Chapter 242

On the giant screen at the front of the room, several documents suddenly appeared.
Charlotte hit send, tossed her phone into her bag, and announced in a cool voice, “The profits from these scores, plus the compensation for Olivia’s plagiarism, will all be donated to charity.”
Scores? Laura’s hands shook as she tapped open the folder. The moment she saw what was inside, her eyes went wide.
No way.
These weren’t just any pieces of music. These were Echo’s most iconic works, the kind that belonged in a museum. No one had ever laid eyes on the full versions before. Rumor had it that someone once offered hundreds of millions to buy them and got turned down without hesitation.
Now, out of nowhere, they were being released for free. Here. In front of everyone.
The crowd erupted with chatter. The judges looked absolutely stunned, like they’d just discovered a new planet.
“If this doesn’t prove she’s Echo, I’ll fight anyone who says otherwise.”
“Now that I’ve seen Echo’s complete scores, I can die happy.”
Steven watched the chaos, then stumbled back a step, turning to Olivia, his voice shaky. “Olivia, is she really
Olivia stared at the screen, her world crumbling. She shut her eyes, barely able to whisper, “She really is Echo.” She sounded broken. “Dad, it’s over for me.”
How could that useless girl be Echo?
Steven’s face turned ashen as he froze, speechless.
Backstage, Kenneth was standing right in front of the big screen, a baseball bat still in his hand as if he’d been about to step up. His face was filled with shock. “Lottie is Echo?”
He’d been in the industry long enough to know Echo’s name was basically legend. He’d always admired her work, even tried to buy the rights for almost a hundred million dollars. She’d rejected him every time.
Now those same scores were right in front of him, for the whole world to see. The person who’d said no to him was his own sister.
He felt ridiculous.
He grumbled under his breath, “She owes me an explanation. I’m not letting her off until she writes me at least ten or twenty songs.”
Meanwhile, in another lounge, Charlotte walked in, her face unreadable, her backpack slung over her shoulder.
Inside, a familiar figure caught her eye. Anthony was there, dressed in a sharp, custom suit. He sat on the sofa, legs crossed, looking relaxed but completely focused on the screen in front of him. One hand rested on the armrest. The other held a lit cigarette, which he watched thoughtfully.
The backstage broadcast had a slight delay. The screen was just now replaying the
moment Charlotte revealed the music scores and proved she was Echo.
Hearing the door, Anthony turned. The moment he saw Charlotte’s face, he quickly put out his cigarette. His deep eyes narrowed with a Wärm malint, and a crooked, indulgent smile tugged at his lips. He O
beckoned her over.
“Lottie, come here.”
Charlotte walked over and sat down on the sofa, keeping a bit of space between them.
The next thing she knew, Anthony’s hand landed softly on her head, fingers ruffling her hair.
“Tired?”
“A little,” she answered quietly. She was just about to lean back when he suddenly scooped her up. One second she was sitting there, the next she was nestled in his arms her body fitting perfectly against his chest.
“Rest for a bit.”
He wrapped one arm around her waist, the other supporting the back of her neck.
His touch was steady and gentle.