Moreover, the seat Winston occupied was one reserved for investors.
Winston's gaze remained fixed on Theodora, his deep eyes carrying a subtle smile. He parted his lips slightly, silently mouthing, "Good luck."
Theodora responded with a faint smile before walking to the piano, taking a seat on the bench, and beginning to play.
At first, the audience didn't expect much. After all, looking beautiful didn't automatically mean playing well.
But as soon as her fingers touched the keys, the room was filled with a smooth, gentle melody. The crowd was just starting to relax when, suddenly, the music picked up pace, becoming rapid and intense, like a storm that had come out of nowhere. Then, just as quickly, it softened again, but the heaviness of the emotion lingered.
Her mastery of the piano
