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Chapter 10 - The Stage at Conservatoire de GenèveThree days later, the grand hall of the Conservatoire de Musique de Genève was filled to its five-hundred-seat capacity.

High vaulted ceilings, gilded balcony rails, and massive crystal chandeliers illuminated the stage, where an eighty-piece youth symphony orchestra sat tuning their instruments.

In the center of the front row sat Celeste Monroe, wearing a sleek velvet dress. Beside her sat Arthur Sterling, who had traveled to Geneva as an invited personal guest of the Monroe family, wearing a dark tuxedo.

The auditorium lights dimmed to a soft amber glow.

The conductor stepped onto the podium, bowed to the thunderous applause of the audience, and turned toward the stage wing.

Twelve-year-old Eliza Monroe walked onto the stage.

She wore her simple navy dress, her dark hair pinned back neatly, holding her 19th-century French violin in her left hand and her bow in her right. She walked with quiet, unhurried grace to the center of the stage, bowing politely to the crowd before nodding to the conductor.

The room fell into absolute, motionless silence.

The conductor raised his baton, and with a single, elegant downbeat, the orchestra swelled into the opening movement of Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto in E minor.

Four bars later, Eliza brought her bow to the strings.

The sound that poured from her instrument was extraordinary—rich, soaring, precise, and filled with a fierce, brilliant passion that echoed off the high marble walls of the conservatoire. She played with effortless mastery, her fingers flying across the fingerboard, her body moving in perfect harmony with the music.

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In the front row, Celeste Monroe felt a quiet tear trail down her cheek—a mother’s quiet pride in a daughter who had proven that true authority is never given, but built from within.

Beside her, Arthur Sterling watched the young girl who had saved his airline, listening to the music that soared high into the vaulted ceiling, far above the clouds, far above the sky, and far above Seat 1A.

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