For the rest of the day, I tore my studio apart.
Chairs overturned, drawers yanked open, papers scattered like broken wings. I ripped through every corner, every shelf, as if the walls themselves were hiding secrets.
There had to be something. A camera. A recorder. Anything.
How else could my music have been stolen? How else could she have taken what was mine?
I searched until my hands shook, until sweat clung to my skin. I even brought out a metal detector, waving it across the floor, the walls, the instruments, desperate for the faintest beep, the smallest clue.
But there was nothing.
No wires. No devices. No evidence.
The studio was as clean as a grave.
I had made a little money so I ordered the new equipment, taking the old ones out. I called my assistant, Becky who helped with the arrangement of the new studio equipment.
I will never let the mistake of my past life repeat itself. If not anything, I will make sure I find the thief and bring justice to my old self.
"It is all done. Please come see your studio." I walked calmly behind Becky and was in awe of everything in there. It looked so beautiful and breathtaking.
"We can start arranging the plaques and trophies in..."
"No," I said almost immediately.
"Send the plaques and trophies over to Mr. Orchard's office. He'll make better use of them. I don't need them," I said softly, keeping my tone calm as I walked over to a chair.
Becky froze, staring at me with her mouth open.
"Are you sure, Mrs. Orchard?"
I nodded with a small smile. "Yes. A thousand and one percent sure."
She blinked, like she had something more to say but didn't want to upset me. Aside from being my assistant, Becky was almost like a friend. She knew how to read me in ways others couldn't.
"Miss Maeve… h-how are you able to cope with all the rumors? And with Mr. Orchard?" She lowered her voice when she said his name.
It had only been a day since we got married, and there were already rumors flying around that we were divorced.
It wasn't supposed to be out yet and I know who must have released those headlines
I leaned back in my chair. "Everything you've read is true, Becky." I smiled.
"Fred and I… we're already divorced and will be announcing it soon."
Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. Everyone knew how obsessed I had been with Fred Orchard. I had humiliated myself publicly for his attention. I fought girls online for him. I confessed my feelings in front of the world. I even begged him to be my husband.
Some people mocked me for it, but others applauded my boldness. Either way, I didn't care. At that time, all I wanted was him. And somehow, I got my wish.
So now, the news that I was leaving him shocked everyone. My fans were in uproar. They couldn't believe it. After all, Fred and I had been painted as the perfect couple. The internet called us the next Beyoncé and Jay-Z. I was the rising star with the golden voice, and he was the powerful label owner.
We were supposed to be untouchable. A match made in heaven.
But that was the old story. That was my past life.
The truth? Fred had killed me long before the world thought I was dead. He gave away my place, my dreams, to a newer artist who stole all my songs. And when I complained, he silenced me.
"Being my wife is enough Eve," he told me. "You don't need anything else. Let her shine, it's her turn."
I had no idea who the faceless thief was, but I listened. I obeyed. That obedience destroyed me. That was how I died.
But this time, things are different. I would find out who she is and destroy her.
★★★★
"You asked for her to be investigated further, Mr. Grey, and here you have it." The maid's voice trembled as she clutched the phone, reading his assistant's message from his cellphone.
"The news about your scandal is all over the net. It seems… It's not the first time she's been accused of such."
Clayton swirled the last drop of wine across his tongue before setting the glass aside. Then, without hurry, he rose from the tub.
Water streamed down his chest in thin, glistening trails, catching on every hard line of muscle. Droplets slid lower, dripping from his waist, hitting the marble floor like the ticking of a clock. He didn't bother reaching for a towel.
The maid's throat bobbed as she swallowed. Her cheeks burned red, but she didn't dare look away. She was both frightened and… spellbound.
Her master was like a sculpture. A sculpture even the best crafter cannot craft.
Clayton's gaze shifted to her, cool and sharp. "What else is written there?" His voice was calm, deep, and commanding, the kind that left no room for hesitation.
Her knees almost gave way. She gripped the phone tighter, fingers trembling as if the device weighed a ton.
"S... She's trouble. A woman who begs men for attention..."
"Hmm." He hummed with a smile. "So... She's a chaser..." He dawdled. "I would love to be chased."
"She has a bad reputation." The maid continued.
"You cannot be seen with such a woman Mr Grey, she's a whore, that's how she got to fame. And most especially she's your nephew's wife. It's going to cause a commotion."
"Hmm... Is that all?" Clayton asked finally wrapping a towel around his waist and the maid continued reading.
"She's an artist, one of the rising stars of our time but her name trends for scandal rather than music these days." She read.
"She has a sister and is an orphan. It seems she's been with your nephew for a really long time. They... Are... Inseparable..." The maid read.
"But Master Grey, why are you suddenly interested in that woman. There are many other women to want."