Soon, the first performance took the stage, and the entire hall fell silent.


    By the third act, the host returned to the spotlight. "Now, please wee the renowned pianist, Miss Vanessa, performing her signature piece, ''Strolling in the Rain.""


    Amidst a wave of apuse, Vanessa glided onto the stage with effortless grace. She settled at the grand piano in the center, her eyes scanning the audience— pausing ever so briefly inn''s direction.


    She drew in a measured breath. Her slender fingers hovered, then danced across the keys, releasing a cascade of exquisite notes.


    Vanessa had never been just a pretty face. Her artistry at the piano was formidable-after all, from the moment she metn, she''d been determined to be a woman worthy of him.


    She pushed herself, practicingte into countless nights, chasing perfection with relentless ambition. Ian was like an unattainable god on a mountaintop-distant, dazzling, impossible not to yearn for.


    Under the stage lights, Vanessa''s champagne and blush gown shimmered with diamonds, her image magnified on the enormous screen-a vision of poise and refined artistic allure.


    Yet at that moment, a pair of eyes in the audience suddenly narrowed.


    Eleanor hadn''t nned to watch Vanessa''s performance; she was staring down at herp, lost in thought. When she unexpectedly nced up, she metn''s unwavering stare.


    Her gaze turned cold. Ian''s own eyes darkened, and he quickly looked away.


    Onstage, Vanessa''s piece reached its midpoint, yet the attention of every woman in the room had shifted from the music to the ne at her throat. Among the well-heeled crowd, jewelry was anguage of its own, and curiosity flickered everywhere.


    Soon, whispers rippled through the cluster of socialites and wealthy matrons.


    Directly behind Eleanor, two debutantes leaned in, their voices hushed but unmistakably close.


    "Isn''t that the Cartier Winter Limited Edition?" one murmured. "I heard they only made ten of those in the world-"


    "I looked it up," herpanion replied. "Each piece in that collection is specially engraved with the owner''s name. You have to order it at least six months in advance."


    "I can''t believe Miss Shannon actually has one. Whoever''s backing her must have serious influence!"


    "Isn''t her boyfriendn Goodwin, the CEO of Goodwin & Co.? For someone like him, buying all ten would be nothing."


    The first young woman gazed at Vanessa with open envy. To be loved by a man liken Goodwin-what could be more fortunate?


    Just then, Vanessa''s final notes faded into the air. The room erupted in apuse. She pressed a hand to her heart, bowed gracefully, and left the stage with poise.


    Returning to her seat, Vanessa was quietly congratted by the wealthy women around her. She offered a polite smile and a nod in return. Then, one curious matron leaned over. "Miss Shannon, you really are fortunate! That''s a uniquely customized ne, isn''t it?"


    Vanessa''s hand drifted to the ne. "Thank you," she replied.


    "This collection is truly special. I heard each one is engraved with the owner''s


    name—it makes it feel so personal," the woman added.


    Under the dimming lights, Vanessa''s face went pale. Instinctively, she sped the ne, forcing a stiff smile. "Is that so?"


    "You didn''t know?" The woman sounded genuinely surprised.


    Vanessa managed another smile. "Of course I knew. I just thought mine was the only one with a special engraving."


    "Oh, no, all ten are engraved with names."


    Vanessa opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came. She could only manage a strained, hollowugh.