said, tilting his chin toward the bottom of the box.
Eliza snatched it up. Heavy cardstock, no written message — just a QR code and the words: Scan for message.
Panic made her irrational. She needed to know who sent this so she could have them erased from existence. She pulled out her phone and scanned the code.
Azalea’s voice filled the silent apartment, amplified mercilessly by the high ceilings.
“Eliza! Wear this for Daddy. He’s been grumpy. He needs a release. Love you — wingman out p>
𝘈𝖽𝗱𝘪с𝘁ivе ѕ𝘵оri𝗲s on
Silence.
Absolute, deafening silence.
Eliza wanted to dissolve directly into the floorboards. She wanted the building to come down on top of her. Azalea called him Dad — but in this context, with the lingerie, with the gold garter clips sitting right there —
Dallas’s eyes darkened. The pupils dilated until the blue was nearly swallowed whole. He lowered the bra slowly.
“Daddy, huh?” His voice dropped a full octave. It seemed to vibrate somewhere inside her chest.
“She means — you know — because she calls you Dad,” Eliza said, stumbling over the words as she backed up until her hips met the edge of the island. “It’s a joke. She’s young. She doesn’t know what she’s saying p>
“She knows exactly what she’s saying,” Dallas murmured.
He took one step forward, closing the distance, trapping her between himself and the marble counter. He placed one hand on the island beside her hip and leaned in. He smelled of scotch and something warmer beneath it. The air between them crackled.
“Is that what you want, Eliza?” he asked softly. “A release p>
Her heart was pounding so hard she was certain he could hear it. She looked up at him. His face was inches from hers. The scar on his lip was impossible to look away from.
“I… I should go,” she whispered. The words barely made it out.
Dallas held her gaze for one more beat, letting the tension stretch until it was almost unbearable. Then he pulled back.
“Take your gift,” he said. He collected the lingerie and folded it back into the box with efficient, maddeningly composed movements, then held it out to her. His fingers brushed hers as she took it. A spark — sharp and real — jumped between them.
“If you decide to wear it —” he leaned down, his lips grazing her ear — “my door code is 1024 p>
Eliza grabbed the box and fled. She crossed the hallway at something close to a run, fumbling with her keys at the door of Unit 4B, and pulled it shut behind her.
She stood with her back against the door, chest heaving, face burning. Her body felt electric — alive and aching in a way she hadn’t felt in years.
She looked down at the velvet box in her hands.
1024.