Chapter 32

The Winston Group indeed owned an entertainment company.

Though modest in scale, it had earned considerable prestige within the industry.

As the heir, Ethan Winston rarely involved himself in its day-to-day operations.

Yet he understood the industry's unspoken rules all too well.

Sophia wanted to enter the entertainment world?

When had she become so ruthlessly ambitious?

Meeting a director in secret?

At an exclusive members-only club, no less?

What exactly were they discussing?

His frown deepened with each thought.

He knew how striking Sophia's beauty was. Talent agencies would be lining up to sign her.

But had she considered the perils awaiting an unconnected newcomer in that cutthroat arena?

Isabella Evans observed Ethan's darkening expression, her lips curling imperceptibly.

If Sophia was willing to degrade herself for fame, she wasn't even worth the effort of eliminating.

Such opponents didn't deserve her attention.

"Ethan, we should go in. Your parents have been waiting..."

He snapped back to reality with a terse nod.

Arm in arm, they proceeded toward the private dining room.

But Ethan's steps were noticeably heavier than before.

Meanwhile, Sophia stood before the reserved suite, rapping lightly on the door.

Inside, Director Lucas Sheridan paused his discussion with an assistant.

The aide hurried to answer.

At 38, the acclaimed director of "We Are Singers" was renowned for his discerning eye.

When he saw the young woman at the threshold, his words died in his throat.

She wore a simple white tee and jeans, her hair in a high ponytail.

Porcelain skin.

And those eyes—luminous pools reflecting starlight.

"Young lady, are you... lost?"

A knowing smile touched her lips. "Director Sheridan, I'm exactly who you're expecting."

Her research had been thorough. She recognized him instantly.

His eyes widened. "You're... Composer T?"

"Just a pseudonym."

She extended her hand gracefully. "Sophia Laurent."

Lucas was rendered speechless.

Five years ago, a mysterious composer known only as "T" had emerged.

Initially overlooked, every artist who performed T's compositions skyrocketed to fame.

Especially Adrian Valentine, whose career was launched overnight by a single T-penned hit.

Soon, "T" became the industry's golden standard.

From legends to rising stars, everyone coveted T's songs.

The uncanny part? Every composition became a chart-topping phenomenon.

Thus, the industry bestowed the reverent title: Composer T.

Yet T's identity remained an enigma.

Some speculated a retired music maestro. Others imagined an elderly virtuoso.

Never in Lucas' wildest dreams had he imagined Composer T would be a woman in her early twenties.