Chapter 284
Chapter 284:
Yelena, unfazed, cast the assistant a disinterested glance before turning back to the rack of clothes, resuming her browsing as if none of it mattered.
Monica pursed her lips and glided toward the dresses, Amanda and Bella in tow.
Amanda plucked a white one-shoulder gown from a nearby rack, holding it up with a delighted smile. “Monica, look at this one! It’s perfect for you p>
Monica’s lips curved in subtle approval as she imagined herself wearing it. Its elegant simplicity complemented her signature style perfectly.
She could already picture herself onstage, violin in hand, exuding ethereal beauty under the stage lights.
“It’s lovely,” she said, nodding thoughtfully. “The design is understated, but it accentuates the figure beautifully p>
Amanda’s grin widened as she leaned closer. “Exactly! And Austin will be there too. Monica, you’ll have him absolutely mesmerized in this p>
Monica’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly, and she lowered her gaze modestly. “Amanda, you’re always teasing me. But yes, I’ve already sent him an invitation, and he promised to come p>
“Of course he did! You should make sure to dress to impress. It’s time to remind everyone—especially certain people out there—that Austin’s attention isn’t up for grabs, no matter how much they might hope otherwise,” Amanda replied, her tone turning sly. She shot a fleeting glance toward Yelena, her voice lowering conspiratorially.
Yelena didn’t bother to dignify their remarks with a proper response. These people truly lived in a world powered by their own wild imaginations.
Monica, however, took Yelena’s silence as a victory. She straightened, a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes.
“Yelena, since we know each other, why don’t you come to my concert this weekend? It would be lovely to have you there p>
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Yelena’s reply was as indifferent as her expression. “Thanks for asking, but I’m not sure if I’ll be free this weekend p>
Amanda’s frown deepened, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Seriously, Yelena? Monica’s invitation is such a big deal, and you’re acting like it doesn’t matter p>
Bella jumped at the chance to assert herself. “Monica, don’t take it personally. My sister didn’t mean it that way. Maybe… she just doesn’t really get violin music. Not everyone can appreciate the level of talent you bring to the stage p>
Yelena arched a brow, her voice cool and cutting. “Really? And when exactly did you develop psychic abilities, Bella? I must’ve missed that update. Please, enlighten me—how do you know what I’m thinking p>
Bella’s confident facade wavered, her smile faltering into something more forced. “I was just, um… making an observation. Monica’s concerts are a big deal, you know. Tickets sell out in no time. Being invited is a real privilege p>
Yelena tilted her head, her tone shifting to mock politeness. “Oh, I see. So if I don’t go, I’d be snubbing this grand honor, is that it? Well, fine.” She gave a dismissive shrug, her voice slipping into nonchalance. “I’ll come. After all, I’ve only ever heard Wing play the violin. It might be fun to see someone else give it a try p>
Monica’s eyes widened, her usual composed expression cracking as disbelief flickered across her face. “Did you just say Wing? That mysterious violinist everyone talks about? When… when did you hear her play p>
Wing. The mere mention of the name sent ripples of shock through the room.
Wing’s true identity was a mystery. She always performed behind a mask, adding an air of intrigue to her already legendary reputation.
Her concerts were rare, reserved for only the most significant events, and her audience often included royalty.
The princess of Frousal was even rumored to be a devoted fan.
For someone like Yelena to claim she had heard Wing perform—it just didn’t add up!
Monica’s gaze narrowed, skepticism etched across her features. She couldn’t believe Yelena’s story.
How could someone like Yelena claim familiarity with a figure as legendary as Wing? The very idea felt absurd. Yelena’s faint smile remained, serene and unyielding. “I’ve watched her performance a couple of times,” she said with a calm assurance that sent ripples of doubt through the room. “So, Miss Mitchell, I’m curious to see how your performance compares. Perhaps it will offer a new perspective p>
Monica’s expression hardened, her skepticism intensifying. “You’re making that up,” she snapped, her voice brittle with frustration. “There’s no way someone like you could have ever heard Wing perform p>
Even as a famous violinist herself, Monica had only been fortunate enough to hear Wing’s playing once, and even then, from a distant seat in a grand hall.
The memory of that ethereal sound haunted her as a perfection she could only aspire to reach.
And now, Yelena—a woman who seemed utterly detached from the world of music—was standing there, claiming to have a familiarity Monica herself could only dream of. It simply didn’t add up. Surely, Yelena didn’t even comprehend the artistry of the violin.