Chapter 22

Chapter 22:

He’s a machine, Anson had said.

Eliza looked at the bracelet. It glittered beneath the hallway chandelier, cold and relentless.

“No,” she whispered. “He’s not a machine. He’s jealous p>

But the doubt was already there. Was she simply an investment to him — one that had just shown the first sign of volatility?

Night settled over the estate. The silence that had felt peaceful an hour ago was now oppressive, pressing down on the roof like a physical weight.

Eliza sat on the floor of the foyer for a long time.

Then the front door handle turned.

Read wi𝘵𝗁о𝗎𝗍 𝘪𝗇𝘵er𝘳𝗎p𝘵𝗂𝗼𝗇𝗌 𝗼n

Her head snapped up. The heavy oak door swung open, and a gust of wind and rain swept in — a storm had built and broken without her noticing.

Dallas stood in the doorway. He hadn’t gone to the city. He was soaking wet, his shirt plastered flat against his chest, his hair dripping. And his eyes — his eyes were burning with a fire that terrified her.

Eliza scrambled to her feet, clutching the velvet box to her chest like a shield.

Dallas didn’t speak. He stepped inside and kicked the door shut behind him. The slam echoed through the high-ceilinged foyer and vibrated up through the floorboards. He walked past her without a word, heading straight for the study, radiating a dangerous energy — smelling of rain, ozone, and bourbon. A great deal of bourbon.

Eliza followed him. She didn’t know why. Self-preservation told her to stay back, but something stronger — a need to fix this — pulled her after him.

She found him in the study, pouring another two fingers of whiskey into his glass, his back to her.

“Dallas?” she whispered.

He turned slowly. His tie was undone, hanging loose around his neck. The top three buttons of his shirt were open, revealing the tanned skin of his throat. He looked wrecked.

“I couldn’t leave,” he said. His voice was rough, like gravel grinding against itself. “I tried. I got to the pad. But I couldn’t leave what’s mine unguarded p>

Eliza flinched at the words. Possessive. Raw. Not financial.

“Is that all I am?” she asked, her voice breaking as tears welled up, hot and fast. “Just something you own p>

Dallas pushed off the desk and crossed toward her, blocking the firelight. “You were with him,” he said. “By the lake p>

“He trespassed! I slapped him!” Eliza cried, stepping forward. “I told him to leave p>

“I saw him touching you,” Dallas said. His eyes dropped to her arms, as if searching for Anson’s fingerprints. “I saw you crying. You were crying for him p>

He reached out. His hand was large and calloused. He caught a tear sliding down her cheek with his thumb. “Stop crying for him,” he commanded. The anger had drained from his voice, replaced by something desperate. “I cannot stand it p>

“I’m not crying for him!” Eliza insisted. “I’m crying because you left! Because you think — because you think I would choose him p>