Farewell to Love: The CEO's Desperate Chase novel Chapter 52

"Wait, hold on. I feel like there's more drama to come," someone whispered. "If we spill everything now, it's not worth it. Let's just wait and see."

Vivienne still didn't understand the world of showbiz.

The number of recording devices officially disclosed never matched how many were actually on set.

There were always paparazzi, secret recordings, leaks for cash—always someone trying to make a quick buck.

Otherwise, where would all those juicy scandals come from?

And even so, the ones that actually make it out to the public are only a fraction; most get bought up and buried before anyone ever hears a word.

…

Backstage.

"Next performer's almost done. Serena, you're up," the stage manager called.

Emilia stepped onto the stage, her heels clicking softly against the floor.

Meanwhile, Tyler had already gotten up from his seat and was making his way out. He usually didn't bother with events like this; the only reason he'd come tonight was to see Vivienne's performance.

Now that she'd finished, he figured he might as well leave.

But he'd barely taken a few steps when the third act was announced.

He glanced back at the stage.

"Our next performer is Serena, singing ‘Yesterday Once More'…"

As the emcee's voice echoed through the auditorium, Tyler remembered—this was the girl Vivienne had mentioned, the one Christian was rumored to be keeping on the side.

For some reason, Tyler stopped in his tracks, curiosity prickling at him.

He looked at the stage.

He'd heard people talk about the mysterious Masked Woman all night, but this was the first time he was seeing her for himself.

The light focused on her alone as the fiery-rose costume slipped from her shoulders, the shifting lights revealing scars beneath the layers of foundation—jagged lines crossing her pale skin, raw and unforgettable.

Especially at her joints, the marks were deep—old wounds, clearly grave.

The scars, intertwined with her playing, gave her a fragile beauty, as if she was dancing on the edge of life and death.

Surrounded by flames, she looked as though she was being reborn, redeemed by the very fire that threatened to consume her.

Her red dress flared as she played, slender and ethereal, breathtaking in her intensity.

With each crescendo, all eyes remained locked on her.

Phoenix Rose.

That was the name that flashed through every mind in the auditorium.

The fire died away. The music faded. Yet no one in the audience could quite tear themselves away from the spell she'd cast.