My Great Escape Led Me to You novel Chapter 73

Emily Blair ran in the opposite direction from Evan Foster, heading deeper into the club’s exclusive SVIP section. The place was almost deserted, eerily quiet, with only a handful of scantily dressed servers slipping between the private rooms.

Disheveled and clearly out of place, Emily naturally drew attention.

Despite her panic, she kept her wits about her. Whenever someone approached, she ducked into the shadows, hugging the wall and staying out of sight.

Andrew Lane was one of the club’s original founders, though these days he left most of the operations to his partners, too busy with other ventures. Still, nearly everyone here answered to him.

If those servers spotted her, she doubted they’d hesitate to drag her straight back.

Emily waited until the servers passed, then slipped quietly from her hiding spot. Instead of following the main hallway that guests used, she took a narrow stairwell off to the side.

She had just wrapped her hand around the doorknob at the top when a woman’s voice, hesitant but clear, called out behind her.

“Who are you?”

Emily clutched the thin shawl tighter around her shoulders, took a steadying breath, and twisted the handle, determined to bolt.

She barely got a step before someone yanked the shawl from her shoulders.

“Are you Emily Blair?” The woman sounded more certain now, her voice rising. “Come back here! Mr. Lane hasn’t given you permission to leave.”

Emily’s heart thudded violently. She didn’t even look back—just tried to run.

Suddenly, a flurry of hurried footsteps pounded down the corridor, closing in. A middle-aged woman’s sharp voice rang out, commanding and cold.

“Don’t let her get away! Mr. Lane hasn’t dismissed her yet.”

Someone grabbed her, shoved her to her knees. Emily’s mind went blank.

Click, click, click…

She slowly lifted her head. Shiny black dress shoes and a pair of stilettos stopped right in front of her.

Looking up, she met Andrew Lane’s obsidian eyes—cold, unreadable. Next to him, Isabella Austin gazed down at her, her expression gentle, lips curled in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Isabella feigned concern, brow furrowing. “Emily, are you alright? Mr. Foster didn’t hurt you, did he?”

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