Alpha's Discarded Luna (Talia) novel Chapter 95

Chapter 93

Talia’s POV

Electra grins at Robin, playful and warm. “What if she’s

beautiful and you’re not?”

Robin puffs up his small chest, utterly serious. “I’m a boy. Boys are supposed to be foils for beauty. The more beautiful

Ms. Perseus looks, the better my job is done.”

Electra laughs, genuine and bright. “No wonder Talia adores you. You’re precious.” She glances meaningfully toward the

others. “Unlike some people who, no matter how good you

are to them, always choose the ones who hurt them.”

Robin blinks, confused. “Why would anyone do that?”

Electra shrugs dramatically. “Maybe they prefer

mistreatment. Perhaps it’s a special hobby–masochism, I

think it’s called.”

Nick can’t contain himself. “Capture your first place? You mean last place, right?” He sneers, loud enough for everyone to hear. “A housewife who spends her days cooking and

cleaning thinks she can compete with Imema? Delusional.“4:43

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Electra doesn’t even look at him directly. She shoots

him a sideways glance, eyebrows raised. “What’s wrong

with you? Do you have any idea what Talia has actually

accomplished?”

Nick bursts out laughing, tears forming at the corners of

his eyes. “This is hilarious! Don’t tell me she’s secretly some

famous virtuoso in hiding? Have you been reading too many

romance novels?”

Electra’s face flushes with anger. She starts toward him-

I catch her arm. “Electra. The performance is about to start.

Don’t let him distract us.”

She seethes but stops. “What is wrong with him?”

I answer calmly, “Perhaps he’s caught whatever terminal illness is going around. Seems to be contagious.”

Electra immediately steps back, pretending terror. “I

should keep my distance. Wouldn’t want him blaming me if

something happens.” She ushers us forward. “Come on, Talia,

Robin. We have a show to do.”

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Raymond smiles pleasantly at the group. “If you’ll excuse us. And do remember to buy glasses on your way home.”

We walk toward the stage.

Behind us, Nick mutters under his breath, “Tch. Who does he

think he is?”

I don’t look back. Their opinions don’t matter anymore. What

matters is the small hand in mine, the stage ahead, the music

waiting to be played.

For the first time in years, I’m about to perform. Not as

someone’s wife, not as someone’s mother. Just as myself.

It feels like coming home.

Imema’s POV

I watch Talia walk away, that white dress swaying with each step, and something twists in my chest. She looks… confident. Poised. Nothing like the housewife I’ve dismissed for months.

“Aires.” I keep my voice light, curious. “Does Talia actually

know how to play? I’ve never heard you mention it.”

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Aires shakes his head, his gaze still fixed on her retreating

figure. “No idea. Never seen her touch a piano.”

Aeson pipes up, eager to contribute. “I saw Mom reading

music scores at home once. A long time ago.”

I turn to him, interest flickering. “Music scores? Did she ever talk about playing?”

Aeson pauses, thinking. “She talked about Grandma once. She said Grandma was a really famous pianist.”

Grandma. Serena Jackson. The pieces click together in my mind–the piano shop, the Di Lian, Talia’s claim that it belonged to her mother. Serena Jackson was legendary. A

true virtuoso, celebrated worldwide, until her tragic early

death. Her compositions are still taught in conservatories.

Her name still commands respect.

And Talia is her daughter.

Nick shrugs, unimpressed. “So her mother was talented. That

doesn’t mean she is. Aires and Aeson both say they’ve never

seen her practice. How good could she possibly be?”

He’s right. Success requires discipline, daily effort. Even when

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I’m ill, I push through, I practice, I maintain my skill. Talia has been playing housewife for years–cooking, cleaning, chasing after children. She hasn’t touched her piano in half a decade.

There’s no way she can compete with me.

Nick notices my troubled expression and pats my shoulder

reassuringly. “Imema, you’ve practiced tirelessly even when

you were unwell. Talia hasn’t played in years. She can’t

outperform you. Stop worrying.”

He’s right. I know he’s right.

Still…

I turn to Aires. “Aires, has Talia agreed to lend me the piano?

The Di Lian?”

Nick’s eyebrows shoot up. “piano? What piano?”

I explain briefly–the shop, the instrument, Talia’s connection to Serena Jackson. Aires’s expression tightens. He’d nearly forgotten about the whole incident. With everything Talia has stirred up recently, the piano seems trivial.

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After a long pause, he speaks. “Imema. Choose another

instrument.”

I stare at him, disbelief flooding through me.

Since I returned, Aires has never refused me anything. Not

the villa, not the wedding theme, not his time or attention. He

gave me everything I asked for without hesitation.

Now this?

He’s pulling away. The distance I’ve felt since that incident at the kindergarten is real. Robin’s interruption bought me time, but Aires isn’t stupid. He’s questioning, doubting my words.

Nick objects immediately, voice rising. “The Di Lian is wasted on Talia! You should give it to Imema. She’s still your wife- what’s hers is yours. And Imema doesn’t have much time left.” He glances at me, all righteous indignation. “You know she’s always admired Serena Jackson. Her dream is to perform with that piano, just once. She’s only borrowing it! Why is Talia being so selfish?”

He warms to his argument, pacing slightly.

“Talia wants money, right? We’ll pay her. She left Aeson for

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money… a million dollars and she’ll hand over that piano

happily. Simple.”

Aires’s expression shifts. Money, yes!

Talia has brought up money repeatedly. The divorce

settlement, the negotiations, the constant references to

compensation. She’s made her priorities clear.

I watch his face, reading the calculation behind his eyes.

“Aires.” My voice softens, pleading without demanding. “I’m not asking to keep it. Just to borrow it. For my concert. My last

concert.”

I let my eyes glisten. Aires looks at me.

“I’ll talk to her.”

He has to talk to her now, negotiate and persuade her. It used to be simple: he’d tell her what to do, and she’d do it.

Everything is changing, and I don’t like it.

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