Chapter 96

Natalia's clique kept taunting Evelyn.

"Fine! If you can perform a song right now and get a standing ovation from everyone here, we'll consider it your win! Not only will we apologize—we'll do whatever you ask!"

Evelyn remained unfazed. "Deal."

The ringleader smirked and added, "But if you butcher it and don't get unanimous approval, you'll crawl out of this room while we film it and post it online. Still in?"

Evelyn hesitated for a beat, then nodded. "Deal."

The girl scoffed. "Then what are you waiting for? Don't cry when you lose."

Evelyn turned, stepped onto the stage, and took the ukulele from Natalia.

Natalia feigned concern. "You should quit while you're ahead. Reputation matters—imagine crawling out of here in front of everyone."

Evelyn arched a brow. "How do you know I'll lose before I've even started?"

Natalia smirked. "The ukulele isn't easy. The fingerings are brutal. I'd hate for you to embarrass yourself."

"Thanks for the warning." Evelyn ignored her and tuned the instrument calmly before glancing up. "Weren't you supposed to sing and dance? Ready?"

Natalia barely suppressed a sneer. She hadn't actually wanted Evelyn to back out—she was dying to see the arrogant country girl humiliate herself.

After another insincere warning, Natalia positioned herself center stage, adjusting the mic. She had no intention of performing seriously. She was certain Evelyn would fail, forcing her to sing solo again.

As the crowd watched eagerly, Evelyn plucked the strings—but instead of music, a chaotic, grating noise erupted.

The audience winced.

"God, I thought she could actually play!"

"Where does she get the confidence? This is painful!"

"She's just hitting random strings! It's awful!"

"She's ruining Natalia's ukulele!"

Natalia and her friends stifled laughter. This was exactly what they wanted—Evelyn's reputation in tatters, the myth of the "perfect student" shattered.

Soon, they'd film her crawling out in disgrace.

Across the terrace, a group of strikingly attractive onlookers watched.

Benjamin burst out laughing. "Nathaniel, your wife's massacring that song! How embarrassing!"

Gabrielle smirked, eyes gleaming with contempt. Of course she'd fail. A country bumpkin could never grasp real artistry.

Harrison observed impassively.

Dominic sighed and slung an arm around Nathaniel's shoulders. "Looks like your bride's got no rhythm."

Nathaniel's lips curved slightly. "You think so?"

Dominic raised a brow. "What's there to doubt? She's butchering it!"

Then—abruptly—the discordant noise transformed into a smooth, mesmerizing melody.

Dominic whipped his head around, expecting someone else had taken over.

But no. It was still Evelyn, fingers dancing effortlessly over the strings.