Chapter 1

For five years, Leon Flores kept me caged, making me dutifully play the part of a substitute for the woman he truly loved, Madeline Evans.

He threw money at me until I became the chief violinist, and I obediently stayed in that gilded cage, being his golden songbird.

But the night Madeline came back, I tore up that sham contract and burned it to ashes.

"Mr. Flores, I'm done with this stand-in charade," I said.

He chuckled, lifting his eyelids to toss me a dismissive glance. "Without me, you wouldn't even have what it takes to play for spare change on the street."

I dropped the sweet persona I'd been faking for years and threw myself into an underground band, making wild, genre-blending electronic music that broke all the rules.

Later, I snagged an international gold medal with a performance that turned the classical music scene on its head. And as I stood on stage, I caught Leon in the audience, his eyes rimmed red with emotion as he watched me.

*****

As I finished the last note, the packed hall erupted in applause.

"Joanna, you played so well," Madeline said. She stood up from the seat of honor and walked over to me, smiling.

Today was Madeline's first time back in the country after five years, and Leon had thrown this party for her.

"This one is difficult, and you played it perfectly," Madeline continued.

I kept my head down, quietly hugging my violin. "That's very kind of you, Ms. Evans. It's all thanks to Mr. Flores for making me practice."

"Leon always worries about everything," Madeline smiled and glanced back at Leon.

Leon was sitting right in the center of the sofa, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

I looked over. The face that once made me lose my mind wasn't even glancing at me.

His eyes were locked on Madeline, soft and focused in a way I'd never seen before.

A sharp pain stabbed through my chest, making it hard to breathe.

Leon called out to me, his voice calm and emotionless, "Come here."

Clutching my violin, I gathered up my dress and walked over. Every movement of mine was mirroring Madeline's grace.

For the past five years, I'd been learning to walk like her, smile like her, even mimic the way she tilted her head while playing the violin.

Leon went so far as to hire instructors for me, demanding that every detail be perfected, leaving no room for flaws.

Even the gown I wore tonight was a faithful recreation of Madeline's iconic look from the celebration after her solo performance at the Hall of Golden Echoes five years ago.

Leon had the dress delivered to me, and the matching jewelry was chosen to mirror hers down to the last detail.

Leon swirled his glass and said softly, "Maddie wants to hear the piece you played for your school audition, the Summer from Four Seasons. Do you still remember it?"

I couldn't help but pause for a second.

That was Madeline's own audition piece, the breakthrough performance that launched her career.

But the version I knew best was the one Leon treasured in his study, a videotape he kept hidden away.

It showed Madeline at seventeen, wearing her school uniform skirt, playing in a rundown practice room with sunlight pouring over her, so beautiful that it felt almost unreal.

Sometimes, when Leon was drunk, he'd take out that tape, watch it, and say to me, "Maddie's bowing is light. You're pressing too hard."

So, I kept practicing, mimicking Madeline again and again, until I became more and more like her in every way.

"Mr. Flores, I haven't played that piece in ages," I mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

"Then do it now. Maddie wants to hear it." Leon's voice was cold and left no room to refuse.

Madeline had already settled back beside him, leaning in close to whisper something in his ear that made Leon laugh quietly.

The way they acted so naturally close stung my eyes.

The hall went quiet.

Everyone's eyes were on me, waiting to see the knockoff make a mess of imitating the real one.

I raised my violin again, but missed the very first note.

My fingers felt stiff and refused to move, and all I could see in my mind was that old videotape, looping endlessly.

There was Madeline, bold, vibrant, and young, and Leon watching her on that screen with a softness in his eyes that didn't belong to him.

For five years, I'd dressed like Madeline, worn my hair like hers, played the same pieces she did, living every day as her shadow.

I kept desperately searching Leon's eyes for a hint of approval, but all I ever got was that cold, familiar line: "You're nothing like her."

Five years, and Madeline was still the only one he could see.

Now that she was back, even my right to pretend was being taken away.

My playing was shaky and awkward, and every so often, mocking laughter drifted up from the audience.

"Stop." Leon cut in, his voice flat and impatient. "You're not feeling up to it today. You'll mess up Maddie's night."

He looked at me like I was some defective item on display, barely worth a second glance.

But when he turned back to Madeline, a smile was already playing on his lips. "Not today. Let her play for you some other time."

Madeline nodded, her voice gentle. "Joanna's probably worn out. Leon, go easy on her, okay?"

Leon let out a soft chuckle, his eyes settling back on me for a moment. "Since you're tired, go home and rest early. Maddie and I need to meet with some industry veterans."

He said it so casually, not even bothering to spare me another glance.

I put my violin away, whispered a soft "Okay," and turned to leave the hall.

Behind me, Madeline's gentle murmurs and Leon's warm laughter kept echoing, so I hurried my steps to get out of there.

The driver dropped me off at the lobby of the apartment building.

The luxurious penthouse in the heart of the city was a gift from Leon.

But truth be told, it felt more like a gilded cage he'd crafted for me.

It was supposed to be my home, but a giant portrait of Madeline hung on the wall.

Every violin in the music room was a custom-made replica of the ones Madeline played.

Even the bedroom was filled with the citrus and oak fragrance Madeline loved.

I'd lived here for five years, always as another woman's shadow.

Leon gave me the finest teachers, the most exquisite violins money could buy, and a life of pure luxury, but he also made sure I was never truly accepted.

Leon always said, "You may look like her, but you'll never be her."