Chapter 77

Rylie spent the next two days holed up in the apartment of the community near the military compound and skipped school. Inside, the room was equipped with full surveilance gear. Her bedroom back at Serenity Manor had already been wired with micro-cameras.

As Rylie had anticipated, once Paola learned that she hadn't been staying at the manor recently, the surveillance cameras caught Paola sneaking into her bedroom.

Rylie had set out two decoy music sheets in advance. One lay openly on the table. Paola gave it a quick look, dismissed it as gibberish, and began rifling through the drawers instead.

Before long, Paola uncovered the second sheet Rylie had forged using a piano workbook. Her excitement gave her away. She snapped photos and hurried out, convinced she'd found something real.

From her end of the surveillance feed, Rylie watched the whole act unfold. Her grin kept growing. That woman really was a joke. And yet people actually thought she was some kind of prodigy? The next Marcus,really?

Rylie brushed off the moment and turned back to her screen. She began working through intel from sea routes. Her fingers darted across the keyboard, breaking through a firewall and slipping into pirate camp servers that posed a risk to her shipping lanes.

After days of combing through logs, she ruled out the pirates as the ones behind it. Just then, her phone buzzed on the table. She stretched and glanced at the screen.

Marcus was calling.

"Rylie, the concert's starting. Are you coming? I reserved a VIP seat for you. Deandre mentioned you liked snacks, so I had some set aside at your spot."

She checked the clock. If he hadn't called, she might've missed it completely."I'm on my way.What about Deandre? He didn't say anything. Isn't he going?"

"He had a situation last night. He's alright, but he's got a few things to handle. He won't be there today."

"Alright, got it," said Rylie.

After the call, she opened her private messages. They came from the protection unit she'd sent to keep an eye on Deandre.

"Two separate groups planted bombs in his car last night. It exploded en route, but he's unharmed. We neutralized the hit squad and kept two alive for questioning. Based on what they said, this mafia conflict around him is getting worse. Everyone is trying to eliminate him and take the position as the mafia head."

Every one of the guards watching over Deandre had been chosen by her. Each of them could handle ten opponents without breaking a sweat. So she wasn't worried.

After reading through the report, she pulled on a jacket, swapped into a pair of jeans, grabbed her keys, and left the apartment on her motorcycle.

...

Marcus' solo concerts never had empty seats. They drew in society's upper crust, along with celebrities who didn't mind paying extra just to attend.

Among the guests were familiar faces from charity events-people who had heard whispers that Rylie was the long-lost daughter of the Owen family.

She arrived late. Arms trade business had held her up until the last minute. She slipped through the VIP entrance without a fuss, quietly scanning for her seat.

Across the aisle, a group of well-dressed women and their daughters caught sight of her. One of them,Isabella, raised her voice in a mocking tone. "Isn't that the girl who just returned to the Owen family? What's she doing showing up now? Did she get lost on the way in?"

Baila Torres stifled a giggle behind her hand. "I heard she spent her whole life doing whatever she wanted.The Kirks never bothered with extracurricular classes. She only cared about food, fun, and parties. Can she even follow classical music? Does she know what Marcus is playing?"

Hallie Thorpe put on a smug face and sighed. "Some people don't change. Even if they come from money,they still carry the scent of the countryside. Paola, on the other hand, has real talent. She's performing tonight."

Rylie glanced at them, unfazed. Without saying a word, she headed straight for the seat in the center of the front row-the Owen family's private section.

She had just settled in when Paola walked over, all smiles and sweetness, and said in a chirpy voice,"Rylie,why are you sitting there? That seat is reserved for one of Marcus' special guests. Yours should be further back."

Paola wanted to put her on the spot and make her look clueless in front of everyone.

Rylie didn't move. She tilted her head and asked, "What special guest?"

In truth, Paola didn't know either. She had overheard Marcus inviting a guest while passing by his piano room and later volunteered herself, hoping to be a guest at his concert.

Still, any guest Marcus personally invited would belong to the top tier of the music world. Performing with someone of his status could set a career in motion.

With a look of forced patience, Paola added, "Marcus said he invited a close friend, and this seat is theirs.lf you really want the front row that badly, we can trade. I'll be backstage soon anyway."

Rylie's fingers tapped gently on the armrest. A faint smile curled at the edge of her lips. "If it's meant for his guest, then this is exactly where I should be sitting."