The Blackened Odds by Mark Twain 8
Chapter 8
I expected Julian to come after me immediately. The Graysons had influence, but their world was music and
art. The Sterlings had their hands in everything. They had the kind of reach that could erase a person
overnight.
But weeks passed, and nothing happened. Julian didn’t appear again. Vivian disappeared.
The only thing I noticed was a brief headline about Sterling Group stock taking a dive.
Adrian found me the best hand specialist in the country. Recovery was brutal. Every session felt like my
fingers were breaking all over again.
I’d be drenched in sweat, biting down hard to keep from making a sound.
Adrian was there through all of it. When my hands started shaking from the pain, he’d bring me water. After
each session, he’d sit at the piano and play something soft, until my breathing slowed.
He told me my hands would heal, but the spirit needs its own time.
His studio became a place where the rest of the world didn’t matter. Just music, and the light moving outside
as the days passed.
I started arranging again. At first, my fingers were so stiff I could barely move them. I couldn’t even hit the
simplest chords. It made me want to quit.
Adrian would pick up the sheets I’d crumpled and thrown away, smoothing them flat.
“Music wasn’t a sport, Lily. It wasn’t about perfect technique. It’s about vulnerability. One honest note bleeds
more than a thousand perfect scales.”
He changed how I thought about playing. I stopped chasing hard pieces just to prove I could. Instead, I poured everything into the music. The pain, the despair, the slow climb back.
My playing had weight now, something it had never had before.
That day, I was working on a new melody. The assistants were huddled together, talking in hushed voices. I
caught Julian’s name. Then Vivian’s.
I pulled out my phone and opened social media for the first time in months.
The top headline screamed: [Sterling-Summers Merger Dead: Engagement Called Off.]What came next hit even harder.
The truth about Vivian shattered her carefully curated image.
Academic fraud. A fake résumé. All those international awards she bragged about? Her father had paid for every one of them.
The piece that launched her career turned out to be stolen. Stolen from me. A practice piece I’d written in
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college and never released.
One photo was everywhere online. Vivian, being dragged out of the Sterling HQ by security, screaming at
Julian’s tinted car window.
Julian wasn’t in the shot. But I knew exactly what his face would look like. Hard. Final.
Lower down, someone had leaked an audio clip. Vivian talking to a man I didn’t recognize.
“Did you take care of everything?”
“Relax. The guys I hired know what they’re doing.”
“Did Julian believe it?”
“He bought it. He thinks Lily’s mom faked the whole thing for cash.”
“And that Lily was only ever after his money.”
“Perfect. I want him to hate her so much it destroys her.”
м
The clip was barely a minute, but it said everything.
I couldn’t breathe. None of it had been an accident. Vivian had been planning it for years, ever since I’d turned down her offer to work together.
She’d studied Julian, his pride, his paranoia. Then she turned what he felt for me into something sharp enough to cut me open. Mom’s death was a prop in her sick game.
I shut my phone off. My whole body went numb.
When I looked up, Adrian was there. “It’s behind you.”
I met his eyes. My eyes stung. “Adrian, I want to go see my mom.”
He didn’t ask why. “I’ll go with you.”
The cemetery was quiet but for the wind in the trees. Sunlight lay across Mom’s photo. She looked so peaceful.
I set down white lilies and knelt. I talked to her for a long time, told her I was okay now, that I had work I loved and people who cared about me. She didn’t need to worry anymore.
We stayed until the sun began to sink and our shadows stretched long across the grass. Adrian stayed close the whole time, not saying a word.
He brushed the tears from my cheeks. “Lily, It’s getting dark.”
“Let’s go home.”
I nodded and started to get up.
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That’s when I saw him.
Julian, standing twenty feet away in a black coat. He looked leaner. The arrogance I remembered was gone. He just looked tired. Broken.
He didn’t move, just watched. Something raw showed in his eyes. He saw me. Saw Adrian beside me. Saw
Adrian touch my face.
He looked like he wanted to come closer but couldn’t make himself move. He stayed where he was.
Adrian and I turned to go.
Julian dropped to his knees at Mom’s grave. He slumped forward, burying his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking violently. A guttural, broken sob tore out of him.
The sound hit me like a punch.
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Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.
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