Hidden from Delilah Robinson's line of sight, a chill flickered in Emily Blair's eyes, her gaze turning frosty and remote.

When Emily didn't respond for quite some time, Delilah smugly assumed she'd hit a nerve. Her expression grew even more self-satisfied.

"I was right, wasn't I?" she pressed.

Delilah strutted around the grand piano, arms crossed, chin lifted with haughty arrogance. "Emily Blair, take my advice-don't get ahead of yourself. You'd be better off withdrawing from the competition now—"

Emily stretched out her leg. Delilah, not watching where she was going, promptly tripped over Emily's shin.

"Ah!" Delilah screeched.

Emily, backpack slung over her shoulder, immediately stood up and stepped aside. She watched as Delilah's hands slammed onto the piano keys, unleashing a dissonant cacophony that rang out, blending with Delilah's shrill scream.

Emily stood outside the fray, watching coolly as Delilah tumbled to the floor, clutching her leg and howling in pain.

Raising an eyebrow, Emily said with dry indifference, "You'd do better to watch where you're going, instead of running your mouth. That's what really matters- don't want to see you take another fall."

Still sprawled on the ground, Delilah pounded her fist and glared at Emily, teeth clenched. "Emily Blair, you just wait!"

Emily's lips curled into a faint smile. "Oh, I'll wait."

With that, she turned and walked away.

Before the Starlight Piano Competition began, the school held another round of monthly exams.

Unsurprisingly, Emily once again dominated the rankings, effortlessly taking first place.

Afterwards, she requested a five-day leave of absence, which conveniently coincided with the five days of the Starlight Piano Competition.

The competition consisted of three rounds: preliminaries, semifinals, and finals.

Half of the contestants would be eliminated in the preliminaries, then half again in the semifinals, leaving the final few to compete for the top three spots.

The event was hosted in the heart of downtown, inside a lavish six-star hotel.

This year's organizers spared no expense-every contestant was given a luxury suite, all free of charge.

Everyone was a little stunned; previous years had never been so generous.

Not only were they put up in a six-star hotel, but tables of exquisite pastries and fresh fruit were laid out, and the staff catered to every whim.

Emily wasn't surprised in the least when she saw Andrew Lane arrive at the hotel with Isabella Austin. If anything, it made perfect sense—Andrew was always attentive to Isabella, so of course he'd make time to support her at such an important event.

She watched the two enter a room together, then quietly turned away and headed to her own.

Sitting at the edge of her bed, Emily's gaze drifted to the items neatly arranged on the nightstand.

She picked up a box of tissues and glanced at the logo on the packaging.

A soft chuckle escaped her lips.

So that's why.

No wonder this year's organizers were so extravagant—it was all because of Andrew Lane and Isabella Austin.

The logo on the tissue box was unmistakable: The Lane Group.

Placed side by side with the Starlight Piano Competition's crest, the meaning was clear. The Lane Group had sponsored the event.

Why would Andrew Lane sponsor the competition? The answer was obvious: Isabella Austin was competing this year.

Everyone knew about The Lane Group's bottomless pockets, and their generosity was on full display. This year's contestants were living in the lap of luxury-even the six-star hotel was within reach.

Emily didn't dwell on it. Tossing the tissues aside, she lay back on the bed.

The competition would begin on the second day after everyone checked in.

The rules for the preliminaries were simple: each contestant could choose any piano

piece to perform either their own composition or someone else's.

But the most crucial rule was this: if you claimed a work as your own, it had to be original—no plagiarism allowed. If caught, you'd be publicly named and immediately disqualified.

As Emily stepped into the waiting room, she felt a sharp, scrutinizing gaze cut across the crowd.

She looked up and met Andrew Lane's eyes. He was sitting with Isabella Austin, his features chiseled and striking, eyebrows shadowed and intense, his dark eyes fathomless beneath the pale glow of the waiting room lights. Even now, after two lifetimes, Emily still found it impossible to read what lay behind Andrew's gaze.

He looked at her just once, then turned away.

Isabella, on the other hand, offered a polite, almost teasing smile and a nod. Emily ignored her, found her seat—conveniently as far from Isabella's as possible, tucked away in a quiet corner.

She suspected Andrew had arranged it that way. But she didn't mind. Privacy was better than distractions.

Settling in, she listened to the murmurs from the contestants nearby.

"That's Isabella Austin. We're doomed-how could we possibly beat her?"

"What are you worried about? Look over there."

"Who?"

“Emily Blair, obviously. It's her first piano competition—she'll make the rest of us look good, if nothing else."

"Is the guy next to Isabella her boyfriend? He's gorgeous."

"That's Andrew Lane. He's the sponsor this year-we have him to thank for the six-

star hotel."

Emily's expression remained unchanged as she listened to the chatter.

"Are you Emily Blair?"

A playful, melodic voice sounded next to her ear.

Emily opened her eyes to see a man standing before her-so strikingly handsome

he could've been mistaken for a model, dressed in a pale blue suit, a gentle, ambiguous smile on his lips.

Anyone else might have found him approachable, but Emily recognized the smile didn't reach his eyes. Beneath the surface warmth, his gaze was as cold as ice.