My Great Escape Led Me to You novel Chapter 68

Moonlight Club.

Even before the car rolled to a stop, Emily Blair could feel the thumping bass and the surge of cheers pulsing through the night air, leaking from behind the club’s doors.

She was bundled in a thin trench coat, clutching it tightly around her body. Only her bare, slender legs peeked out, knees drawn up protectively.

The driver—a personal assistant—pulled up to the curb and peered at her in the rearview mirror.

“Ms. Blair, we’ve arrived. Please step out. Mr. Lane and his friends are waiting for you in the VIP Suite One.”

Emily glanced at the Moonlight Club’s neon-lit entrance, the rainbow of colors blurring before her eyes. Dread settled in her gut as she reached for the handle—only for the assistant’s voice to cut through the music again.

There was a clear edge to his tone, almost mocking. “Ms. Blair, you’ll need to take off your coat before you go in.”

Andrew Lane had a whole fleet of assistants, each devoted to different aspects of his business. This one, though—he was special, and not because of his skill. His attitude toward Emily was openly hostile, the sort Andrew Lane surely knew about, which meant he’d chosen the man on purpose.

Emily remembered: this assistant was Isabella Austin’s old college friend. When he couldn’t find work after graduation, Isabella had pulled strings with Andrew Lane to get him a job. He knew all about the tangled mess between Andrew, Isabella, and herself. Naturally, he sided with Isabella, and Emily had felt his disdain from day one.

She clenched her trembling fingers and slipped off her coat.

Inside, a hostess in a sparkling cocktail dress led her to the suite. Emily kept one arm tightly pressed over her exposed chest, trying to cover the pale skin revealed by the skimpy dress.

When the people inside responded, the hostess flashed a bright red smile and pushed open the door. “Go on in.”

Emily stepped into a haze of perfume and expensive whiskey. The first thing she saw was Andrew Lane, sprawled in the center of the velvet couch. He wore a dark suit, the jacket undone, two shirt buttons left open to reveal a sculpted throat and collarbone, all sharply illuminated by the moody lighting.

He sat with his head bowed, swirling a glass of wine, looking for all the world as if he had nowhere better to be.

The private room was crowded with familiar faces—business partners and old friends of Andrew’s, men who lived for the night. Each had a woman in his lap: some coquettish, some glamorous, some icy and aloof, the air thick with flirtation.

Emily tugged at the hem of her dress—a dress so short that the slightest bend would be a disaster—and came to stand before Andrew.

“Mr. Lane.”

He didn’t look up. Didn’t even acknowledge her.

But Evan Foster, seated beside Andrew, grinned wide the moment he saw her. “Well, well. Come here, sweetheart. Let me get a good look at you.”

Emily shot him a glance, but stubbornly kept her eyes fixed on Andrew. When she spoke, her voice was hushed, desperate. “Andrew, what will it take for you to leave Ms. Carter alone?”

Andrew’s hand twitched on his glass. He finally raised his gaze, giving her a slow, cold once-over, lips curling into that familiar, dismissive smirk.

“Nice outfit. My assistant told you the rules, didn’t he?”

Emily’s fists tightened at her sides. Of course he had. This was all a trade—she knew it, and so did everyone else.

Evan Foster was Andrew’s chosen exchange partner tonight. If she agreed, she’d have to go with Evan. Everyone knew Evan Foster’s reputation as a notorious playboy; his companions changed nightly, sometimes more than one at a time.

She didn’t want this.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify