"You can't be serious about making Victoria famous through scandal?"

Nathan scoffed, refusing to yield. "If she doesn't need the publicity, then the composer shouldn't matter. Why does it have to be Amy?"

Alexander ignored him, turning instead to Victoria. "Victoria, if she rose to fame as 'Celeste,' she can do it again under her real name. You know better than anyone how brilliant her compositions are. But if you'd prefer someone else, I won't force the issue."

Victoria flipped through the sheet music, her critical gaze tinged with reluctant admiration. As much as she despised Amy, the compositions were undeniably vibrant—far from the predictable, soulless work of so-called renowned composers. No wonder Celeste had gained such acclaim.

From a professional standpoint, every piece had the potential to be a chart-topper.

Her decision was swift. "Alexander is right. Ms. Sinclair's work is exceptional. We'll use her."

She shot Nathan a warning glance, silencing any further protest.

Seeing Victoria's resolve, Nathan clenched his jaw but stayed quiet.

With both parties in agreement, they moved on to finalizing the details.

Amy spoke up, her tone cool and professional. "I've documented everything discussed today. If my compositions are leaked, I will pursue legal action."

Nathan sneered. "How do we know you didn't steal these? Maybe 'Celeste' isn’t even you."

He still couldn’t reconcile that Amy—the woman he despised—was the same genius composer he’d once praised.

Amy met his gaze evenly. "If I were a fraud, I would’ve been exposed long before now. But if you're that concerned, Mr. Prescott, we can terminate this agreement immediately. For the record, every piece I’ve written is timestamped and saved. I have nothing to fear from baseless accusations."

She tilted her head slightly. "And if any of my unreleased work surfaces after today, you’ll be my first suspect."

Nathan stiffened. The thought had crossed his mind—but she’d just stripped him of the opportunity.

Alexander spoke. "Gregory, draft the contract."

Gregory nodded and left.

Alexander’s gaze shifted to Isabella, who had been standing silently in the corner. She flinched under his scrutiny, anxiety flickering in her eyes.

His voice was icy. "Isabella, as my executive assistant, such amateur mistakes are unacceptable. Do you realize how much time you’ve wasted?"

Isabella lowered her head. "I apologize, sir."

His expression darkened. "Effective immediately, you're being transferred to a regional office for one year."

Her head snapped up, panic flashing across her face. "Mr. Blackwood, I—"

He cut her off. "Or you can resign. Your choice."

Her face paled, and she fell silent.

Victoria opened her mouth to intercede, but when she caught Amy’s gaze—those sharp eyes gleaming with quiet amusement—she hesitated and stayed quiet.

As Gregory left to prepare the contract, Isabella walked away, shoulders slumped in defeat.

Then, in a sudden movement, Amy stepped toward Alexander. "One more thing."

Before he could react, a glint of steel flashed—

And a knife plunged into his abdomen.