Chapter 4

"You think you can just waltz in and demand to see the Fletcher family's surveillance footage?" Dad roared. "Have you not embarrassed yourself enough already?

"As long as you admit your wrongdoing and crawl back to the countryside, I can bury this matter. But if you dare kick up a fuss, I'll make sure you can't survive in Baymouth!"

It was this act again—they'd threaten and bribe in turns, all so Evelyn could keep her precious image intact.

Unfortunately, I was no longer someone they could push around.

"Sorry, but I've already started a live stream." I waved my phone, the screen displaying a live stream interface. "Dear viewers, do you see this? This is the prestigious Burch family of Baymouth.

"The eldest daughter is falsely accused of plagiarism, and not only do the parents want to break her hands without bothering to find out the truth, but they don't even have the guts to check the surveillance footage. Grab your cups, this tea is fresh."

The viewer count in the live stream room skyrocketed instantly.

"Whoa! Big drama from the upper crust!"

"The favoritism is off the charts. What, is the eldest daughter not their real kid or something?"

"The streamer's got guts! I'm obsessed!"

Rather than shrinking back at the sight of this, Evelyn boldly inserted herself into the frame.

"Nadine, turn off the live stream now. We shouldn't air our dirty laundry in public. I know that because you grew up in the countryside, you never learned to respect intellectual property. I also know how much you've longed to marry into a wealthy family.

"But you simply can't take my work and use it to deceive people. Everyone, please don't cyberbully Nadine. If anyone's to blame, it's me. I should have kept my guard around her."

Mom, who had been silent until now, faced the camera and started cursing me furiously.

"Everyone, don't be fooled by Nadine! I'm her mother, and I know better than anyone just how rotten she is. She was born with a heart condition, and her personality has become dark and twisted because of it.

"Evelyn has a gentle nature, so Nadine zeroes in on her and bullies her relentlessly. Evelyn's an internationally award-winning pianist, mind you. Meanwhile, Nadine can't do anything right, and now she's resorting to cheap tricks to latch onto a wealthy family.

"And she has the nerve to start a live stream, twisting the truth to get people to harass Evelyn online. She's utterly despicable!"

As I watched Mom smear me with everything she had, I felt a bitter taste rise in my mouth.

I truly envied Evelyn for always having someone to back her up and charge into battle for her.

"Even her own mother is saying this. Looks like the streamer did plagiarize her sister's work."

"How vile of Nadine. She gets busted and immediately livestreams to slander her sister? We need to cancel her now!"

"Yes, cancel her! My heart goes out to Evelyn for having such an evil sister. She even called Evelyn 'damaged goods.' The jealousy must be eating her alive."

The live stream's chat was flooded with abuse directed at me.

"See that? The public sees right through you," Dad said smugly. "Nadine, apologize to Evelyn right now. Otherwise, I won't just break your hands—I'll make sure your reputation is utterly ruined!"

Just then, the sound of extremely orderly footsteps suddenly came from outside the lounge.

The crowd parted like a tide cleaved in two, retreating to either side.

A group of elite bodyguards in black suits swept into the room, surrounding a young man whose presence radiated icy authority.

It was Emery Fletcher, the heir to the most powerful family in Baymouth and the sole successor to Fletcher Group.

"Emery, you've come just at the right time!" Professor Coleman could hardly wait to "expose" me.

"Here's the thief! Not only did she plagiarize Evelyn's composition, but just moments ago, she was boasting that you were utterly captivated and spellbound by her performance in there.

"Please, I implore you—order her hands broken and have her thrown out of Baymouth."

Emery glanced at her coldly, then indifferently ordered Hector Woodward, his butler, "Hector, turn on the projection screen in the main hall and pull up the original surveillance footage for number 24."

The giant projection screen directly opposite the lounge slowly descended.

All the guests crowded around, and the number of viewers in the live stream soared past five million.

Everyone was brimming with anticipation.

The screen lit up.

The footage showed me ascending the stage, my face hidden behind a fox mask.

When I approached the Steinway piano, instead of placing my hands on it, I pulled out my phone. Then, I lowered my head and began furiously swiping across the screen with my thumbs.

The inner hall's sound equipment was excellent, and from the speakers came the crystal-clear, impassioned game sound effect announcing, "First Blood!"