Chapter 339
Even though Mr. Lane never said a word while the housekeeper gave her daily reports, the woman always carried on regardless, often talking for ten minutes or more.
Sometimes she found herself wondering, why did Mr. Lane insist on hearing about every little detail of Emily Blair’s life? It was as if nothing was too trivial-every scrap of information about Emily seemed to matter to him.
On the very first day, the housekeeper had listed everything she knew, from Emily’s mood that morning to what she’d eaten for lunch. Mr. Lane showed no reaction at all.
No matter what she said, he remained completely impassive.
At the time, she assumed she’d just rambled on with too much pointless chatter and that was why Mr. Lane didn’t respond.
So the next day, she deliberately trimmed her report, focusing only on the essentials: Emily’s mood, the doctor’s checkup on her ankle, her recovery progress. She brushed past everything else.
To her surprise, when she finished, Andrew Lane immediately noticed something was missing. “I told you,” he said coolly, “I want to know everything. No detail is too small.”
His voice was flat, but even over the phone, the housekeeper felt an invisible pressure settle heavily on her chest.
Her heart skipped a beat. She hastily added a slew of minute details, and only after she finished did Andrew Lane finally say, “Good,” before hanging up just as abruptly.
After that, the housekeeper started reporting everything about Emily Blair with painstaking thoroughness—she practically counted the number of grains of rice Emily ate at each meal.
It was only after this incident that she gradually realized Andrew Lane must care about Emily Blair deeply, even if he didn’t know how to show it. That was why she tried so hard to persuade Emily to tell him about the strange phone calls.
With that thought in mind, she took a step closer and insisted,
“Ms. Blair, please trust Mr. Lane. From what I know, he genuinely cares about you— he just isn’t the type to say it out loud. If you tell him about this, I’m sure he’ll want to help. It seems clear to me someone leaked your private number on purpose, which is why you’ve been getting those scam calls. If you let Mr. Lane handle it, I’m certain it’ll be sorted out quickly. Don’t you think so?”
The housekeeper actually knew her employer fairly well. Andrew Lane was wealthy beyond measure, decisive and formidable, with a reputation that carried weight not just in the city but across the country. Truly, he was a man who got things done.
She hadn’t seen it firsthand, but she believed with all her heart that if Mr. Lane got involved, the problem would be over in no time.
Emily Blair listened to her speech and could only smile.
The housekeeper didn’t really know Andrew Lane, nor did she understand Emily herself—or the cold, distant relationship between the two of them.
That was why she could say such things.
Emily never doubted Andrew Lane’s ability to fix problems. But she was certain that the leak of her private number had everything to do with Andrew Lane and Isabella Austin.
She’d learned as much from bitter experience.
Back then, someone had exposed all her private information online: her ID number, address, school, phone number—even her friends’ and family’s details. She was all too familiar with the feeling.
In her previous life, she’d been hounded and harassed online, driven into despair, severe depression, and more than once resorted to self-harm.
She’d tried to get help the only person she could think to turn to was Andrew Lane, the one most capable of fixing things. But all she ever got from him was a firmly closed door.