Before long, Emily Blair started to notice something odd—her water bottle was never empty. Every time she took a sip, the temperature was just right, perfectly soothing on her throat.
She couldn’t help but purse her lips, half amused, half exasperated.
Emily really was upset—furious, in fact—but she still couldn’t understand why Tristan Davis had lost his temper like that the other day, as if Andrew Lane were some mortal enemy.
Still, no matter how angry she got, Emily could never stay mad at Tristan for long.
He had helped her too many times to count, and she never forgot it.
Time slipped by quickly, and soon enough, the hour came for her meeting with Andrew Lane.
As she climbed into the car, Emily shot Tristan a warning look. “Don’t follow me. Just stay with Elizabeth and behave yourself.”
Tristan stood outside the car, nodding obediently.
Emily didn’t trust him to actually listen, so she pulled Elizabeth Wilson aside right in front of Tristan. “Please, keep an eye on him. Don’t let him follow me—no matter what.”
Elizabeth, who knew all too well the tangled history between Emily and Andrew, just nodded without hesitation. “Alright, go handle your business. Call me if you need anything.”
Emily gave a grateful nod and told the driver to go.
Tristan’s eyes followed the car until it disappeared down the street. Only then did he reluctantly look away.
Elizabeth smacked him on the shoulder. “Hey, what happened to your face? Did someone hit you?”
Tristan touched his cheek and grunted in response.
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “That’s odd. Who would hit you in the face?”
She remembered the strange tension lately between Emily and Tristan, and a suspicion flashed through her mind. “Don’t tell me—it was Emily, wasn’t it?”


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