Everything went black at the edge of her vision, and in the next heartbeat, Emily Blair felt herself swept up in Andrew Lane's arms.

Bang!

A deafening crash exploded right by her ear. All that remained in Emily's mind was an endless, pounding roar.

She went rigid, her thoughts grinding to a halt, and for a terrifying moment, she couldn't breathe.

Car accident. This was a car accident.

Her body began to shake uncontrollably. Eyes wide, mouth open, but still she couldn't draw in air; every muscle locked tight with fear.

Her Daisy had died in a car accident.

Even now, Emily could still hear Daisy's piercing cries echoing in her ears, could still see that dreadful wash of crimson-her daughter's blood, spreading everywhere.

Emily tried to speak, but her voice barely scraped out, hoarse and broken. “Daisy... my Daisy..."

Pain surged through her-so real, so all-consuming it was as if her own body bled and broke. Her breath came in shallow, shuddering gasps, like invisible hands were clamped around her throat.

Then, without warning, her tears spilled over.

"Emily Blair. Emily Blair."

She looked around frantically, searching for anything, for someone.

Where was Daisy? Where was her Daisy?

"Emily Blair!"

Andrew Lane's voice was urgent now. He grabbed her by the shoulders, his big

hands forcing her upright from where she'd slumped almost to the seat.

Suddenly, Emily found herself staring straight into Andrew Lane's furrowed brow and fierce, razor-sharp gaze.

She trembled, transfixed by his face.

His hands slid from her shoulders down to her arm, his voice low and commanding. "Where are you hurt?”

Gradually, Emily's mind started to clear.

She didn't answer. Instead, she turned her head, painfully stiff.

Outside, a middle-aged woman astride an e-bike had crashed into the car door on Emily's side.

On the back of the bike sat a girl in a school uniform her daughter, probably just picked up from school.

The woman's face was pale and frantic, sweat beading at her hairline as she babbled apologies, clearly terrified.

Emily herself was unscathed, physically at least, but she was still trapped in the shadow of that old tragedy, locked up inside her own frozen body.

Andrew Lane's grip tightened. “Emily Blair. Speak.”

She shook her head faintly, her voice rough and raw. "I'm not hurt."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Then what are you thinking about?"

Slowly, Emily lifted her gaze to meet his.

This was the man who, in the aftermath of that long-ago accident, had carried Isabella Austin's son-who'd suffered nothing worse than a scraped knee-onto the ambulance right away.

If only Daisy had gotten on that ambulance first. Maybe she would have lived.

Maybe she wouldn't have died from lack of treatment.

And it was this man, after Daisy's death, who'd made her life a living hell.

Even beasts are said to spare their own young. Andrew Lane, though—he truly was

a ruthless man. A perfect match for Isabella Austin.

In that moment, hatred burned so fiercely in Emily's eyes she could barely hold it back.

But not yet.

She wasn't ready to face Andrew Lane head-on. Not yet.

Before he noticed, she closed her eyes, pulled her arm free from his grasp, and

turned away, presenting her back to him.

Andrew Lane kept watching her, his frown not easing in the slightest.

Emily's eyes...

"Mr. Lane, how would you like to handle this?"

His assistant's voice floated in from outside the car. Andrew Lane glanced at Emily a few more times, buttoned his suit jacket, and stepped out.

The e-bike hadn't done much damage; the Rolls-Royce's door was just dented. But this was no ordinary car-it was a top-tier Rolls-Royce, worth more than most people would earn in a lifetime. Even a small dent was far beyond what someone on a modest salary could afford.

The woman was sweating bullets, apologizing over and over to Andrew Lane.

A car accident is never a small thing. In no time, a crowd had gathered, some onlookers casting sympathetic glances at the distraught woman.