My Great Escape Led Me to You (Emily Blair) novel Chapter 220

A few words were all it took to reignite the simmering anger between the two men.

Alex White let out a cold laugh. After steadying Isabella Austin on the bench, he strode forward, tension radiating off him.

“That’s enough. You don’t get to call the shots here,” he snapped.

“Mr. Lane, I say we just call the police and stop wasting our time with her,” Alex added, his voice sharp with impatience.

Emily Blair’s eyelashes fluttered.

The semifinals of the Starlight Piano Competition were just two days away. If she could clear her name tomorrow, she was willing to accept whatever happened next.

She was about to nod in agreement.

But just then, Isabella Austin gave a soft, almost playful cough.

Alex White’s expression changed in an instant, and even Andrew Lane’s face darkened considerably.

Alex stormed forward, raising his hand.

Emily’s breath caught. She watched as Andrew released his grip on her collar and stepped back, distancing himself, his posture cold and indifferent as he watched Alex approach.

Alex’s anger was palpable. His hand hovered, about to strike. Emily squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself, her head tucked in anticipation.

The crowd that had gathered around them held its breath, waiting for Alex to slap Emily across the face.

But the expected blow didn’t land.

Emily slowly opened her eyes. Alex was standing in front of her, towering over her with a thunderous scowl, his teeth clenched in rage. His hand was still raised, caught between the urge to strike and some last shred of restraint.

Emily’s fingers twitched.

From behind, Isabella spoke softly, “Alex, don’t. She’s just a girl.”

As Alex gripped her arm, a flicker of hesitation crossed his mind.

She was so thin, almost frail—her arm felt insubstantial, even more delicate than Isabella’s. Emily’s body was limp; she didn’t fight at all as he pulled her to her feet.

The sight of her, so weak and exhausted, made Alex’s brow furrow deeper.

He yanked her roughly, his words cold as ice. “Emily Blair, drop the act. After what you’ve done, playing the victim isn’t going to help you now.”

The force of his pull made Emily stumble, her hair swinging into her face. Through the curtain of hair, she glimpsed Andrew Lane’s shoes.

Her head was spinning, eyelids heavy—she couldn’t even raise her eyes to see Andrew’s expression.

She heard his voice, sometimes sharp, sometimes blurred, drifting over the hum in her ears.

“Let the police handle it… Don’t lay a hand on her…”