Chapter 369

Chapter 369:

Turning slightly, Linda reached out and accepted the object. A small, charred fragment—roughly the size of two knuckles.

She studied it, her fingers brushing over the burned edges. Her brows furrowed.

The fragment in Linda’s hand was small, but telling. A charred corner of a photograph. Though most of it had been lost to the flames, a faint outline remained—what seemed to be a head. The hairstyle suggested it belonged to a girl.

So, this was what Ernest was so desperate to destroy…

But why? And who was she?

She masked her thoughts with a calm nod. “That’s all for now. You may leave.”

“Yes, Miss Harris,” the servant responded before quietly stepping away. Once alone, Linda carefully tucked the fragment away, her expression unreadable.

The date was set.

This Friday. Eight o’clock.

A prime-time slot—proof of how much Blanche valued this performance. It wasn’t just another show; it was a statement. Hadley felt a rush of emotions—excitement, nerves, and the weight of expectation pressing down on her.

This was her first real stage performance. A defining moment. Failure wasn’t an option.

With tickets going on sale that night, Hadley forced herself to sleep early.

Blanche had already reassured her beforehand.

“Don’t stress over ticket sales,” she had said firmly. “Lightning Studio performances always sell out fast. Just focus on your dancing. If the premiere flops—that’s when we’ll have a problem.”

More content now at gⱯlησvℯ𝓁s․com

And sure enough, the next morning, when she checked the ticketing website, the numbers spoke for themselves. Sold out. Every single seat.

“Wow!”

Hadley covered her mouth, overwhelmed by the realization. “This is it. This is the big stage,” she thought. If she couldn’t make a name for herself here… then she would have no one to blame but herself.

Her phone chimed, snapping her out of her thoughts.

A message from Denver.

“Congratulations! The performance tickets are sold out!” A blushed, smiling emoji followed.

Hadley chuckled softly, warmth blooming in her chest. So he was keeping track of this too.

“Thank you. You’re going to be incredible. Break a leg, Hadley!”

On the other end, Denver set his phone down, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

After a pause, he opened a group chat. His fingers hovered for a moment—then he started typing.

“This Friday—Lightning Studio’s performance. VIP box tickets. Who’s in?” Denver typed out the message, hit send, and leaned back, waiting for replies.

Of course, he had already secured his own ticket.

Missing Hadley’s first performance? Not an option.

He had been prepared for anything—even buying up any unsold tickets himself if demand had been low.

.

.

.