Chapter 2

I rummaged through and found an old, dust-covered folder.

Inside was the Artist Sponsorship and Development Contract, meant to last five years.

At the bottom, Leon's bold, dramatic signature stood out next to my own shaky, youthful scrawl from when I was eighteen: Joanna Rivers.

The terms were crystal clear: [Leon would pay for everything, including Joanna's music training, her living expenses, and even set up gigs for her.

[In exchange, Joanna has to go along with whatever artistic plans Leon has for her, including how she looks, what kind of music she plays, and how she presents herself to the public.

[And for five years, Joanna couldn't take any other sponsorships or sign with anyone else unless Leon says so.]

Basically, he owned my music for five years, all so he could turn me into his version of Madeline.

I took out the violin I played the most from its case, a replica of the legendary instrument Madeline got for her eighteenth birthday.

When Leon handed it to me, he said, "With this violin, you'll become even more like her."

I let out a mocking laugh, but my tears fell uncontrollably, soaking the violin.

I set the contract ablaze, then seized the violin and hurled it with all my strength against the wall.

The wooden violin splintered apart instantly.

I smashed it over and over, until all that remained was a mess of shattered wood and tangled strings.

Gasping for breath, I found myself laughing and sobbing uncontrollably.

From this moment on, I was done being anyone's shadow. I wanted to be the real Joanna Rivers.

After packing everything up, I sat in the living room, lost and motionless, until two in the morning, the fingerprint lock beeped, and Leon appeared at the door, looking like he'd rushed in from a long night.

He carried the scent of alcohol and Madeline's distinctive perfume. When he saw me, he paused, stunned.

The living room was a complete mess. All my belongings were stuffed into a single suitcase, along with the last remaining violin.

He glanced around the wrecked living room, and in the end, his eyes fell on the suitcase by my side. His brows furrowed. "What are you doing?"

"Mr. Flores, I'm ending our contract on my own terms." I took out the apartment key card and the black-and-gold card he gave me, placing them on the table. "These are yours.

"I left everything you bought for the apartment untouched. You can have Thomas deal with the rest."

Leon stared at me, and for a split second, those eyes that never showed warmth for me actually flickered with surprise.

My nose prickled with emotion.

Would Leon really care if I left? No way.

Almost as if to remind me how foolish I was, the next second, Leon slipped right back into his usual condescending, mocking expression.

He strode over and seized my face. "You want to terminate the contract, huh? Joanna, do you even realize what you're saying? If you walk out of here, throw away everything I've arranged for you, you will never last in the music world."

He burst out laughing, as if he'd heard the most absurd thing imaginable. "Without my resources, you wouldn't even make it through the first round of auditions for a real orchestra."

Leon always knew how to hit me where it hurt most, with ruthless precision, digging right into the inferiority I tried so hard to hide.

I lifted my head, locking eyes with those eyes I once drowned in. "Mr. Flores, thanks for everything these past five years. But living as someone else's shadow gets exhausting.

"Don't worry. The contract is already burned. Whatever happens to me from now on has nothing to do with you."

He let go, and I stepped away from him, snatched up my suitcase, and headed straight for the door.

"Joanna, if you walk out that door, don't bother crawling back to me for help. Without me, you're nothing." Leon's voice was low and cold, almost threatening.

He used to be the only light I could hold onto when my life was falling apart, but in the end, he became the very reason I was dragged into an even deeper darkness.

I loved him, I hated him, but what I hated most was how I made myself nothing, groveling for every bit of his affection, to feel like I mattered.

I didn't look back. I opened the door and walked out.

Rain had started falling outside, and I had no idea where I was going.

The city was huge, but there was no place for me to call home.

My parents were gone, my relatives had drifted away, and everyone from my past, old friends and classmates, had faded away after five years spent in Leon's world.

I let out a sigh, dragging my suitcase and violin case as I walked deeper into the unknown.

Up in the penthouse, a figure stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, unmoving for what felt like forever.

Leon had no clue how long he'd been there, staring out at the city.

He watched the silhouette below, getting smaller in the pouring rain, and a weird frustration started bubbling up inside him.

Suddenly, he raised his hand and smashed the empty glass against the marble floor.

The rain poured all night, and I ended up sitting in a 24/7 convenience store until sunrise.

I went through my contacts from top to bottom, but there wasn't a single person I could reach out to.

This was what Leon left me, a beautiful prison, and once I stepped out, nothing but emptiness was waiting for me.

By morning, I lugged my suitcase over to my old music professor's place.

Clinging to my last shred of hope, I knocked on his door.

The door opened a crack, and Professor Larsen was clearly caught off guard when he saw me.

I barely got a word out before he cut me off.

He hesitated and then said, "Joanna, it's not that I don't want to help you, but Mr. Flores has already warned us. No one in the music world would risk taking you in."

He sighed, keeping a safe distance, clearly more concerned about his own reputation than me.

"Let me give you some advice. Go back and make things right with Mr. Flores. Don't be so headstrong. It's not worth it," he added.

The door closed, sealing off whatever hollow concern he had left for me.

For the next three days, I wandered the city like a lost soul, crashing into every corner, desperate for a way out.

I went to audition for a symphony orchestra, but as soon as they heard I'd worked under Leon, the HR shoved my resume right back at me.

I tried landing a hotel gig, but since I didn't even own a dress good enough for the stage, they cut me from the audition before I could even play a note.

I didn't bring a single stage outfit or accessory Leon had ever bought me.