Chapter 98
Chapter 98:
“Sit down, Eliza,” Anson said, the venom of the previous night worn away to something hungover and uncertain. He shook out his napkin and sat.
“No,” Eliza said.
Anson looked up, his eyes narrowing. “Excuse me p>
“I said no.” She took a step back toward the front door. “I don’t take orders from you, Anson. Not anymore p>
Anson slammed his fork down. “Is this about last night p>
Victoria looked between them, blinking. “What happened last night p>
“Ask your son,” Eliza said coldly. “Or don’t. I don’t care p>
𝖳𝗿𝘦𝗇dіn𝗴 ո𝗼𝗏el𝘴 𝗼𝘯 ѕ.c𝘰𝗆
Anson shoved back his chair, the legs scraping loudly against the parquet. “You’re being dramatic. I came to check on you p>
“You cut the phone lines,” Eliza said, her voice rising. “You jammed the cell signal. You locked me in p>
“Technical difficulties,” Anson scoffed, waving a hand — but his eyes darted away. “The storm p>
“The storm didn’t install a military-grade signal jammer in the west wing,” Eliza cut him off. “You broke into my room. You were drunk. And you put your hands on me p>
Victoria gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Anson p>
“She’s lying,” Anson said quickly, his face flushing. “She’s hysterical p>
“I don’t love you, Anson,” Eliza said.
Her voice was quiet, but it carried through the large room like the toll of a bell.
The silence that followed was absolute.
Anson looked as though she had struck him. “What p>
“I don’t think I ever really did,” Eliza continued. “I think I was just grateful. I was a child who needed saving, and you were there. But gratitude isn’t love. And control isn’t protection p>
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Anson moved around the table. “You love me. You’ve always loved me p>
“I love Dallas.” The words felt strange in her mouth — like a language she was suddenly fluent in. They felt right. They felt like a shield. “He treats me like a person, not a possession. He asks before he touches me. He respects me p>
Anson’s face darkened to a violent shade of purple. “He bought you! He paid for you like a piece of furniture p>
“He saved me,” Eliza said softly. “From you p>
She turned and walked out of the dining room without looking back. She pushed open the heavy front door and stepped into the cool morning air. As she descended the front steps, her phone erupted with a flood of incoming messages. She was out of the jamming zone.
Five miles away, the atmosphere at the Koch family estate was equally tense.
Dallas sat in the library, enduring the mandatory Sunday brunch his parents imposed — a ritual he usually avoided. Today, he had been summoned.
Augustina Koch, his aunt and co-founder of S&D, cornered him by the fireplace.
“Sloane told me,” Augustina said, her voice low and sharp. “About the marriage. Is it a merger? A tax shield? Why wasn’t the board informed p>
Dallas poured himself a coffee from the silver service and took a measured sip, his face impassive. His mind was elsewhere — specifically on the security report he had received twenty minutes ago.
“It’s a marriage, Augustina. Not a corporate acquisition p>