Before long, Isabella Austin swept into the room, her arms cradling a bouquet of blue roses.

Unlike the preliminary and semi-final rounds, this time, none of the other contestants rushed over to shower her with congratulations or flattery. In fact, they treated Isabella as though she were invisible—expressionless, pretending not to notice her at all.

Isabella didn't seem to mind. Her smile remained dazzling, brimming with confidence and pride. The sharp clicks of her heels echoed across the waiting room, louder than ever in the hush, but she made no effort to tone it down.

Emily Blair watched as Isabella strode right up to her, the rhythmic thud of each step impossible to ignore.

Emily said nothing, simply meeting Isabella's gaze. Isabella's lips curved into a gracious, self-assured smile. "Emily Blair, I saw you out there. Thank you for applauding for me."

Emily's reply was calm. "You're welcome."

Isabella let out a soft, amused laugh, then arched a brow. “But I'm afraid I won't have time to clap for you later. Andrew and I have plans-we'll be stepping out for a bit."

A faint blush crept onto her face. "You know how it is."

Her gaze swept the room, her smile lingering with hidden meaning. "I'm pregnant, after all. It's stuffy and crowded in here, and Andrew's worried it's not good for me or the baby. He booked the room next door so I can get some rest. I won't be around for a while."

Lowering her head, Isabella inhaled the scent of her roses, her eyes shining with satisfaction and pride. "Andrew gave these to me-ninety-nine blue roses. Aren't they beautiful?"

She plucked one from the bouquet and held it out to Emily, her laughter light and lilting. "Here, take one. Maybe it'll bring you a little luck."

Emily stared quietly as Isabella continued her performance, making no move to accept the flower.

She glanced over the bouquet and noticed that Isabella had chosen one of the smallest blooms.

Emily's lips twitched in a half-smile. "No, thank you. You should keep it, Ms. Austin. If I really did steal your luck, you'd only be upset."

Isabella's eyes flickered, then she gave a short, scornful laugh and tossed the blue rose onto Emily's lap.

"Just take it. It's not like Andrew's the only one who gives me flowers. My fans do, too. I have plenty of bouquets—more than you, obviously. You look a little pathetic sitting there empty-handed. Consider this a pity gift."

Emily said nothing, simply watching Isabella.

As Isabella turned to leave, Emily flicked her hand and sent the blue rose tumbling to the floor.

"I think I'll pass, Ms. Austin," Emily called out, her voice deliberately loud and feigning surprise. “Oh dear, I dropped it by accident. Why don't you pick it up yourself?"

Isabella's expression darkened as she shot Emily an unpleasant look. Then she smiled, her eyes glinting with malice.

"If it's fallen, I don't want it anymore. Once it's been touched by something filthy, I'd rather leave it behind."

She raised her heel and, with deliberate disdain, crushed the blue rose beneath her shoe before striding out, her posture radiating arrogance.

Emily watched her leave, her thoughts quietly swirling.

Truth be told, she hoped Isabella would return to the hall for her performance—she was planning a surprise Isabella wouldn't soon forget.

At the door, Isabella's smile brightened as someone appeared outside-polished dress shoes visible beneath the frame. Emily followed the legs upward until she saw Andrew Lane himself.

Andrew slipped his arm around Isabella's shoulders and guided her out.

As they turned, Andrew glanced back at Emily. His look was cool and impassive, but even so, she could feel the weight of his presence.

Emily simply looked away, unbothered.

There were half as many contestants in the finals as there'd been in the previous round. Emily waited for nearly three hours before her turn finally came.

She could sense the tension as she stepped onto the stage-the audience had gone completely silent, the atmosphere so heavy you could hear a pin drop.

She even caught a few disgruntled whispers.

"Why is it her again?"

"Ugh, Emily Blair-can't believe it..."

It was obvious most of the audience were Isabella's fans. Emily's public squabbles with Isabella had stirred up plenty of drama online, so it was no surprise her supporters were rooting against her.

Unfazed, Emily bowed to the judges and took her seat at the piano.

She glanced backstage; one of the crew members flashed her an encouraging OK sign.

Behind her, a huge screen was set up for the finals-contestants could choose to play a video related to their performance, or leave it blank. Most avoided using it, worried that a flashy video might distract the judges and steal focus from their playing, hurting their scores.

But Emily didn't care about distractions or points. She didn't even care about the final rankings. All she wanted was to make sure Vivian Martin's name would be heard again.

Her video was queued to play after her performance.

She took a long, steadying breath and lifted her hands. The first note rang out- clear and bright.

Looking up, she spotted Isabella and Andrew seated right in the center of the audience.

Emily's gaze lingered for a moment, then she smiled.

Good. They were here. That was all that mattered.

This time, Emily let go of every restraint. She poured her soul into the keys, unleashing every ounce of her ability. As the music built in intensity, she felt her own blood surge the thrill traveling up her spine, setting her skin aflame. Her fingers trembled with excitement, but she didn't care. Tonight, she played for herself.