"I caught the assistant mentioning how the boss was pulling strings for his sweetheart - casually dropping ten million like pocket change."

In high society circles, it was commonplace for wealthy tycoons to lavish their paramours with extravagant gifts and career opportunities. Amy had lost track of how many such propositions she'd rejected throughout her career.

Her refusal to compose for others stemmed from one core principle - she wouldn't allow anyone to exploit her reputation for publicity.

She'd even offered alternative arrangements to desperate petitioners - she would write their songs, provided her pseudonym "Celeste" never appeared in the credits.

Without fail, every single petitioner had withdrawn their request immediately upon hearing this condition.

Their true motives had never been about the music.

Samantha inquired, "Speaking of which, are you and Benjamin planning to perform any original compositions at the upcoming concert?"

Amy nodded. "I have five original scores prepared. If Benjamin can adapt them slightly, they'll be concert-ready."

Samantha studied her. "And the attribution? Will you credit them to 'Celeste'?" Since age sixteen, Amy had demonstrated remarkable compositional talent through her original works.

A firm shake of her head. "No. The name 'Celeste' belongs in the past."

Samantha considered this before nodding approval. "Wise decision. That name carries too much baggage. Plus, you've got vultures circling, waiting to twist anything you do into controversy."

During "Celeste's" meteoric rise, she'd become nothing short of a cultural phenomenon. With such fame came inevitable backlash.

Critics accused her of cultivating mystery, of hiding behind shadows for attention. Rumors spread that she was purely profit-driven, composing only for financial gain.

Several so-called musicians even claimed to have paid exorbitant sums for "Celeste's" work, only to publicly denounce the compositions as worthless. Former admirers became vocal detractors overnight.

More damaging were the plagiarism allegations - lengthy exposés that went viral across platforms.

Public demands mounted for her to defend her reputation - even major media outlets joined the chorus calling for her response.

Yet Amy remained unmoved.

She understood the truth: engaging with every online slander would consume her life. If any allegations held merit, legal authorities would have intervened - not internet trolls.

Most accusations were simply opportunists riding her fame for attention.

Any response would only fuel endless drama. Through the storm, "Celeste" maintained absolute silence - and eventually, the tempest subsided.

Amy's initial motivation for entering composition competitions had never been fame or fortune. She simply couldn't tolerate the condescension from certain foreign competitors.

Overnight celebrity status had been entirely unexpected.

Samantha added, "Just because you bested those international competitors, suddenly people think you shouldn't earn from your craft - as if artistry shouldn't be compensated!"

Every profession deserved fair compensation.

Yet after Amy's international triumphs, self-righteous critics demanded she distribute her work freely, as though monetizing her talent betrayed some unspoken artistic purity.

Fortunately, Amy had established independent career paths - she never relied on composition royalties.

Ultimately, she did release her works freely.

The decision didn't trouble her. "If 'Celeste' resurfaces, it would only spark investigations into my true identity. Not worth the trouble."

Her phone chimed abruptly.

Amy checked the screen.

Dominic Whitmore calling.