Chapter 4
I stood in the empty piano showroom, gazing toward the entrance where Zane had disappeared, my heart a tangle of emotions.
His warmth seemed to linger on my lips, and his words "This is a promise" still echoed in my ears. Was it real? Would he really contact me tomorrow? Or once the effects of whatever had happened tonight wore off completely, would he regret everything?
Just then, familiar footsteps and hushed voices drifted from outside the showroom. My heart instantly clenched—it was Kris's voice!
"She's definitely still in there!" Kris's voice carried anger and jealousy. "I'm going to show her exactly who she is!"
"Don't go too far, Kris," Vivian's voice bubbled with excitement, "though I do want to see how long she can keep up this innocent act!"
I frantically looked around, but the showroom only had one entrance. There was no time to escape...
The door burst open as Kris stormed in with three friends and Vivian, their eyes gleaming with predatory excitement.
"Ainsley Powell!" Kris's roar echoed through the showroom. "You bitch!"
I was shocked by the sudden vicious words. "What did you say?"
"Stop pretending!" He stalked closer menacingly. "Wouldn't even let me hold your hand for three years, but now you're fooling around with some random guy here? What do you take me for?"
His words cut like a knife, instantly tearing open that bloody wound deep in my heart. Those painful memories crashed over me like a tidal wave...
Four years ago, in a practice room at the Juilliard School.
"Ainsley, your Chopin is absolutely beautiful! I'm going to build a media empire, and you'll be my musical goddess!" Back then, Kris was sunny and handsome, holding roses, his eyes full of the recognition I desperately craved.
Having grown up starved for acknowledgment, I fell instantly. No one had ever praised my music like that...
"Create miracles with me!" He grasped my hands, his eyes sparkling with ambitious light.
Looking back now, those saccharine words were sticky as syrup, so nauseating they made me want to vomit. From the very beginning, he had been weaving lies.
But back then, I was blinded by love and naively believed every single word...
The summer after graduation, we moved together to a small apartment in San Francisco. Life's harsh reality quickly revealed itself.
"Ainsley, my company needs startup capital!" He excitedly waved around his business plan.
I looked at the $200,000 in my bank account—my blood, sweat, and tears from three years of piano tutoring. "I was planning to audition at Carnegie Hall..."
"Audition? You're nowhere near ready! Once my company takes off, I'll package you as a star!" He impatiently snatched the bank card from my hands.
One year passed, my savings depleted. Two years passed, I maxed out credit cards to cover his salary. Three years passed, I had emptied everything...
And his "company"? Still the same small studio on the verge of bankruptcy.
Even more terrifying were his words: "Too stupid," "useless waste," "just a burden"... seeping into my heart like poison until I began to believe I was truly worthless.
That night three months ago changed everything.
"Don't embarrass me! Just sit in the corner and don't say anything!" Before the signing ceremony, he treated me as coldly as a stranger.
After the ceremony, I went to the office to get my bag but heard intimate sounds from next door...
Kris was passionately kissing that sexy influencer Vivian, clothes scattered across the desk... For three years, I would blush just from initiating hand-holding, yet here he was with another woman...
"See? I told you she'd come. Ainsley is just a free maid—she can't do anything except give money!" He said this about me right to Vivian's face.
"That wooden beauty thinks she can compete with me? Three years and she wouldn't even let you in her bed—serves her right to be dumped!" Vivian mocked without any restraint.
"Boring as plain water!" Kris sneered in agreement, his eyes full of disgust.
Plain water... Those words pierced my heart like poison needles. Three years of humble devotion, and this public humiliation was my reward...
"Remember now?" Present-day Kris sneered, interrupting my memories. "Remember how you crawled at my feet like a dog?"
But this time, I didn't cry.
Three months of pain, the warmth Zane had given me tonight, the feeling of being protected just now... all of it suddenly made me understand something.
I was no longer that humble girl.
"Kris," I slowly raised my head, my voice surprisingly calm, "you got one thing wrong."
"What?" He froze, clearly not expecting this response.
"I was never yours," my voice grew colder. "I was just a victim of your deception."
"You..." His expression changed.
"Also," I continued, each word crisp and clear, "thank you for betraying me three months ago. If not for that, I would never have realized how stupid I was."
Vivian shrilly interjected: "Stop acting tough! We all know you..."
"Shut up." I looked at her coldly. "Is it your turn to speak?"
Everyone stared at me in shock. Even I couldn't believe I was capable of saying such things.
"Ainsley, don't push it!" Kris snarled in humiliation. "You think hooking up with some rich guy makes you special? He's just playing with you! When he gets bored, you'll still be alone!"
"Even if he's just playing," I replied with a cold smile, "it's better than being your free maid for three years."
"You bitch!" Kris exploded in rage, raising his hand to strike me.
But just then, an unexpected voice came from the entrance:
"Mr. Kris Murphy, may I ask what you're doing?"
Everyone froze.
A middle-aged man in an expensive suit walked in, followed by two professional-looking bodyguards.
"You... who are you?" Kris stammered.
"I'm Marcus Dickson, Chief Legal Officer of Harrington Tech," the man said calmly. "Mr. Harrington sent me to escort Miss Ainsley."
My heart pounded wildly. Zane... he really sent someone?
"Incidentally," Marcus continued, pulling a document from his briefcase, "Mr. Murphy, this is our detailed investigation report on your company. Very interesting findings."
Kris's face turned deathly pale.
"For instance, your misappropriation of Miss Powell's funds over three years totaled $670,000. According to the law..."
"Wait!" Kris frantically interrupted. "This... this is a misunderstanding!"
"Additionally," Marcus looked at Vivian, "Miss Rodriguez, your exclusive contract with StarMedia is still valid, correct? Your activities on other platforms appear to constitute a breach."
Vivian's face also changed.
I stood there, too shocked to speak. Zane... he was really protecting me. Even after leaving, he was still protecting me.
Marcus looked sternly at Kris and his group: "Now, leave immediately. If there's a next time, face the consequences."
Kris and Vivian looked ashen as they fled the showroom in disgrace.
Marcus politely nodded to me: "Miss Powell, the issue has been resolved. You can go home safely now."
After he left too, I stood alone in the empty piano showroom, moonlight spilling across the Steinway piano. Everything that had just happened felt like another lifetime.
I pulled out my phone—no new messages on the screen.
He had said "This is a promise," but now that he'd handled his company crisis, would he still remember me, an ordinary piano teacher?
I gently touched the piano keys, my heart filled with both the warmth of being protected and the uncertainty of what lay ahead.