Chapter 506
Chapter 506:
She waved goodbye and walked toward Damon’s waiting car.
Eliza watched them leave. A profound sense of relief washed over her. The external enemies were finally gone — Dosha was in jail, Ferd was exiled. But when she turned and looked through the glass doors, she saw Dallas sitting alone in the study, staring blankly at the wall.
Her stomach plummeted. The biggest enemy was still here. It lived inside Dallas’s own broken mind.
Vinnie jogged across the patio, holding a tablet. “Madam,” he said, his face a mixture of excitement and dread. “I have one piece of good news and one piece of bad news p>
“Give me the good news,” Eliza said, crossing her arms.
“Dr. Albright finally reviewed the files,” Vinnie said. “He agreed to take Dallas as a patient. He is willing to perform the nerve reconstruction surgery on his legs p>
Eliza gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Thank God. What is the bad news p>
“The surgery must be performed at his private facility in Boston,” Vinnie explained, his voice dropping. “And Dr. Albright stated clearly that the success rate is exactly fifty percent. If it fails, the nerve damage becomes permanent. He will never walk again p>
Eliza gripped the edge of the stone railing, her knuckles turning white.
“If there is even a one percent chance, we are taking it,” Eliza said fiercely.
She looked back at the study. She knew the medical odds weren’t the real problem. The real problem was going to be convincing a terrified, traumatized Dallas to leave his safe house and risk everything on a coin toss.
𝘑oi𝗻 𝘵𝗵𝖾 𝗰𝗈𝘮𝗆𝘂n𝘪𝘁у 𝘢𝘵.с𝗼m
Three days passed in agonizing silence.
Dallas continued his physical therapy in the home gym, but his progress was completely stagnant. He refused to push himself, terrified of failing.
Eliza sat on the living room sofa, reading a book, trying to figure out how to bring up the Boston surgery.
The front doorbell rang.
Simmons walked into the living room carrying a massive, obnoxious bouquet of three dozen red roses. “Madam, a delivery for you,” he said, setting the heavy vase on the coffee table.
Dallas was sitting in his wheelchair near the fireplace. The moment he saw the red roses, his eyes narrowed into dangerous, lethal slits.
“Who sent those?” Dallas demanded, his voice dropping an entire octave.
“Oh,” Eliza said, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “It is from Patrick Stone. He was my senior in college. He is a very famous architect now p>
“Throw them in the trash,” Dallas ordered immediately, his jaw ticking.
“Why? They are beautiful,” Eliza said, intentionally poking the bear. “The card says he just wanted to congratulate me on joining the Trust Committee p>
Dallas grabbed the joystick of his wheelchair and shoved it forward violently. The heavy motorized chair lurched across the rug and slammed directly into the wooden stand holding the vase. The vase tipped over and crashed onto the floor. Water and red petals spilled everywhere.
“Oops,” Dallas said, his face completely deadpan. “My hand slipped p>