Chapter 457
Ramona casually tossed her long, golden curls over her shoulder and met Jonathan’s gaze head-on, her eyes burning with fierce determination.
Jonathan fell silent.
Compared to Marina as she was now, Ramona was undoubtedly the better pianist.
At least in terms of technical skill, Ramona had reached a level of mastery that few could match. After all, Carlotta-her adoptive mother-was a renowned concert pianist herself. Even though Ramona had only recently joined the family, with proper training and enough time, she might well reach Carlotta’s heights.
But…
A melody surfaced in Jonathan’s memory.
It was a Chopin nocturne, but not the one Ramona played.
No, it was Marina’s-the way she used to play it back at the Juvenile
Rehabilitation Center.
There was no grand piano in that place. Just an aging electric keyboard, battered and secondhand, meant to give troubled teenagers an outlet, something to soothe their restless spirits.
That was the first time in Jonathan’s life he’d ever heard music so beautiful.
The sound lingered in his mind, unforgettable.
He closed his eyes without realizing it.
It was that melody, drifting through the halls, that had led him to his Rina.
People might change with time, but the music they create…
That never changes.
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Chapter 457
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At that very moment, Niamh was on her way to The Purring Bean café when she passed a music store. In the window stood a striking black grand piano that stopped her in her tracks.
How long had it been since she last played?
If she didn’t count the organ, she hadn’t touched a piano since the day Elmer’s life unraveled.
Her fingers itched with longing.
For the longest time, she’d avoided the piano, weighed down by guilt and self-reproach over Elmer. But now…
A smile broke across her face. Niamh checked the time on her phone. She still had a few minutes to spare, so she stepped inside.
Dressed in her usual work attire-a sharp black pantsuit-she looked every bit the corporate professional, worlds away from anything artistic.
Still, an eager employee approached her. “Looking for anything in particular today?”
“Would it be alright if I try out that grand piano?” she asked.
“Of course,” the clerk replied.
With permission granted, Niamh slipped off her blazer and settled onto the piano bench.
Without a second thought, her fingers found the keys, and she began to play a Chopin nocturne-her favorite, and the piece she knew best.
Her pale, graceful hands danced over the black and white keys, flooding the shop with a cascade of elegant, haunting notes.
Niamh lost herself in the music, all her worries melting away as she drifted in that familiar ocean of sound.
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For the first time in ages, she felt like herself again.
She was that girl who lived and breathed music, who poured her heart into every note.
When the final chord faded, Niamh let out a sheepish laugh.
She was rusty-her hands didn’t move quite the way they used to.
A quiet sigh escaped her. Some things, she realized, were lost to the past. Her old loves-whether people or passions-could never truly return.
Feeling a pang of nostalgia, Niamh rose to her feet.
Only then did she notice the crowd that had gathered behind her, erupting into thunderous applause.
Niamh stared at them in disbelief.
“Ma’am, that was incredible!”
“Are you a professional pianist?”
“She plays better than my department chair!”
“Your department chair? Please. I think she’s even better than Linden
Sinclair!”
That last comment almost made Niamh laugh out loud.
She knew the truth: Linden would have agreed with them.
But Niamh couldn’t accept such praise.
When it came to technique and artistry, Linden was in a league of her own-there was a reason people called her the brightest star in the world of piano.
Of course, it didn’t hurt that Linden had the kind of face everyone adored.
