The evening air buzzed with excitement, but inside the Grey estate, time had slowed to a breathtaking halt.

Cordelia—no, Lia—stood at the center of the living room, stunning in a satin floor-length gown that shimmered under the chandelier’s glow. Her hair was elegantly styled, her makeup subtle yet captivating, and the soft sparkle of her jewelry made her look ethereal.

“You look so beautiful, my dear Lia,” Georgia cooed as she fluttered around her, phone in hand, snapping pictures from every angle like a proud stage mom on opening night.

“Mom… stop, she needs to leave or she’ll be late,” Felix groaned, rolling his eyes, though even he couldn’t deny how radiant Lia looked.

Lucian descended the staircase, adjusting the cuffs of his suit jacket, but froze mid-step when his eyes landed on her. Lia blinked twice, her breath catching as their gazes locked. Time seemed to hold its breath.

“You look…” Lucian paused, swallowing his words before they escaped. “Felix will drive you.”

Lia kissed Georgia’s cheek. “I’ll be back soon, Mom.”

Outside, waiting for Felix to pull the car around, she paced slightly, nerves starting to settle in her chest like a weight.

Lucian walked up behind her. “Are you scared?” he asked gently.

“No,” she replied, a little too quickly.

“If you feel troubled,” he said softly, “just look at me. One signal—and I’ll be there.”

A genuine smile tugged at her lips. “Thank you,” she said, her voice touched with warmth.

Lucian’s eyes met hers. “I’m just making sure your two years of hard work doesn’t go to waste.”

“It won’t,” Lia replied, confidence returning as she winked and slid into the car.

—

The party hall of the Grand Solis Hotel glittered with chandeliers and champagne. Reporters, artists, and executives from across the entertainment world gathered in sharp suits and glittering dresses. Laughter, camera flashes, and clinking glasses filled the room with a glamorous hum.

Lucian stood at the heart of it all, host and orchestrator of the night, holding a glass of wine as he chatted effortlessly with shareholders. Yet his eyes scanned the entrance every few moments.

“She said she’d be here shortly,” Jeremy whispered beside him. “Planning a grand entrance.”

Lucian nodded once, suppressing a smile.

Suddenly, the paparazzi’s attention snapped to the front. Mr. and Mrs. Williams had arrived.

Sen, handsome in a charcoal suit, had one arm wrapped around his wife’s waist. Ophelia, dressed to perfection, gave the press her most photogenic smile while secretly surveying the room.

And then… she saw her.

A vision in silk descending the main staircase, moving like she owned the room.

Ophelia stopped cold. Her arm tightened around Sen’s as panic lit up her face.

Sen turned, following her gaze. His eyes widened. “April…”

Lucian watched with the amusement of a puppeteer pulling strings. He took a sip of wine, relishing their reactions.

“Honey?” Sen asked as Ophelia jerked him to a halt, frozen in place.

“It can’t be,” she whispered, her perfectly composed facade cracking.

Sen took a step forward toward Lia, but a broad-shouldered figure blocked his path.

“Mr. Williams,” Lucian said smoothly. “You don’t seem interested in meeting me.”

“Mr. Grey, I’m sorry, but I—can we…” Sen trailed off, clearly distracted.

Ophelia jumped in quickly, reattaching herself to Sen’s arm and smiling. “Hello, Mr. Grey.”

“You must be Mr. Williams’ wife,” Lucian said with deliberate slowness. “Your name is…?”

Ophelia fumbled but managed to answer, her eyes darting toward Lia.

“You look troubled, Mr. Williams,” Lucian said, feigning concern. “Is something wrong?”

Sen pointed toward Lia. “I don’t think she’s from the showbiz circle.”

“Oh, her?” Lucian turned casually. “Let me call her over.”

He nodded to Jeremy, who immediately went to retrieve Cordelia.

As Lia approached, grace and fire in every step, she greeted the couple with a smile that was both warm and deadly.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Williams,” she said sweetly.

Sen opened his mouth. “Apr—”

“This is Cordelia Grey,” Lucian interrupted, stepping forward. “Our newest artist. She’ll be making her debut very soon.”

Sen stared at her, visibly shaken. Ophelia stood paralyzed beside him.

“I—excuse me,” she mumbled, clutching her purse and rushing from the room.

“Is she okay?” Lia asked, tilting her head in mock concern.

“She’s fine,” Sen muttered.

“Mr. Grey, would you mind if I spoke to Cordelia privately?” Sen asked, still fixated on her face.

Lucian raised an eyebrow. “What for?”

Sen looked desperate. “Please.”

Lia’s eyes gleamed. The time had come.

Lucian gave her a slight nod. “I’ll be nearby.”

As Lucian stepped away, Lia turned to Sen with the kind of smile that belonged to a wolf in silk.

The curtains were up.

And the real performance was about to begin.