The room fell into stunned silence. All heads turned toward the source of the interruption.

Nathan stood near the entrance, his lips curled in a sneer that barely concealed his contempt.

"So let me get this straight - a woman who dropped out after middle school and spent half a decade playing housewife suddenly gets hailed as a violin virtuoso? Is that what passes for musical genius these days?"

He let out a derisive laugh that echoed through the hall.

"The internet truly works miracles these days. They can turn any nobody into an overnight sensation with enough Photoshop and auto-tune."

His words sent shockwaves through the gathered crowd. Dozens of skeptical eyes now scrutinized Amy.

"Middle school education?"

"Five years as a housewife?"

"But her performances online looked so professional..."

Nathan seized on the murmurs, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Any pop star can fake a good performance with studio magic. Pre-recorded videos prove nothing about real talent."

The implication ignited fresh whispers.

"Edited footage? That's unacceptable. This competition features live performances against international musicians. We can't risk global humiliation!"

Benjamin's expression darkened like a thundercloud.

He leveled Nathan with an icy glare. "Mr. Prescott, is this how gentlemen behave in your circles? Publicly shaming a woman without evidence?"

His gaze swept across the room, ensuring every syllable carried weight.

"Allow me to properly introduce Ms. Sinclair. She's my fellow alumnus from Solmaris Conservatory - the same institution I graduated from. Her mother, Madame Delacroix, happened to be my own mentor."

The mention of Caroline Delacroix's name worked like magic. The crowd's demeanor shifted instantly.

"Madame Delacroix's daughter?"

"The legendary Caroline Delacroix? No wonder she's so talented!"

"And a Solmaris graduate too... Remarkable."

Benjamin's revelation effectively buried Nathan's accusations about Amy's education and domestic past.

Nathan hadn't anticipated how quickly the tide would turn. His face twisted in frustration.

"Everyone knows you're close to Amy, Benjamin. Of course you'd defend her! These claims about Solmaris - where's the proof? Show us something concrete, not just photoshopped documents. People aren't that gullible!"

Benjamin, never one for verbal sparring, clenched his jaw. Amy's academic history remained a sensitive subject. The diploma was genuine, certainly, but with provocateurs like Nathan, any explanation could be twisted into doubt. In the court of public opinion, especially for someone of Amy's rising fame, perception often trumped truth.

This precise concern had kept Amy from publicly acknowledging Caroline as her mother all these years.

Amy's calm voice cut through the tension like a bow across strings.

"Mr. Prescott, you hold no official capacity here - neither judge nor jury. Your demands for proof are meaningless. Perhaps you should spend this energy consulting your lawyers instead. Might earn you some leniency."

With that, she turned away, refusing to dignify Nathan's provocations further. Engaging with such pettiness wasted precious time and energy.

At that moment, Alexander emerged from the crowd, his gaze locking onto Amy as she conversed effortlessly with those around her. Her smile held a quiet confidence, her posture radiating grace under pressure.

It was a version of his wife he'd never witnessed before.