Chapter 203
Chapter 203:
Eliza went still. The words hung in the air, dredging a half-forgotten nightmare up from the depths of her memory — a different trauma, a horror entirely separate from the car crash that had killed her parents, but just as real. “The… the firefighter. The report said p>
“There was no firefighter. It was me.” Anson stopped pacing and turned to face her, his expression a maelstrom of pain and resentment. “I was sixteen. I climbed the trellis p>
He unbuttoned his cuff and pushed up his sleeve. A burn scar — ugly and twisted — ran the length of his forearm. A permanent, angry map of a night she only remembered in nightmares.
“I’ve hidden this for ten years,” Anson said, his voice unsteady. “Because my father would have disowned me for risking my life for a Solomon. For walking into a burning building just for you p>
Eliza stared at the scar. The memory flashed back in fragments. The heat. The smoke. A boy’s voice, hoarse and coughing: Hold on, El.
“It was you,” she whispered. Guilt washed over her, cold and heavy. The hero of a buried, separate trauma was the same man who had become her gilded cage.
“I saved you then. I’m saving you now.” Anson stepped closer. “Buck, Margo — they are monsters, Eliza p>
“I know,” she said.
“No, you don’t.” He shook his head. “I brought them here. They are in the waiting room p>
𝖳𝘩𝗲 b𝖾𝗌t r𝘦𝖺𝖽і𝗻g ex𝘱𝖾𝗋іe𝗻𝗰𝖾 o𝗇 ga𝗹novе𝗹ѕ.𝖼𝗈m
“Why?” Eliza recoiled, pressing herself back into the pillows. The mere thought of seeing them made her stitched hand throb with phantom pain.
“To tell you the truth. So you understand why I had to be hard on you. Why I had to control you p>
“Control is not love,” Eliza said, tears pricking her eyes.
“It is when the world wants to eat you alive,” Anson insisted. “Let them in. Hear them out. Then choose p>
“And if I choose Dallas?” Eliza asked.
Anson’s face darkened. “Then I burn the world down p>
He opened the door without waiting for her answer. “Send them in p>
Dallas stepped in immediately, blocking the path. “Time’s up p>
“She wants to see her family, Koch,” Anson said, a smirk on his lips though his eyes were flat and empty.
Eliza gave Dallas a small nod. “Let them in. I need to know p>
Dallas didn’t like it — his jaw tightened into a knot of quiet, protective fury — but he moved to the head of the bed and stood there like a sentinel behind her.
Buck and Margo entered. They looked terrified. Buck was sweating through his collar, and Margo clutched her purse with both hands like a shield.
Eliza sat up straighter.
The tribunal begins.
Buck Solomon looked sweaty and small. He avoided Dallas’s gaze, staring at his shoes as though they held the answers to his salvation.
“Well? Speak,” Anson commanded from the corner, arms crossed, playing the role of a grim puppet master.
“Eliza… about the club… I didn’t know Dante would go that far,” Buck said, his voice taking on a whining pitch. “He said he just wanted to talk p>
“You sold me to him, Uncle Buck. For a land deal,” Eliza said coldly. “Don’t lie to me p>