Chapter 142:
Spencer nodded and replied, “It was her suggestion. She’s doing it for me, really. Marcus is known across the world; I’m still local. She thought this concert would be a good chance to give my work some exposure.”
His companion spoke with a nod in his tone. “Paola has both charm and skill. She’s quite the package.”
Rylie picked up every word. Her hearing had always been sharp, and nothing about the exchange escaped her.
She turned around and looked straight at Spencer. “You’re right, sir. My cousin works on her music in the study at home. I’ve seen the pages piling up with edits. She’s really put the effort in.”
Spencer stared at her for a beat, trying to place her, then recognition clicked. “Ah. Miss Owen.”
He’d been there during the earlier incident. He hadn’t warmed up to her since, so his response came out tight.
Rylie kept her expression pleasant. “She stays up late some nights. I’ve seen her go over the same piece again and again, just to meet your expectations, Mr. Aguilar.”
Spencer’s expression softened slightly, and he gave a slow nod. “Yes, the final version was pieced together in the library. That’s where I found it.”
He paused, then added, “It turned out nothing like the original draft. The shift in style was dramatic. It really does show she might carry Marcus’ legacy forward.”
Rylie tilted her head and smiled faintly. “Is that right? So you must’ve heard the piano but didn’t actually see who was playing it.”
Spencer tilted his head, clearly puzzled. “Why would you say something like that?”
Rylie offered a light reply. “Oh, it’s nothing serious. I just think you’ve got a sharp ear, Mr. Aguilar. Maybe next time, you could hear me play.”
She didn’t say the rest out loud. In truth, she believed he lacked the discernment to read between the lines. For someone like him, the deeper truths stayed hidden.
Spencer took her words as a gentle nudge and assumed she was hinting at composing for his film. Wanting to avoid any commitment, he politely refused. “I’ve been swamped lately, but maybe in the future.”
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Rylie gave a nod and kept her smile small. “Alright.”
Anyone who understood music could tell from Paola’s discarded drafts that her skills had limits. Even so, Spencer remained convinced that the sudden shift in her compositions came from her brilliance.
Rylie quietly wondered how he would react once the truth came out.
Brad said nothing the whole time. He kept his gaze on Rylie, noticing the way her lips curved just slightly and how her eyes sparkled with something sly. There was a playfulness in her, the kind that hid its claws.
He had finally figured her out. Rylie always wore a soft expression when she was laying a trap. She made people feel safe, just long enough to strike when it counted.
Meanwhile, Marcus stepped into the light. His coat was a deep purple, his short hair neatly styled. He looked every bit the refined artist—calm, poised, confident.
He began speaking, and the room stilled. His words, paired with his gentle air, pulled in every woman seated nearby.
His gaze swept toward the VIP section. “Lately, there’s been a lot to celebrate in our home. One joy stands out—a treasure I thought I’d lost. She’s here with us tonight. She gave me the spark to write this next piece. I hope it speaks to you.”
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