Chapter 470 Performance
The dance troupe's debut was at the Miracalia Grand Theater, with online promos starting two weeks ahead.
The buzz was huge, and tickets sold out fast.
Lillian felt guilty about the troupe. Yesterday, in Ambrose's office, he agreed to keep her secret, and she didn't know how to thank him.
Ambrose said, "Nail the first performance. That's the best way to show gratitude."
Lillian was determined to give it her all today, to thank Ambrose, the troupe, and honor her years of hard work.
But once on stage, she forgot all that. She just enjoyed the moment she had worked so hard for.
Under the spotlight, she was the center of everyone's attention. As she danced gracefully, her toes barely touched the ground, her body a whirl of fluid motion. Her slightly protruding belly, far from constraining her, seemed to enhance her beauty.
Her dance radiated vitality, a vivid expression of freedom and passion. It perfectly captured the evolution of a character in the play—a pregnant woman trapped in a hopeless marriage, transitioning from confused infatuation to a liberated state of self-discovery.
Jackson watched the figure illuminated by the spotlight, his eyes burning with intensity. He had always known that his Lilian was beautiful, and he was aware that she danced beautifully. But he hadn't anticipated she could be this stunning. Even with her pregnancy, her limbs and waist remained slender, and her bump only seemed to add to her mature elegance.
Yet, with every leap and spin, Jackson felt a pang of anxiety, his lips pressed into a tight line.
"Jackson, Lilian's performance was incredible! Look at all those dancers on stage, but everyone's eyes are on Lilian." Star's voice broke through his focus.
Jackson reluctantly pulled his gaze from the stage, glancing around. Seeing the truth in Star's words, he clenched his fists, struggling with the urge to jump up, storm the stage, and whisk that delicate figure away.
His brow furrowed as he checked his watch. There were still over twenty minutes left in the ninety-minute performance with no intermission. Time suddenly seemed to stretch endlessly.
Jackson noticed Star was looking off. Her face was pale, and her forehead was damp with sweat. She looked uneasy.
"What's wrong?"
Star shook her head weakly, forcing a smile. "It's nothing. You keep watching the show."
Jackson's gaze dropped to Star's right hand, which she was hiding behind her back. Her shoulder was tense and stiff. He reached out, pulling her hand into view, and his face darkened.
Her hand was a bloody mess, her fingers battered and raw.
"I'm sorry," Star said, her voice trembling. "My injury just flared up suddenly. I didn't want to disturb you or ruin everyone's experience."
She tried to retract her hand, using her left hand to soothe the injured fingers, her face ghostly pale. She bit her lip, trying not to make a sound. "I'm okay. I can hold on."
Jackson grabbed Star's arm firmly, guiding her to her feet and hurrying toward the exit. Their abrupt movement from their prime seats in the packed theater drew a lot of attention.
From the stage, the actors had a clear view of the commotion. As Lilian spun around, she cast a glance towards the audience but did not let it interrupt her performance. She danced with even more intensity, completely absorbed in her role.
The show concluded with thunderous applause. Lilian descended from the stage, where Ambrose awaited her with a bouquet. Dressed in a tailored plaid suit, he exuded a refined and dignified air.
He handed the bouquet to Lilian with a gentle smile. "Congratulations on a great performance."
"Mr. Kelly, it's not just Lilian who performed," someone joked, "Isn't it a bit obvious you're showing favoritism?"
"Yeah, out of five leads, just one bouquet?" another dancer chimed in.
Lilian looked flustered, glancing between the flowers and the teasing colleagues.
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