My Great Escape Led Me to You novel Chapter 92

The security guard sneered. “She’s still putting on airs, even in a place like this.”

“At least you know how to behave,” he added, looking Emily up and down with a smirk. “Trying so hard to, you know… get ahead.”

For a moment, Emily Blair’s face froze, her lips flattening as she shot the guard a look as cold as ice.

The guard didn’t notice. He just threw his head back and laughed. “Let me check with the manager. Maybe he can take you inside.”

The club manager, having heard there was a high school girl at the door, was already grinning from ear to ear. In less than five minutes, he came out and personally ushered Emily inside.

What Emily didn’t see was a man in a black suit, sitting in a shadowy corner of the club, watching her exchange with the guard, then watching the manager lead her away with barely concealed delight. The man’s expression slid from surprise to growing panic.

No way… Is that Ms. Blair?!

He was so startled he nearly dropped his glass.

He was dead meat. Mr. Lane was going to lose it this time.

Clumsily setting his drink down, the man darted toward the back rooms, heart pounding.

Move your damn legs!

Faster! If he didn’t hurry, he was finished.

Meanwhile, the manager led Emily to a private lounge. She followed, feigning shyness, eyes lowered, clutching nervously at the hem of her sweater as she stopped in front of the sofa.

The manager put on his sleaziest grin. “Gentlemen, here’s a fresh one—still in high school, I swear she’s clean. Take a look, see if you like her.”

He yanked Emily forward for everyone to see.

Every man’s gaze landed on her, hungry and suggestive. When they noticed her school uniform, their eyes grew even more predatory.

The room was crowded—not just with men, but women as well. The women wore next to nothing, draped over the men’s laps or kneeling at their feet, doing everything they could to please.

Emily scanned the room, her eyes finally landing on a girl in the corner. A thin man was gripping her tightly, his hand creeping under her blouse to her waist. The girl was wearing a school uniform too.

The lighting was dim, and the girl’s face was buried against the man’s chest, but Emily was certain.

Elizabeth Wilson.

Then she heard it—a muffled sob.

Elizabeth’s voice.

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