Chapter 81
Chapter 81:
Chaos erupted. The woman shrieked as freezing water soaked through her couture gown. Security guards started pushing through the crowd.
“You little —!” The drenched woman lunged at Azalea, nails aimed at her face.
Eliza moved without thinking. She jumped up and stepped between them, putting her own body in front of Azalea.
The woman’s nails raked down Eliza’s arm, leaving three livid red scratches.
“Azalea!” Eliza gasped, shoving the woman back.
The crowd parted.
Dallas came through from the terrace. He took in the ice on the floor, the screaming woman, and then his eyes landed on the blood on Eliza’s arm.
“Don’t. Touch. Them p>
It wasn’t a shout. It was a command — low and absolute — and it cut through the music and froze the blood of everyone within twenty feet.
Vanessa Star was efficient. Within seconds she had cleared the area, ushering the soaking wet, screaming women out with the threat of a lifetime ban.
“Show’s over! Drink up!” Vanessa called to the gawking crowd.
ոo𝗏𝘦l𝘴 𝘪𝗻 𝗍𝗿е𝗻𝖽 о𝗇
In the relative quiet of the managed corridor, Dallas was inspecting Eliza’s arm. He held her wrist with great care, but his jaw was locked so tight a muscle was jumping beneath the skin.
It was a small scratch. To Dallas, it was a declaration of war.
“I’m fine, Dallas,” Eliza said, trying to calm him. “Azalea was just defending me p>
Dallas looked at Azalea. His daughter was damp from the splashback, hair plastered to her face, expression caught somewhere between defiance and a flicker of apprehension.
“She called you a gold digger,” Azalea muttered, crossing her arms. “And she insulted you p>
“And you dumped ice on a Senator’s daughter,” Dallas noted dryly.
“She deserved it,” Azalea insisted.
Dallas sighed. He looked from Azalea to Eliza. Then, barely perceptible, a smirk appeared at the corner of his lips.
“Good aim,” he said.
Azalea beamed. The tension broke. Eliza laughed with relief, leaning back against the wall.
Zane walked up, applauding slowly. “Thoroughly entertaining. ‘Mrs. Koch,’ huh? Very official p>
Azalea turned bright red. “It slipped out! It was the heat of the moment p>
She grabbed Eliza’s uninjured arm. “Everyone, meet Eliza — my dad’s Trophy Wife. Look at her, she’s winning,” Azalea joked, covering her embarrassment with humor.
Eliza rolled her eyes. “I prefer ‘Bodyguard.’ I took a scratch for you p>
“You are both a mess,” Dallas said, surveying their ruined outfits. Eliza’s silver dress had wine splashed across it from the scuffle.
“We need to go home,” Eliza said.
“No,” Dallas said, checking his phone. “The paparazzi are outside. Someone tipped them off about the fight. They’ll smell blood, and I won’t let them photograph you like this.” He paused. “Vanessa has a private suite upstairs. We’ll go there p>
He turned to Zane. “There are spare clothes for Azalea in the car. Get them and bring them up p>
“And for Eliza?” Zane asked.
“I have clothes for Eliza here,” Dallas said.
Eliza frowned. “Here? Why p>
“Just come,” Dallas said.
He didn’t wait for an argument. He swept her up into his arms, lifting her effortlessly bridal style.