Chapter 272: Under the Spotlight, the Truth Bleeds

The day of the charity concert came faster than I expected.For the past few days, I’d been buried in work for the Ashbourne Group’s branch office, trying to learn the flow and keep everything steady. My head had been full of numbers, meetings, and signatures. Still, I made sure I arrived early for rehearsal. I didn’t want anything to go wrong tonight.

I held up my gown with one hand as I walked toward the changing room. The hallway smelled like perfume, hairspray, and nerves. Just as I rounded a corner, I heard raised voices.

Lincy and Yenick were arguing in the shadow of the corridor.

"I heard Grant is back in Snowville," Yenick said, sounding careful. "It’s been a long time... is he still angry with you?"

Lincy’s face tightened at Grant’s name. She tried to hide it, but I saw it her eyes flickered like she remembered that day outside the restaurant, when his hand closed around her throat and he meant it.

"Yeah," she answered, pretending it didn’t matter. "So?"

"You’re father and daughter," Yenick pressed. "There’s no reason to hold a grudge. I heard he’s starting a project with Hale Group soon. Can’t you just apologize to him?"

Yenick leaned closer, voice dropping into a plea. "Things aren’t going well for me at home. I’m counting on Grant to give me a way out."

Lincy’s mouth curled, impatient. "Apologize for what? I didn’t do anything wrong."

Yenick’s eyes darted around. "Lincy, I heard Riley has been shadowing Grant lately. Learning the company. He even introduced her to business partners. I’m worried he’s going to hand the branch over to her. And you’re still sulking if you keep this up "

Lincy slapped his hand away like he was annoying her. "Are you done? I have a performance. We’ll talk later."

"Lincy " Yenick started again, but stopped himself. He looked like he wanted to push harder, yet didn’t dare. He still wanted to cling to the Ashbourne name, even if it was slipping through his fingers.

I walked past quietly, my face calm.

But inside, my instincts stayed sharp.

Because I knew what was coming.

We had rehearsed several times. Lately, Lincy had been avoiding me whenever she saw me, like she could feel the ground shifting under her feet. She didn’t want trouble, and she definitely didn’t want me near her lies.

Rehearsal went smoothly. Everyone hit their marks, and the music flowed the way it should. Yael was there too, but he never got close enough to speak with me. There were too many classmates around.

Still, every now and then, I felt his eyes drift to me.

It wasn’t admiration.

It felt like being measured.

Like he was looking at me the way a hunter looks at a path he already knows.

I kept my face steady and my posture relaxed, the way Lewis taught me act natural. Don’t show fear.

Right before we went on stage, a classmate whispered excitedly, "Lincy, I heard the president of the Ashbourne Group is here today. Is your dad coming to support you?"

Lincy’s face went pale so fast it looked like the blood drained out of her in one pull.

"M-my stomach hurts," she stammered. "I think I need to rest."

Yael stepped in like he’d been waiting for that moment. "We’re about to go on stage," he said firmly. "Lincy, you need to push through."

Lincy bit her lip, eyes wide with panic. "Yael, it really hurts. I don’t want to pass out on stage and ruin everything."

Yael’s expression didn’t change. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pack of medicine. "I brought painkillers in case anyone had an issue," he said smoothly. "Looks like you’re in luck. Take one."

Lincy froze.

She had no excuse left.

Yael didn’t give her time to escape. He guided her forward, almost dragging her onto the stage with the rest of us.

The lights hit my face as we walked out, bright and warm. The crowd was a dark sea beyond the glow. I scanned the VIP seats without meaning to.

And there they were.

Grant and Lewis sat together, heads bent in quiet conversation. Two powerful men, sitting shoulder to shoulder like the world couldn’t move them.

The moment I stepped into the light, both of them looked up at the same time.

Their gazes landed on me in sync.

A classmate behind me whispered, "Lincy, your dad is looking at you."

Lincy didn’t even dare turn her head.

But I saw her.

The tiny shake in her hands. The sweat at her hairline. The fear tightening her mouth.

She wasn’t just nervous about performing.

She was terrified Grant would expose her. Terrified he’d tear the mask off in front of everyone.

I met Lewis’s eyes for one second. He gave me a calm look, steady and protective, like a silent promise through our bond.

Then my gaze slid past him.

And my stomach dropped.

Vito was sitting behind Lewis.

Just seeing him made heat flare under my skin. All I could think about was Whitney my sister still trapped in his hands. My fingers tightened around my violin so hard my knuckles ached.

How could monsters sit in public like this?

How could they breathe the same air as everyone else and still look proud?

I forced myself to inhale slowly, to stay in control, and lifted my bow.

The music began.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lincy struggling. She was out of sync, too stiff, too distracted. Her fear was louder than the rhythm.

But our class carried the performance. We played like we were one body, one heartbeat. When the final note ended, the applause hit the room like thunder.

I glanced at Lincy again.

She looked like she wanted to run.

On the screen above the stage, the donation numbers climbed rapidly. Students and guests tried to outdo each other. But the total kept surging until it reached something unbelievable.

Thirty million.

The room went still for a beat, stunned by the number. Then whispers spread like wind through grass.

The host stepped forward with a microphone, voice booming with excitement. "Thank you to everyone for participating in this charity event especially Mr. Ashbourne of the Ashbourne Group, who personally donated twenty million. Our school will award him the title of ’Ambassador of Love.’ Mr. Ashbourne, would you like to say a few words?"

Grant stood up.

He looked sharp in a fitted suit, hair neatly styled. The weight loss made him look even more striking, his features hard and clean. I heard some younger girls whispering behind me.

"Lincy, your dad is so handsome."

"I envy you. He probably donated that twenty million for you."

"Lincy, does your dad need another daughter? What about me?"

Lincy’s face was tight with panic. She couldn’t even fake a smile.

The host asked, "Mr. Ashbourne, with such a generous donation, I’m sure you must be someone who regularly does charity work?"

Grant’s gaze shifted toward me.

But I knew he wasn’t looking at me.

He was looking through me.

Looking at Riley.

"No," he said firmly. "I’m here because of my daughter. I made a lot of mistakes in the past. She has always been kind. Always cared about charity. As her father, it’s my responsibility to support her."

The host nodded eagerly. "With a father like you, I’m sure your daughter is exceptional too. In that case, would you mind letting your daughter present the award to you?"

"Of course," Grant said.

The host turned toward us with a smile. "Ms. Ashbourne, could you please do the honor?"

The crowd buzzed. The students turned without thinking.

And they pushed Lincy forward.

"Go on, Lincy!"

"You’re the pride of our class!"

Lincy stumbled a step, caught between fear and pride and pure survival. Yenick watched from the side, tense and pale, like he could feel the lie breaking apart.

Lincy had no choice.

She forced herself forward, chin trembling, reaching toward the medal like she could make it real if she just touched it.

Her fingers were inches away.

Then Grant’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

"Are you my daughter?"

The room froze.

A shockwave moved through the crowd.

Lincy went stiff, trapped in the spotlight, unable to step forward or back.

The host cleared his throat awkwardly. "Mr. Ashbourne... you’re joking, right? We all know Lincy is your daughter."

Grant didn’t even blink.

"She’s not."

You could almost hear the room trying to process it.

Lincy had been photographed with Grant in headlines before. Riley the real daughter had never been shown. People assumed the loud one was the real one.

Grant reached for the microphone, his voice cold and clear.

"Lincy and I have no blood relation," he announced. "Riley is my only daughter."

His mouth curled slightly, contempt sharp in his tone.

"Lincy is just an impostor," he said, "thrown out by the Ashbournes."