Chapter 77

The assistant wiped the sweat from his forehead and replied in a low voice,
“Understood. I’ll take care of it.”
Habit made him hesitate after speaking, waiting for his boss to end the call first—as always.
But half a minute dragged by, and the line was still open.
Bracing himself, he asked, “Mr. Lane, is there anything else you need?”
Andrew Lane was silent for a moment, his tone deep and reserved. “Forget it. I’ll come take a look myself.”
The assistant blinked in surprise and glanced at his watch. “Right now? But it’s almost midnight, and your place is a half-hour drive from here. Wouldn’t it be better to wait until morning?”
Andrew’s voice turned steely. “I said now.”
The assistant immediately caught the determination in his tone and adjusted without another word. “Alright. I’ll have someone pick you up.”
“Andrew!”
Before he could finish arranging things, a sweet, feminine voice came from the other end of the line, laced with just a hint of urgency.
He knew that voice all too well.
Lately, whenever Ms. Austin had free time, Andrew Lane would bring her to the office. Since Isabella Austin had returned from abroad, nearly everyone at I&A had gotten to know the future Mrs. Lane.
As Andrew’s assistant, he’d heard her voice countless times-there was no mistaking it.
It was Ms. Austin.
He fell silent at once, giving his boss and Isabella some privacy.
Andrew’s voice grew a little distant, but the warmth in his tone was unmistakable. “What’s wrong?”
Isabella’s voice floated closer, followed by the soft rustle of movement-she must have gone over to hug Andrew.
Her tone was playful, almost coaxing. “Andrew, I want to see a movie tonight. Will you come with me?”
Before Andrew could even respond, Isabella pressed on, “I mean right now! In a few days I’ll be busy with work and won’t have time. There’s a film everyone’s raving about and it’s still showing-I want to see it too.”
“Please, Andrew? Didn’t you say you’d always listen to me?”
“Or do you have something more important than me to take care of right now?”
The pressure was palpable, even for the assistant listening in. He pressed his lips together and waited quietly for Andrew’s answer.
Truthfully, he already knew what it would be. Everyone did: when it came to Isabella Austin, she always came first for Andrew Lane.
Sure enough, after a brief pause, Andrew said, “Alright.”
Isabella cheered, “I knew you were the best, Andrew!”
The assistant jumped in right away, “I’ll have Jack come pick you two up.”
“No need,” Andrew said. “I’ll drive myself.”
“Understood. And about Ms. Blair-?”
“That’s all,” Andrew replied.
This time, Andrew hung up much more decisively.
Once the call ended, the assistant let out a long breath and glanced apologetically
at the window of Emily’s rented apartment across the street. “Sorry, Ms. Blair, this was Mr. Lane’s decision.”
The next morning, when Emily Blair dragged herself out of bed, every inch of her body ached. Her muscles felt knotted and strained, as if she’d been torn apart and stitched back together.
Even sitting up was agony.
Biting her lip, she forced herself into the bathroom to wash up, then hurriedly applied fresh bandages to her bruises.
By the time she sat down at the table for breakfast, the clock was already pointing to forty-five minutes past the hour-only fifteen minutes until her first class. There was no time to eat. She grabbed her bag and hurried out the door.
Every step sent shocks of pain through her body, turning her face pale.
It was normally a seven or eight minute walk to campus, but today it took her fifteen, and she barely made it in time.
Just as she turned a corner, she caught sight of a familiar car following her down the street.
She frowned, ignoring her discomfort and quickening her pace.
When she finally slipped into the classroom, she spotted Amelia Lane, vibrant and energetic, sitting right at Emily’s desk, barking orders at her little clique like a queen bee.
Emily tried to breeze past her, but Amelia’s voice rang out, sharp and mocking.
“Well, if it isn’t Emily Blair-the brave whistleblower who exposed plagiarism?”
Her tone dripped with sarcasm, and she put extra emphasis on the word “plagiarism.”