AFTER I AMAZED 158

Chapter 158

The title read, "Elegy for a Lost Love", a piece composed by a well-known artist, written in memory of his late wife.

The music had an ethereal, melancholic tone, haunting in its simplicity.

"I'm familiar with this piece," I said, lifting my gaze from the sheet.

Holt seemed pleased. "I've had many pianists play it for me, but none have managed to capture the feeling I'm looking for. Would you be willing to try? If you can evoke the emotions I seek, I'd like to hire you for the performance." The room seemed to still as his words hung in the air.

Before I could respond, Holt added, "I'd be willing to pay 10 million for it if you succeed."

The amount was staggering, to say the least.

It wasn't just a generous offer-it was an immense sum for playing a single piece.

"I'll do my best," I responded, though I couldn't shake the sense that his request would be no easy task.

"But I'll need to know more about the feeling you want conveyed."

Holt leaned back in his chair, his face thoughtful.

"The feeling," he mused, "it's not something I can put into words. That's what makes it difficult."

His vague answer only added to my unease.

This would be more than just a musical performance-it would be an attempt to capture an emotion that even he couldn't describe.

been silent up until now, seized the opportunity to

think you can handle it, Elizabeth, you might want to step down now.

glance, refusing to rise to the

Holt," I said firmly, my voice

it meant proving Andrew wrong, I would not

seemed satisfied

reached into his jacket and pulled out a chequebook, writing out a sum. He tore the cheque from the book and handed

a deposit. If I'm not pleased with

cheque, trying not to let the weight of the

down to the cheque, then back up

and

quiet but filled with warmth. "I've secured a business deal with

arrogant to boast

fails, she'll bring shame

to myself." I took the

twisted with barely

clear that Mr. Holt's focus was now on

99.4%

Chapter 158

been his staunch ally, seemed drawn to

maintain his composure, offered a tight-lipped

say, though

that followed was a formal

the surface, the battle lines

flicking between me and Leo, as though he

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