Chapter 522
Chapter 522:
“That is exactly why we need a disguise,” Eliza said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pair of wire-rimmed, non-prescription glasses, then slid them onto Dallas’s face. “From today on,” she declared, “you are not Dallas Koch, the ruthless billionaire. You are my boring, intellectual college professor husband, currently on sabbatical p>
Dallas looked at her through the clear lenses. A low, genuine chuckle rumbled in his chest.
“Roleplay?” Dallas asked, his voice dropping an octave, suddenly thick with gravel.
Eliza’s cheeks flushed bright red. “If you want to call it that p>
The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. It grew heavy and warm. Dallas reached out, grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her down against his chest. He kissed her deeply, tasting the sweet surrender on her lips.
“I will go anywhere,” Dallas whispered against her mouth, “as long as I am with you p>
A sharp knock on the bedroom door broke the moment.
“Boss,” Simmons called from the hallway. “General Vance has arrived. He is waiting in the living room p>
Dallas’s eyes hardened instantly. The professor vanished, and the warlord returned.
“He got here fast p>
“Should I go down with you?” Eliza asked, sitting up and smoothing her hair.
а𝘤𝗍іv𝗲 с𝗈𝗆𝗆𝘂𝗇𝘪𝘁𝘺 оn
“You are the lady of this house,” Dallas said, pulling the glasses from his face and tossing them onto the nightstand. “You are coming down to accept his apology p>
Eliza grabbed the handles of his wheelchair and pushed him out of the bedroom, heading toward the confrontation.
Downstairs, standing perfectly rigid in the center of the living room, was an elderly man covered in military medals. His face was weathered and stern. The ghost of Dallas’s past had finally come knocking.
The elevator doors opened. Eliza pushed Dallas’s wheelchair into the grand living room.
General Vance stood near the fireplace. He was in his late seventies, his spine perfectly straight, his uniform immaculate.
Eliza’s stomach tightened with nervous energy. This was a man who could destroy entire corporations with a single phone call.
But the moment Dallas rolled into the center of the room, General Vance did something completely unexpected.
He did not step forward to shake hands. He did not offer a polite greeting.
General Vance snapped his boots together and raised his right hand in a sharp, perfectly executed military salute.
“Commander,” Vance said, his voice booming with absolute, unwavering respect.
Eliza froze. She stood staring at a highly decorated General saluting her husband — a man sitting in a wheelchair.
Dallas did not return the salute. He gave only a slow, measured nod.
“General,” Dallas said quietly. “Put your hand down. I am just a civilian now p>
Vance slowly lowered his hand. His sharp eyes traveled to Dallas’s ruined legs, and a flash of deep sorrow crossed his weathered face.
“Brandon has been dealt with,” Vance stated bluntly. “I had military police drag him out of his penthouse. He is currently on a cargo plane to a frozen outpost in Alaska. He will not set foot in the contiguous United States for three years p>
Eliza’s eyes widened. Exiling his own flesh and blood to the arctic tundra over a single insult.