My Great Escape Led Me to You (Emily Blair) novel Chapter 534

Everything was playing out exactly as it had before.

The wound on Dennis Lane’s knee was in precisely the same spot as it had been in her previous life.

Emily Blair felt as if she’d plunged into an icy lake—frozen, breathless, as memories collided with reality.

Somewhere nearby, Isabella Austin called her name, “Emily?”

Emily turned her head, stiff and slow, as if underwater. The pain of her nails digging into her palm brought her back, grounding her in the moment.

When she spoke, her voice was calm and measured, each word clear and steady—no trace of emotion.

“Mr. Lane, are you willing to sell the rights to Black and White Rabbit to Vertex International?”

She looked up to meet Andrew Lane’s gaze.

“I need a clear answer, Mr. Lane.”

Andrew Lane regarded her coolly, lips pressed in a thin line, eyes half-lidded and unreadable.

Nearly everyone in the living room had gathered at the foot of the stairs, watching the confrontation unfold—quietly thrilled by the spectacle.

Dennis, nestled in Andrew’s arms, caught sight of Emily and let out a grumpy little huff, burying his face in his father’s shoulder. He clung tight to Andrew’s neck and, with a sleepy, childish whine, murmured, “Daddy, I’m tired. Can we go home and go to bed?”

Isabella glanced away, her expression hovering between embarrassment and thinly veiled satisfaction. She cleared her throat. “Andrew, Emily, maybe we can talk about this tomorrow? Dennis needs to sleep, and Andrew has to put him to bed. He probably doesn’t have time right now…”

Emily didn’t so much as blink. “It only takes a moment to answer, Mr. Lane—can’t you spare even that?”

Her tone sharpened. “I just need one word.”

Andrew’s voice was low, almost curt. “Let’s talk later—”

“Later?” Emily pressed. “When is that, Mr. Lane? Can you give me an exact time?”

“So, Mr. Lane,” she said, “are you really refusing to answer me?”

Just then, Amelia Lane strode past her and joined Andrew, bending down to ruffle Dennis’s hair. “Come on, Andrew, just tell her already. That way she can stop barging in here all the time. Honestly, it’s getting old.”

Andrew’s gaze snapped to Amelia, his voice suddenly colder. “Was it you who told her that?”

Amelia’s heart lurched.

Since Emily had stopped coming around, things at the Lane house had been peaceful—and Andrew’s attitude toward his sister had softened as well.

But it had been a long time since she’d heard him speak to her like that—so firm, so unyielding.

She hesitated, flustered. “I—Andrew, are we not supposed to talk about it?”

“So you really don’t want to sell to me?” Emily pressed again.