Chapter 49
Hearing Leo seemingly defending Leopold, I drop my hands and ask coldly, "So you're saying there's some hidden reason why Leopold would talk like that?"
"That's not what I meant."
Perhaps realizing his tone was off, Leo quickly backtracks. "I'm just saying—after ten years together, he wouldn't treat you this way without reason. Maybe there's been a misunderstanding..."
"There's no misunderstanding."
I firmly shut down his doubts.
Then I pull out my phone and play the two voice messages Sophia sent me, one after another.
Almost immediately, Leo's expression tightens, his entire body radiating an indescribable, dangerous energy.
"There. Believe me now?"
I put my phone away and shift positions, leaning back on the couch to watch him.
Leo's breathing grows heavy, like he hasn't quite emerged from those emotions yet.
Exhausted in body and spirit, I half-recline on the sofa, too drained to speak.
Ten whole years of feelings—crumbling so easily in the face of reality.
I'm truly tired.
Before I know it, I've fallen asleep.
When I wake again, I'm in bed.
And Leo's no longer in the room.
There's a note on the nightstand.
[I have the morning shift. Went to the bar early. Will contact you later.]
I tear the note into pieces and toss it in the trash. After a quick cleanup, I get ready to leave.
By chance, I notice Leo's cuff links on the desk.
I slip them into my bag without thinking.
When I get home, I hear voices inside the moment I open the door.
Looking up, I spot Ethan.
"Ethan?"
There are no visible injuries on his face—Leopold's men must not have given him trouble last night.
"Cindy, are you okay?" Seeing me, Ethan immediately stands to check on me.
I shake my head. "I'm fine. What brings you here?"
Ethan studies me carefully, only relaxing once he's satisfied I'm unharmed. "Since I'm back in the country for once and your parents are here too, I figured I'd drop by."
Ethan's eaten at our house a few times before. My parents have always liked him.
So naturally, they're warm and welcoming this time too, insisting on cooking and having Ethan stay for dinner.
I quickly intervene. "Mom, Dad—Ethan's an international ballet judge now, and I'm a competitor. It wouldn't be appropriate for him to eat here. Maybe next time?"
"How can that be? Ethan came all the way back to the country and made a special trip to see us. We can't not feed him even one meal!"
No sooner does Fanny finish than James chimes in, "Exactly. That would be terribly rude."
Ethan hastily interjects, "Mr. Wipere, Mrs. Wipere—I actually have plans with someone. Let's do it next time. After this competition ends, I'll come bother you again."
Only then do my parents relent.
After chatting a bit more, Ethan says he needs to leave. James pulls me along to see him out.
The car picking up Ethan is a sleek black sedan with no visible logos, but you can tell at a glance it's worth a fortune.
"Mr. Wipere, no need to see me further. Goodbye, Cindy."
After bidding us farewell, Ethan gets in and drives away.
"That car—from the glass to the frame—all highest-grade defensive materials. This Ethan's no ordinary person."
At James's observation, I can't help but pause.
Though Ethan and I have a decent relationship, I know nothing about his family.
I'd always assumed he was just another rich kid. But what ordinary trust fund baby needs top-level security?
Thinking back on Ethan's trajectory these past two years—raw talent alone wouldn't be enough.
Clearly, his family pulled strings, too.
"Dad, never mind about others. Let's just focus on living our own lives well."
...
I spend another day recuperating at home.
As the competition date draws near, I can't sit still any longer. After considerable effort convincing my parents, I finally make it to the dance company.
Right now is when everyone practices.
I'd assumed not many people would know I was coming, but the moment I step into the studio, I'm immediately surrounded.
"Cindy, what are you doing here? Is your leg fully healed?"
I'm used to being ignored—being mobbed like this feels strange.
"Pretty much."
"Cindy, you're amazing! You actually placed first in the semifinals."
"Right? Now we're riding your coattails too. A department head even came specifically to see you, but when they heard you were injured, they said they'd come back another time."
"Exactly! This is the best result our company's achieved since its founding! Even the director's been getting invited to all sorts of high-profile events thanks to you."
"I heard we're getting bonuses this quarter—all thanks to Cindy!"
Everyone talks over each other excitedly.
I understand the shift in how they treat me stems entirely from my first-place finish in the semifinals.
That result carries serious weight even nationally.
Nobody wants to offend a rising star.
"Thanks, everyone."
After managing their enthusiasm, I head straight to the small practice room I used to frequent.
The moment I push open the door, I see Lillian inside practicing.
Right now, all her attention is on her movements—she hasn't noticed me at all.
Watching her stretch her legs forcefully, spin, every look intensely focused and serious—I'm somewhat taken aback.
This is completely different from the Lillian I remember.
"Who's there?"
Sensing someone watching, she whips around angrily.
But when she sees it's me, her fury instantly dissipates.
Without a word, she grabs her bag and water bottle from the floor and heads my way.
"Since you're here, I'll give this practice room back to you."
Is she being this accommodating?
Watching her push the door open, about to leave, I finally speak.
"Lillian, you were the one watching me practice outside that day. That's how you could steal my choreography during the semifinals by manipulating the draw order."
Lillian shoots me a panicked glance. She neither confirms nor denies it.
My gaze sweeps over her silently clenched fists. "Was this your own idea, or did Sophia put you up to it?"
Lillian's guilt is obvious. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"No, you know exactly what I mean." My tone is certain. "Even though I didn't see you, if I insist on investigating, what you did definitely won't stay hidden. They might even revoke your competition eligibility."
The color drains rapidly from Lillian's face, leaving her pale.
After a long hesitation, she finally seems to deflate like a puppet with cut strings, shoulders sagging. "What do you want me to do?"
Seeing her finally drop the act, I allow myself a faint smile.
"What exactly did Sophia tell you about me? And what did she have you help her with?"
"Everything, big or small—tell me exactly as it happened."
Lillian isn't the type to hold out stubbornly. She quickly spills everything Sophia told her.
It's more or less what I expected.
Sophia portrayed herself as Leopold's childhood companion, claiming Leopold chose me only because she loved ballet. After she left, Leopold was devastated—which is why he found me, another ballet dancer.
She even fabricated living with Leopold at the Percy Manor.
Lillian believed it all completely—until she saw Fanny and me at the haute couture boutique, and Donovan throwing me a celebration party. Only then did she realize Sophia had deceived her.
I indicate that Lillian can leave.
She takes two steps toward the door, then hurries back, lowering her voice to warn me.