Chapter 3 Emily’s Return

The Emerald City Grand Theater, one of the country's premier art venues. The backstage rehearsal room was packed with people at the recruitment event. The nation's finest musicians had gathered here, competing for a few vacant positions in the orchestra.

When Emily pushed open the door, the entire noisy room fell silent in an instant.

All eyes focused on her, filled with shock, confusion, and a hint of curiosity to see drama unfold.

"...Emily?" The theater's artistic director, a man in his fifties, was the first to react.

He pushed up his glasses, hardly believing his eyes. "Is it really you?"

Emily nodded slightly and handed over a resume. "Mr. Hernandez, long time no see. I'm here to apply for a comeback."

Steven took the simple resume, his fingers trembling slightly.

Seven years ago, Emily was the principal violinist he had promoted against all opposition, the soul of the entire orchestra.

Everyone thought she would become a legend of the new generation, but at the peak of her career, she chose to retire for a man.

"Are you... are you sure?" Steven's voice was full of regret and confusion. "You gave up your position as principal, just for..."

"For a wrong decision." Emily calmly interrupted him. "Now, I'm here to correct that mistake."

Her voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone present clearly. A wave of whispered discussions broke out around them.

Steven looked at her deeply, seeing in her clear and determined eyes the flame from years ago.

He nodded and solemnly accepted the resume. "The rehearsal room is over there. You can go get a feel for it first."

Emily thanked him, ignored the surrounding gazes, and walked straight to an empty rehearsal room.

She took out the violin that had accompanied her for over a decade from its case and placed it on her shoulder.

The moment the bow touched the strings, a familiar thrill spread from her fingertips through her entire body.

She closed her eyes and drew the bow. Beautiful music flowed from beneath her fingers.

The notes were sometimes passionate, sometimes gentle, full of long-suppressed explosive power.

This was her, this was the feeling of controlling her own life.

Meanwhile, at the Smith Group's top-floor office.

James had just finished a video conference, his expression stern. His secretary knocked and entered, respectfully reporting: "Mr. James Smith, for next week's charity gala, should we reserve a ticket for Mrs. Emily Smith?"

"No need." James didn't look up, his eyes still fixed on the financial reports on his computer screen. "She's just throwing a tantrum lately. Don't bother with it."

The secretary acknowledged and left.

James irritably loosened his tie.

Two days now, and Emily hadn't called or sent a single message.

This had never happened before. He thought she would give in within a day at most.

Just then, his personal phone rang. It was a teacher from Erik's school.

"Hello, Mr. Smith, I'm Erik's homeroom teacher. Erik was made to stand in class today because he didn't bring his homework. He said Ms. Brown helped organize his backpack and might have missed it."

James's brow furrowed immediately. "I understand."

After hanging up, he immediately called Erik's phone watch. As soon as it connected, Erik's tearful voice came through: "Dad! I called Mom, but she won't answer! Tell her to come back and organize my backpack!"

"She didn't answer?"

"Dad, is Mom mad at us?" Erik shouted pitifully.

An inexplicable anger rose in James's chest. He hung up on Erik and directly dialed Emily's number. What came through the receiver was a cold system message.

"Hello, the number you have dialed is switched off."

She actually blocked his number?

For the first time, James felt a hint of irritation and loss of control. Was Emily serious this time?

Just as he was about to have his assistant call Emily home, Sophia's call came in, her voice pitiful.

"James, I lost Erik's homework book, and the teacher criticized me... I didn't mean to, I just wanted to help share your burden..."

James's irritation was instantly stirred up by the crying. He patiently comforted her: "It's fine, it's just a homework book. I'll handle it."

In the theater's rehearsal corridor, Emily had just finished practicing when a flashily dressed woman walked toward her. It was Hannah Nguyen, her former rival.

After Emily retired, the orchestra's principal position had fallen to her.

Hannah looked Emily up and down with contempt, her tone sharp and sarcastic. "Well, if it isn't Emily? What's wrong, got tired of being a rich wife and want to come back to experience life?"

The musicians around her joined in with low laughter.

"I heard you can't even handle your own son, fighting with a tutor for attention every day."

Hannah leaned in closer, her voice dropping even lower. "Emily, do you still think this is seven years ago? Your skills have been worn down by domestic life. You can't play like you used to."

Emily looked at her, her eyes completely calm. She said nothing, only raised her violin again.

Without looking at the sheet music, she placed the bow on the strings, and beautiful music poured forth.

Her performance, every note filled with power and soul, seemed to tell a story of suppression, struggle, destruction, and rebirth.

Everyone in the corridor was stunned. The mockery on Hannah's face froze, then turned deathly pale.

The technique she was so proud of seemed so weak and powerless before Emily's performance.

When the piece ended, Emily lowered her violin, her gaze calmly sweeping over Hannah. "My ability doesn't need your judgment."

Applause erupted after a brief silence.

The musicians who had been watching for drama now had only awe and admiration on their faces.

Steven had somehow appeared at the back of the crowd, his face flushed with excitement.

"Welcome back, our principal," he said sincerely.

Emily declined the welcome dinner Steven wanted to hold for her, and refused all social invitations.

She only wanted to devote all her time to preparing for the premiere performance.

That evening, James returned to the villa and for the first time felt the house was terrifyingly empty. He found himself walking into the master bedroom's walk-in closet. Emily's half was empty.

Except for a few old clothes he wouldn't let her throw away, all her belongings had disappeared.

Even the scent of her usual perfume seemed to have faded from the air.

All traces of her were being erased from this house bit by bit.

A ridiculous thought suddenly floated through James's mind—Emily was done with him. But immediately, he pushed that thought down.

There was no possibility of Emily being done with him.

As long as he still wanted her, she would definitely be there!