"How dare you sue Lana!"
Evelyn stopped walking for a mont, her eyes fixed on the ssage flashing on her phone screen.
She read the text once more, then again, her lips forming a faint, satisfied smile.
’So, the news had reached him...’
She resud walking through the hallway. Joy flickered in her chest, quiet but triumphant.
Finally, the police were investigating Lana Scott’s embezzlent from the Walters Group.
Finally, the truth was beginning to erge.
’Lana Scott... you wanted to steal from the Walters family? Well, it’s not that easy, BITCH!’
A prison cell and a taste of poverty would be fitting rewards for a woman like her, a howrecker.
Evelyn could already imagine Lana’s shocked face when the court summons arrived.
That thought alone made her morning coffee taste even better.
...
Later that noon,
Evelyn already promised to accompany her son during his piano session.
The music room slled faintly of wood polish and old sheet music. Evelyn sat quietly in the back as her son played under the watchful eyes of his private teacher.
Oliver’s little fingers glided across the keys with confidence she hadn’t seen before.
His tempo was smoother, his touch firr.
The teacher nodded with visible pride.
"Excellent," he said. "You’ve improved a lot, Oliver. Your rhythm and hand movent are much stronger now."
Evelyn smiled. Watching him play made her heart swell with pride. It was hard to believe her little boy was only four.
Just as she was about to stand and leave the room, Oliver turned to her with a wide grin.
"Mommy, we are not done yet. I prepared a song for you to hear."
"Oh?" Evelyn blinked. "You already have a song ready? Really?"
"Mm-hmm!" His excitent was evident in his bright eyes. "Ah, Mom, please record it. Daddy needs to hear it, too."
Evelyn chuckled at his serious tone.
"Alright, my little maestro." She took out her phone, switching to video mode, and stood near him.
At first, she expected sothing simple... a few introductory notes, perhaps a short lody.
But when his tiny hands began to move, her eyes widened in disbelief.
The first few bars were unmistakable.
"The Entertainer"... by Scott Joplin.
Not the child’s version. The real one.
Evelyn nearly dropped her phone. Her mind scrambled for an explanation.
’Wait! What? I can’t even play this!’
She leaned closer, half-expecting to find a hidden speaker beneath the piano.
But no... the sound was his. Crisp, confident, flawless.
Her son was actually playing it.
When he struck the final note, Evelyn was still frozen, staring at him like he had just sprouted wings.
"Mommy... I’m done."
That tiny, proud voice snapped her out of her trance.
"Wow! You are such a genius, sweetheart..." She wrapped him in her arms and smothered his cheeks with kisses.
"Mommy," he laughed, squirming away. "Did you record it?"
"Yes. Of course..." she said, grinning from ear to ear. "Do you want to send it to Daddy?"
Oliver nodded, eyes twinkling. "Yes. Please—"
Evelyn imdiately hit send.
’Axel’s going to be so proud,’ she thought, watching the video upload.
After the piano lesson ended, she walked the teacher to the door, thanking him warmly.
"He’s a natural," the teacher said, smiling. "If Oliver continues training seriously, he could beco a big na in music soday."
Evelyn’s chest tightened with happiness.
"Thank you. I’ll make sure he never misses practicing."
Then,
She asked Jimmy to escort the teacher to his car, then turned back to see Oliver.
But he had already left the room... When she t one of the staff, he told her that Oliver had already run outside.
Through the window, she watched him play with Browny and Cloud.
She shook her head and went to her ho office.
...
The afternoon drifted by in a gentle, rhythmic pace.
Evelyn and Oliver spent hours reading storybooks and drawing silly animals.
By four o’clock, Oliver was still taking his short nap when the stylist arrived.
Evelyn watched the large suitcase of beauty tools roll into her room and suddenly felt her nerves creeping in. Her fingers curled on her lap.
It had been so long since she attended a public event, let alone one swarming with journalists, caras, and whispers.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady her heartbeat.
This wasn’t just another party.
It was the ’Charity Dinner’, an event that would be broadcast and discussed across the country.
And this ti, she would be the one everyone was watching.
Axel was right... Her presence mattered. The Walters Group needed to rebuild its image.
But that didn’t make it any less terrifying.
The stylist, a cheerful woman nad Pricilla, began her magic.
"Relax, Mrs. Knight. You’re already stunning," she said, combing Evelyn’s silky black-ink hair.
Evelyn smiled faintly.
"I wish I had your confidence."
"You’ll steal the spotlight tonight. Trust ."
The soft hum of the blow-dryer, the scent of perfu and setting powder, slowly cald her nerves.
When Pricilla finished, Evelyn barely recognized herself in the mirror.
Her hair flowed smoothly over one shoulder in soft curls. Her makeup was natural yet radiant, highlighting her high cheekbones and expressive eyes.
Then ca the gown.
A deep red silk dress that hugged her figure gracefully, neither too revealing nor too modest.
The off-shoulder neckline gave her an air of quiet confidence, while the slit that brushed her leg with every movent added a hint of allure.
As she slipped on her stilettos, Evelyn caught her reflection once more. She could see how glamorous, elegant, and powerful she appeared.
She exhaled softly. "I guess I’m really doing this," she murmured.
"Of course you are," Pricilla said, smiling as she packed up her tools. "You look like you own the whole ballroom."
Evelyn chuckled, though her chest still fluttered with nerves inside.
Oliver burst into the room just as she finished getting ready. His eyes widened, his mouth forming a small "O."
"Wow, Mommy... You look like a princess."
Evelyn smiled warmly. "Thank you, baby. Will you behave while I’m gone?"
He nodded eagerly. "I’ll tell Daddy you’re the prettiest!"
Her heart lted. She kissed his forehead and stood up, glancing once more at her reflection.
Everything was ready: the gown, the car, her composure.
’Alright, Eve! Let’s et those people...’
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