Chapter 41

Emily’s tone was cool and steady. “That’s our only condition. You’d better not complain.”
Emma George hadn’t been exaggerating. The apartment Emily rented didn’t have an elevator, but since it was only on the second floor, hauling their luggage up was quick work.
The building itself was old, tucked in a worn-out part of town, but the apartment was surprisingly well equipped. It wasn’t large-just two bedrooms and a small living room-but after a bit of rushed unpacking, it felt almost livable.
Emily unzipped her backpack and pulled out her stack of practice exams with practiced efficiency.
College entrance exams were looming. She couldn’t afford to relax, not even for a moment.
Back at the Lane estate, Andrew Lane had just stepped through the door. The entryway was blocked by housekeepers struggling to maneuver a nightstand.
One of them, sweating and flustered, shifted aside to let him pass. “Sorry, Mr. Lane.”
Andrew didn’t move. He stood in the entry, blocking their way in turn. He recognized the nightstand—it was from Emily’s room. The childish stickers she’d plastered on the cabinet door were still there.
His brow furrowed. His voice was low and flat. “What’s going on?”
The housekeeper avoided his gaze and replied in a hushed tone, “It was Mr. Lane’s order, sir. You can ask him yourself.”
Andrew’s dark eyes lingered on the nightstand, unreadable, as if he were studying something only he could see.
The staff shifted nervously under his stare, sweat beading on their foreheads. The tension in the air was almost tangible.
After a long, silent moment, Andrew finally stepped aside, clearing the way to the door.
The housekeepers exhaled in relief and were just about to haul the nightstand outside when his voice stopped them cold.
“Put it down.”
One of them startled, nearly dropping the nightstand. “But sir, Mr. Lane told us to clear out everything from Ms. Blair’s room. We—”
Andrew’s tone dropped another octave. “Put it back. Don’t make me repeat myself.” The staff exchanged startled glances, hearts pounding, then quickly lowered their eyes and retraced their steps, returning the nightstand to Emily’s room.
Another housekeeper, who had been awkwardly holding her bed frame in the living room, hurried to return it as well.
Only a few minutes ago, Emily’s room had been stripped bare. Now, piece by piece, it was restored to the way it had been.
Andrew headed down the hall to his grandfather Kevin’s study and knocked at the door.
Kevin’s weary voice called from inside, “Come in.”
Andrew entered, his eyes scanning the study without betraying any emotion. He got straight to the point. “Where did Emily go?”
Grandpa Kevin set down his reading glasses and met Andrew’s gaze, his voice grave. “She’s just moved out. She’ll still have everything she needs.”
Andrew’s expression didn’t change. “Why did you make her leave?”
Irritation flickered in Kevin’s eyes at his grandson’s persistence, but he answered anyway, his tone heavy. “She can’t get along with Amelia or Ethan. If she stayed, there would be nothing but constant drama. I’m too old for this.”
Andrew’s lips pressed into a thin line.
He remained silent, but Kevin knew his grandson too well to be fooled.
A hint of a smile played at the old man’s lips, his eyes teasing. “If I remember right,
she and Isabella Austin never saw eye to eye. You seem awfully reluctant to let her go.”
Andrew’s brow twitched. “That’s not the point.”
Kevin’s smile faded. “Andrew, Emily can’t stay here.”