?Chapter 190:


    The staff of the organizers was swamped. How could so many im to be the singer? Had they even listened to themselves?


    Across town, everyone seemed to have theories about the real identity of the mysterious vocalist.


    Jarrod watched the video and felt as if he had been struck by lightning. He had been at that bar that day, and he knew clearly that the masked singer was none other than Maia.


    He dreaded the thought of Maia being invited to the show and overshadowing Rosanna. He was terrified that everyone would recognize the divine quality of Maia’s voice.


    He couldn’t bear the thought of that woman gaining such acim and feared that she might never reconcile with the Morgan family.


    “No, this cannot get out! I must make sure no one realizes that the singer is Maia!”


    Trembling with anxiety, Jarrod hastily dialed his friends who had been present that night, warning them to keep Maia’s identity a secret, or they would face his wrath.


    After cautioning those so-called friends, Jarrod found himself pacing restlessly. Unable to find peace, he wandered downstairs to the living room, where Richard’s and Sandra’s lively voices floated through the air.


    There they were, seatedfortably on the sofa alongside Rosanna.


    Sandra, practically glowing with excitement, clutched Rosanna’s hand tightly. “Sweetheart, you must give it your all this time. I have every faith in you. I’ve already sent your songs to some of my friends, and they sang your praises. They’ll help rally votes for you during thepetition, too.”


    Richard, too, seemed to be in high spirits. “When exactly is thepetition?”


    Lately, Richard had been weighed down by the cloud of online controversies, brooding for days on end. But if Rosanna could seize the championship title on The Voice of Zephyria, it might just turn the tide in favor of the Morgan family and wipe clean the stains left by Jarrod’s earlier missteps.


    Exclusive updates: galnoνe??s.co??


    “It’s next Saturday,” Rosanna replied in a soft voice, “and it’ll be broadcast live on television.”


    Richard narrowed his eyes, sinking into deep thought.


    Just then, Jarrod’s approach caught his eye, and Richard let out a cold scoff but held his tongue.


    After stirring up such a storm, Jarrod still hadn’t found any useful clues. He was just running about each day, busy with who-knew-what. Richard’s disappointment in his son ran deeper than words could capture.


    Sandra, catching the brewing tension, shot her husband a quick nce before motioning for Jarrod to sit beside her.


    She spoke with gentle earnestness, “Your sister is stepping into The Voice of Zephyria singingpetition. As her elder brother, it’s your duty to be her pir — cheer her on and escort her to the venue.”


    Jarrod darted a look at Richard, then nodded sheepishly. “I understand.”


    Out of the blue, Richard’s voice rang out, sharp as a whip. “You’d better walk the straight and narrow from now on. Don’t you dare drag your sister down with you again, or don’t expect any mercy from me.”


    “Alright, Richard. Jarrod knows he was wrong. He won’t repeat his mistakes,” Sandra quickly stepped in, smoothing the tension. She then turned to Jarrod with a gentle reminder, “Your father’s been buried inpany affairstely. You should try to understand him.”


    Jarrod lowered his head further, biting back his words.


    Suppressing his lingering anger, Richard turned away from Jarrod and addressed Rosanna instead.


    “Rosanna, are you confident you can win the championship this time?”


    .


    .


    .