Against all odds, Ste Cameron took first ce—again.
Wasn''t this just another round of free publicity for Ste?
Meanwhile, Jasper Wilkinson''s livestream was exploding with a frenzy ofments and digital confetti. Animated gifts and emojis poured in from every direction.
Jasper had spent hours strategizing how to make Ste look foolish on camera. He''d even swapped to the best phone money could buy, terrified that the feed might freeze or crash just as the audience broke intoughter at Ste''s expense.
But while dreams are sweet, reality can be ruthless.
Not only did Ste avoid embarrassment, she emerged from Jasper''s trap with an evenrger, fiercely loyal fan base. The tables had turned.
On top of that, social media was aze with people using Franco-the so- called impartial judge—of being a sellout, deliberately giving Ste a hard time for some under-the-table benefit.
Flustered and defeated, Jasper scrambled to shut down the livestream.
At that moment, Rachel Pearce stared at the screen, so furious she nearly choked.
Useless. Absolutely useless. What kind of teammate sabotages their own side?
Why had she ever let herself be talked into this by Jasper? How many of his schemes had actually worked? Every single time, Ste turned the tables and used it as a showcase for her own brilliance.
That realization made Rachel''s heart skip a beat.
She suddenly turned to look beside her.
Haynes O''Brien and his son Keen-both tall and small-were gazing intently in Ste''s direction, their attention utterly fixed.
Panic crept into Rachel''s chest.
The more she watched, the clearer it became: taking Ste down wasn''t going to
be simple. Was it time...to reach out to that person?
Just then, Rachel''s phone buzzed in her pocket.
A chill ran down her spine as she nced at the screen. The sender was an unknown number.
The message was short and to the point:
"If you can''t handle this, thene back. My door is always open for you."
Rachel''s hand trembled; her phone slipped and ttered to the floor.
Haynes noticed her distress. "Rachel, are you alright?"
"I''m-fine," she managed a strained smile. "Maybe I''ve just been sitting here too long. I''m feeling a bit lightheaded."
Rachel''s so-called "terminal illness" was, on paper, still in recovery. She couldn''t make a miraculous recovery too quickly; there had to be a process. While she no longer passed out every three days or required emergency care every five, she still used her "condition" to summon Haynes whenever she needed.
Soon, the remaining performances wrapped up.
Ste and Marvin Connolly''s duet earned a perfect score and first ce. Rachel and Keennded second with an average of ny-eight points.
Afterwards, Ste and her friends were about to head to a restaurant for a celebratory meal when someone called her name.
"Ms. Cameron." It was Noah, one of the judges. "Could I have a word with you in private?"
Ste nodded, excused herself from Abby Murphy and the others, and followed Noah to a quiet corner.
Noah''s eyes, a striking shade of blue, met Ste''s with a calm, focused intensity that felt more reassuring than intimidating.
He smiled. "I''ve heard your violin ying is extraordinary, Ms. Cameron."
He produced an elegant invitation from his pocket and offered it to her.
"Three days from now, Mr. Walden will be hosting a private music gathering. I wonder if you''d be interested in attending?"
Mr. Walden-a legend among musicians, admired by all.
The moment Ste saw the invitation in Noah''s hand, her eyes lit up.
Five years ago, she''d missed her chance with Mr. Walden. Now, she hadn''t even hoped for an opportunity to meet him.
She longed to attend, but Ste had never been one to ept something for nothing.
She looked up at Noah. "Mr. Noah, if there''s anything you''d like me to do in return, please don''t hesitate to ask."
Noah was taken aback, but the admiration in his gaze deepened.
He''d always had a fondness for women from the East. Watching Ste on stage earlier, he''d found her captivating-graceful, poised, exactly his type.