The Ex-Wife's Burning Elegance

Harry shot her a glance. “If you've got something to say, just spit it out. I can't stand people who beat around the bush."

Rachel didn't dare keep him in suspense any longer. She spoke up right away. "Stella's musical talent already surpasses her mother, Nora. As for me... I'm not nearly as gifted. Honestly, I worry I'll just hold you back, Harry. Who knows-maybe they'll actually beat us this time."

Harry had never thought much of Rachel. If it weren't for their teacher asking him to help, someone with Rachel's abilities wouldn't even be worth his time, let alone his criticism.

He was fiercely competitive, and since coming of age, he'd only ever lost once—a defeat that had burned into him a deep resentment toward anyone more talented than himself.

With his usual arrogance, Harry sneered, "Nora only managed to beat me before I turned eighteen. After that, she was never my match."

He paused, then scoffed, "As for this Stella... She's about to find out what real despair feels like."

Mr. Walden's attitude, Harry could sense the old man's dislike of Stella. Harry took pleasure in destroying prodigies—he certainly wouldn't go easy on her. This time, he wanted to crush Stella in front of

after Felipa's withdrawal—the event wouldn't take long. The later you performed, the more time you had to prepare, and the better

Harry wasn't completely without social skills; he didn't bother putting down those he

curry favor. The cameramen seemed to devote half their footage to

side, almost entirely ignored. They hadn't asked Harry for a photo or an autograph; instead, they were focused, calmly preparing for

filtered away, the backstage area finally

Harry strode over to

to the violin," he said, his tone mocking. “Didn't expect

face was stony,

knees and bark like a dog. You lost so badly that time. still have the video on my phone. Want