My Great Escape Led Me to You novel Chapter 194

That was the man who’d stolen Isabella Austin’s heart—made her so hopelessly devoted it was almost pitiable. And yet Andrew Lane hadn’t cherished her; instead, he’d kept getting tangled up with Emily Blair, leaving Isabella to swallow her grievances and heartbreak. Even now, despite her pregnancy, they weren’t even engaged. It was as if responsibility meant nothing to Andrew Lane.

But now, Andrew’s anger was unmistakable.

His dark eyes radiated a pressure that was almost physical, unwavering as he stared at the hand Alex White had wrapped around Isabella’s wrist. There was a sharpness in his gaze, the kind that could slice flesh from bone.

Alex, for his part, ignored Andrew’s fury—if anything, he tightened his grip on Isabella’s wrist.

He’d never forgotten the day he’d confessed his feelings to Isabella, only to have Andrew Lane sweep in and pull her away.

He spoke now with a cool, layered meaning. “Mr. Lane, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Andrew stared back, his eyes unreadable, before striding forward.

Suddenly Isabella pulled her hand free from Alex’s grasp and turned toward Andrew, giving him a gentle, radiant smile—the kind Alex had never seen on her face before.

“Andrew, Ian’s just come back from overseas. You two haven’t seen each other since graduation, right?”

Alex glanced at his empty palm, a cold heaviness settling in his chest.

Within moments, Andrew stood before them.

His voice was low, almost gravelly. “Mr. White, when did you get back?”

Alex offered a breezy smile, as if nothing at all was amiss. “Just arrived, actually. I got so caught up talking to Isabella that I nearly forgot you were here too, Mr. Lane.”

Andrew was about to reply when, abruptly, the soft notes of a piano filled the room.

Emily Blair walked onto the stage; the audience was already packed with contestants and judges who had finished their performances.

Her expression was calm as she swept her gaze across the crowd. In the very center of the second row, two seats sat conspicuously empty—Andrew Lane and Isabella Austin’s seats, she guessed.

She turned her attention back to the stage and bowed.

From the judges’ table, Arianna George smiled at her. “Emily Blair, whenever you’re ready.”

Emily didn’t want to stand out in this preliminary round; her only aim was to reach the finals with a solid, unremarkable performance—nothing too flashy, nothing too poor.

She’d chosen a safe, technically straightforward piece.

As she sat down at the piano and placed her fingers on the keys, nothing felt off.

But as soon as the music began, she heard it—a faint, discordant noise woven into the melody.

She caught it right away, but with the performance in motion, all she could do was hope it would fade, that maybe no one else would notice—especially not the judges.

Instead, the noise only grew louder, more persistent.

The murmurs from the audience began to swell, until even Emily couldn’t ignore them.

With each note, the flaw in the instrument seemed to drown out her music.

Finally, she stopped playing.

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