Chapter 421
Chapter 421:
Austin still remembered the way Yelena’s fingers danced across the strings, the hauntingly beautiful sound that seemed to hang in the air long after she’d finished.
“I hope you do well,” Austin said, his voice soft but sincere. Then, after a brief pause, he added, “If it’s not too much to ask, could you play Paganini’s 24th Caprice again p>
Yelena’s brows lifted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. Back then, she had chosen the piece to prove a point—to overshadow Monica in her own concert since the woman was set to humiliate Yelena in public.
She hadn’t expected anyone, least of all Austin, to truly appreciate it.
“There are many beautiful pieces,” Yelena replied, deflecting his request with a graceful ambiguity.
Austin smiled faintly, respecting her choice. “I’m looking forward to hearing whatever you play p>
When Yelena stepped onto the stage, the murmur of the audience swelled, shifting from curiosity to surprise.
“Wait, isn’t Monica supposed to perform?” someone whispered.
“Who is that p>
“Not a clue p>
Yelena wore a striking feathered mask, her identity concealed save for those who truly knew her.
“Hold on,” another voice chimed in. “Doesn’t she seem familiar? Back at the university’s anniversary celebration, wasn’t there a pianist who played like a prodigy p>
“Could it be her? Has she switched to violin now p>
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A different voice broke through, dripping with skepticism. “You guys don’t get it, do you? Word is, she schemed to get Monica pushed aside just to take the stage herself p>
“But Monica denied it,” someone responded.
“She liked a comment about it, though,” another interjected.
“And then unliked it, claiming it was a mistake p>
“Of all the comments, Monica ‘accidentally’ liked that one?” a skeptical voice hissed among the crowd. “She claims it was a mistake, but do you really buy it p>
“I don’t,” another replied, the tone sharp with disbelief.
The hall buzzed with murmurs, a mix of gossip and idle chatter, as most of the audience paid little attention to the woman on stage.
Well, most of them—Austin, seated toward the front, was an exception. His eyes stayed locked on Yelena, unwavering, his admiration evident.
Erica, too, had her gaze fixed on the stage.
Then, the first note rang out, the sound of the violin filling the hall and silencing the restless crowd. The microphone amplified the delicate tone, capturing every nuance of the melody. Heads turned toward Yelena, the whispers fading into an attentive hush.
Austin leaned forward slightly, captivated.
Today, Yelena was performing Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto in E Minor.
This piece, hailed as one of the most exquisite violin concertos ever composed, shared its legendary status with Beethoven’s, Tchaikovsky’s, and Brahms’ Violin Concertos in D Major. Together, they formed the revered quartet of Western classical music’s greatest violin concertos, each a masterpiece of unparalleled beauty and complexity.
The music poured forth like liquid sunlight, a melody that seemed to dance between delicate fragility and bold exuberance. It was a celebration of beauty, a lyrical testament to life’s richness. Each note shimmered with passion and vibrancy, stirring the soul with romance and the irrepressible joy of youth.
The audience sat mesmerized, transported by the intricate dialogue between the violin and the orchestra.
“Incredible!” someone exclaimed, breaking the quiet. “That piece is a monster to play—and she nailed it p>