NovelTrueHarry shot her a glance. “If you've got something to say, just spit it out. | can't stand people who beat around the
bush."
Rachel didn't dare keep him in suspense any longer. She spoke up right away. "Stella's musical talent already
surpasses her mother, Nora. As for me... I'm not nearly as gifted. Honestly, | worry I'll just hold you back, Harry.
Who knows-maybe they'll actually beat us this time."
Harry had never thought much of Rachel. If it weren't for their teacher asking him to help, someone with Rachel's
abilities wouldn't even be worth his time, let alone his criticism.
He was fiercely competitive, and since coming of age, he'd only ever lost once—a defeat that had burned into
him a deep resentment toward anyone more talented than himself.
With his usual arrogance, Harry sneered, "Nora only managed to beatbefore | turned eighteen. After that,
she was never my match."
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He paused, then scoffed, "As for this Stella... She's about to find out what real despair feels like."
From Mr. Walden's attitude, Harry could sense the old man's dislike of Stella. Harry took pleasure in destroying
prodigies—he certainly wouldn't go easy on her. This time, he wanted to crush Stella in front of everyone, leaving
her utterly powerless to fight back.
The competition began soon after. Performance order was determined by ranking, with those at the bottom
going first. Since there weren't many contestants left—just nine after Felipa's withdrawal—the event wouldn't
take long. The later you performed, the more tyou had to prepare, and the better you could adjust your state
of mind.
Many contestants approached Harry for autographs and photos before the show started. Arrogant as he was,
Harry wasn't completely without social skills; he didn't bother putting down those he considered beneath him —it
just wasn't worth the effort. As a result, a lot of the participants found him less unpleasant than the rumors
suggested.
Several judges, upon hearing that Harry himself had entered, hurried over to chat and curry favor. The
cameramen seemed to devote half their footage to Harry and Rachel's team; their corner was bustling, almost
festive.
In contrast, Stella's group sat quietly off to one side, almost entirely ignored. They hadn't asked Harry for a photo
or an autograph; instead, they were focused, calmly preparing for their performance.
As showtapproached and the judges filtered away, the backstage area finally fell quiet.
That's when Harry strode over to Antoney.
"I'm surprised you're still clinging to the violin," he said, his tone mocking. “Didn't expect that.”
Antoney's face was stony, ignoring Harry completely.
Harry chuckled, as if recalling something amusing. "Remember our little wager, Antoney? Loser had to drop to
their knees and bark like a dog. You lost so badly that time. still have the video on my phone. Wantto show it
to your precious protégé?"
Antoney's face drained of color, his eyes wide with shock. He clenched his jaw. "Shut up, Harry."
Harry flashed a self-satisfied smile. “If you wantto stop, you'll have to beg.”
Stella had assumed Harry was just talking trash, but seeing Antoney's reaction, her heart sank. When had this
happened? Why hadn't she heard a word about it?
Harry's gaze shifted to Stella. “So,
you're Nora's daughter-Stella, right? Your mentor here is useless. Couldn't even defend your teacher's honor. |
wonder if you'll turn out just as pathetic as he is?"
Stella's expression grew colder by the second.
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