The current rankings showed a girl named Liora holding first place by a wide margin, with Helena in second. Sybil, through her own skill, had managed to secure third.
The moment the results were announced, Sybil was ecstatic. During the intermission, she secretly sought out Liora, and the two disappeared into a private lounge for a long, confidential talk.
Afterward, Sybil intercepted Helena near the stage, pulling her into a corner. “Alright, I won’t have your parents fired,” she whispered. “You win. Name your price.”
Helena’s lips thinned. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb. You need money, don’t you?” Sybil said, a smug look on her face. “The prize for this competition is only a million dollars. I’ll double it. How does two million sound?”
Helena’s eyes flickered with contempt. “Do you think everyone is as corrupt as you are? Art can’t be bought.”
She turned to leave, but Sybil blocked her path again, her voice tight with frustration. “Fine, five! Five million dollars! That should be enough, right? If you’re careful, that could last you half a lifetime! You’d be wise to be as sensible as Liora.”
An image of Mr. X’s silhouette flashed through Helena’s mind. She bit her lip and took a step back. “No.”
She was betting everything on winning first place. The opportunity for a solo tour abroad, the prestige of becoming a renowned pianist—it would grant her a stable career and a future far more respectable than being known as someone who sold out.
Watching Helena walk away, Sybil seethed with rage. She impulsively lunged forward, grabbing Helena’s hand and slamming it against the hard wall.

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