Chapter 213

Until she was taken in by the Lane family and met Andrew Lane, her life had been a blur of gray days and restless nights.
That afternoon after school, a male teacher trailed behind her. His rough hand landed on her shoulder, fingers kneading with a touch that made her uneasy, his tone both ambiguous and heavy. She couldn’t decipher what he meant she only knew she needed to walk faster, and faster still.
Then he yanked her into the depths of a narrow alley.
When he tore off her coat, it happened so quickly she didn’t even have time to react.
It wasn’t until Andrew Lane appeared, landing a punch that brought the man to the ground, that she snapped back to herself, startled.
Back then, Andrew Lane wasn’t the composed, sharp-eyed man he would become. His features hadn’t settled into their cool confidence yet; his emotions still flickered, barely contained, and his dark eyes burned with fury, as if he’d tear his opponent apart with a glance.
Dressed in a black suit, Andrew grabbed the teacher by the collar and pinned him down, heedless of the fine fabric of his trousers soaking up the grime from the filthy pavement.
There was nothing but violence in his expression as he pummeled the man’s face again and again, every punch thrown with all his strength. The very first blow knocked the teacher out cold.
He kept going-fist after fist, drawing blood with each strike. The man’s face was battered and swollen, lips split and trickling red, hardly a patch of skin left untouched.
Even so, Andrew Lane did not stop.
Emily Blair saw blood pooling beneath the teacher’s head. She screamed, rushing forward to grab Andrew’s arm, her voice hoarse and desperate. “Andrew, stop! Please, stop!”
“Andrew, that’s enough!”
No matter how she pleaded, Andrew was unmoved, his fists slamming down like a machine.
Tears spilled from Emily’s eyes, her gaze shimmering with panic, the corners of her eyes and the tip of her nose flushed red and helpless.
“Andrew, I’m begging you-stop, please.”
Drip-
A single tear fell from her lashes, landing on the back of Andrew’s hand.
At last, he stopped.
The teacher lay motionless, barely alive.
Emily sobbed, her chest aching with the effort to breathe. “Is he… is he dead? Did you kill him?”
Andrew turned to her, his dark eyes bottomless, voice rough as gravel. “Emily.”
Despite the hoarseness, she thought his voice was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard. She clung to his arm.
Andrew lifted his hand, reaching for her cheek, but paused at the last second. She sniffled, her voice thick with tears. “Andrew
Suddenly, Andrew pulled his arm free, leaving her feeling cold and empty.
First, he wiped the blood from his hands on the teacher’s shirt. Then he stood, walked over, and picked up the coat that had been ripped from her shoulders, draping it gently around her.
“Put this on.”
She bit her lip, eyes downcast, and slipped her arms through the sleeves. Bracing herself against the ground, she tried to stand. The next instant, a wave of dizziness washed over her-and then the world went dark.
It was Andrew who caught her, wrapping his arms tightly around her back, holding her safe in the circle of his embrace.
His chin pressed against her shoulder, his breath ragged in her ear. All around her, she could smell him—his warmth, his presence, anchoring her to the world once again.