“He's nuts. Seriously. There's no reason you should have to handle this in person— a good assistant could take care of it. God knows what Andrew Lane's up to. Emily, whatever you do, don't let him fool you."

Tristan Davis only realized what Emily had said after he'd finished his rant.

"What did you just say?"

Emily replied, completely unfazed, "I didn't say anything. Wasn't it all you talking just now?"

Tristan narrowed his eyes, studying her. "No, you definitely said something. You called Andrew Lane crazy."

Emily admitted without hesitation, “Yeah, I said it. So what?”

He kept his gaze locked on hers, his eyes sharp and searching, but didn't say a word.

She sighed. "Stop looking at me like that. The Black & White Rabbit game license is crucial for our new project. I have to secure it—if I&A insists on a face-to-face meeting, I don't have a choice. Unless you can magically snatch the game license for me, I'm stuck doing this myself."

Tristan echoed blankly, as if the words just hit him, "You said he's crazy."

Emily blinked. "What?"

Tristan's tone grew more insistent. "You said he's crazy."

Emily stared at him, then deadpanned, “If you keep repeating yourself, I'm starting to think you're the one who's crazy, not him."

Ignoring her protest, Tristan took a step closer and grabbed her wrist, his grip firm and unyielding. "I'm coming with you."

Emily's eyes flickered.

She could already see the disaster looming ahead-her meeting with Andrew Lane was bound to be a train wreck of epic proportions.

This mess between her and Andrew was hers alone, and the last thing she wanted was to drag another person-especially Tristan-into it.

Carefully, she pulled her expression into something neutral. "No need. I can handle it on my own."

Tristan's frown deepened. "I insist. I'm going."

"There's really no point," Emily said, her tone resolute.

He pressed his lips into a tight line, refusing to budge, his eyes never leaving her.

Emily was never one to back down once she'd made up her mind. "I told you, I can deal with this. You should just stay at the office—”

"No," Tristan cut her off, "I'm not staying. I'm going with you. End of discussion."

Emily's patience snapped. She frowned, clicking her tongue in frustration.

"Tristan, what's gotten into you?"

He let out a cold, humorless laugh. "I'm worried about you, and that's what you have to say to me?"

She wanted to argue, but stopped short.

Something was off. Tristan was acting way too worked up at the mere mention of Andrew Lane.

Emily's gaze softened, her expression turning serious. "Tristan, what exactly are you worried about? Is there something you know that I don't?"

She'd never told Tristan a thing about her past, but someone like him—if he wanted to dig into her history, it would be all too easy.

Tristan just stared at her, stubborn and silent, before letting out a bitter laugh. "What do you think I know?"

He was dangerously close to spilling everything on his mind.

What did he know? He knew about her history with Andrew Lane. He knew all about what went down between her, Andrew, and Isabella Austin. He knew this meeting could easily turn into a chance for her and Andrew to rekindle something that should have stayed buried.

What didn't he know?

Sure, Andrew Lane was married now, with a son. But Tristan knew men-knew exactly why Andrew was insisting on seeing Emily alone.

Tristan Davis swore to himself: he would never, ever let Emily Blair and Andrew Lane have the slightest chance to pick up where they left off.