Chapter 8 No Need to Fulfill Your Dying Wish

William was in on it too.

"Do they know it's me?" Amelia asked one more question.

She didn't say it outright, but she was really asking if Isabella knew "Quiana" was actually her. She didn't need to explain. Jeffrey understood.

"No," Jeffrey answered immediately. "I'm certain of that."

Amelia fell silent.

Cars rushed past on the street beside her. She watched the clouds slowly moving across the sky, and then she made a decision.

First, she called her doctor and rescheduled her appointment for the afternoon.

Then she told Jeffrey she was coming over right now.

"Okay. Get here as soon as you can," he replied.

After hanging up, Amelia turned her car around. She made a quick stop to pick up a few things, then drove straight to Adams Group.

Once she parked, she put on a hat, sunglasses, and a mask before heading inside.

When the elevator doors slid open, Amelia stepped into the office in her low heels.

"Quiana, you're here." Jeffrey was the first to see Amelia.

He raised an eyebrow at her disguise but kept his composure. He guided her in and seated her at one end of the long conference table.

Sitting across the table were William and Isabella.

Seeing her walk in, Isabella immediately stood up.

"Hello Quiana, I'm Isabella. I don't know if you've heard of me." Isabella smiled weakly, looking pitiful. "I really want to buy your song. I hope you can sell it to me."

Amelia didn’t answer right away. She glanced at William.

He wasn’t even looking at her. All his attention was on Isabella.

Jeffrey sat beside Amelia. Hearing Isabella, he cut in, "Ms. Taylor, Quiana doesn't plan to sell this song. I've told you this before." Jeffrey said.

But Isabella ignored Jeffrey and looked at Amelia with reddened eyes.

"But Quiana, I really love this song," she said, then suddenly frowned, as if enduring some kind of pain.

William frowned beside her, concern written all over his face.

But Isabella just shook her head "bravely" and continued looking at Amelia.

"Quiana, I only have six months left to live. I hope you’ll let me have it. Just think of it as granting my dying wish, okay?”

Amelia heard this and let out a soft laugh.

Another "dying wish."

When William asked for a divorce, he said Isabella’s dying wish was to marry him. Now there was a new item on the list.

Amelia respected that illness and death were serious. But somehow, she was always the one paying the price.

And she wasn’t about to honor the woman who wrecked her marriage.

Was she being punished just because she wasn’t dying in six months?

"What if I say I'm not willing?" The thought made her voice drop, rough with anger.

Isabella was stunned.

"Ms. Taylor, I've heard about your situation." Amelia continued in a lowered voice. "You've caused quite a stir online these past few days . But whether I sell the song is my business. I have no obligation to fulfill your 'dying wish,' and I also don't understand what you want to use this song for."

Amelia paused for three seconds, then added, “Are you planning to post it to your account? Or use it as your funeral march?”

"You!" Isabella was so furious she broke into a violent coughing fit.

William patted her back to help her breathe, shooting Amelia a look of disapproval.

It was the first time he’d looked at her since she walked in.

"Quiana, don't you think you're being too much?" William said coldly with a frown.

His brows were tightly knit, his eyes sharp.

His lips pressed into a thin line. That familiar face of his was full of disapproval.

Amelia studied him.

He had changed his clothes, not wearing yesterday's outfit.

It looked like one of the outfits she’d picked out for him in the walk-in closet at their villa.

So he had been back to their marital home.

He had to know she’d moved out.

But he just didn't care at all.

Fine.

Amelia steadied herself, her gaze dropping behind her sunglasses so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes.

“I think forcing someone to sell is worse,” she said. “If you’re going to do that, be ready for some harsh words.”

William frowned even more, looking at her with greater displeasure.

“William, let me handle this.” Before William could speak again, Isabella spoke up considerately.

The office lighting was warm, but Isabella's white Celine suit still made her look pale.

"Quiana, I really love this song,” Isabella said, glancing at William. “It resonates with me. It captures everything I feel about loving someone I can’t have. Passionate, secret, and a little insecure. The giving in a relationship, the joy you get, and…”

Her eyes dimmed. “The deep despair of knowing your days are numbered. The kind of despair that seeps into your bones.”

“Quiana, that despair once broke me. It made me want to die. But what moves me most about this song is the letting go at the end. Like me now, accepting everything, making peace with it, living quietly through my last days.”

Isabella spoke softly, her voice trembling one moment and calm the next, like someone who’d survived real hardship. It was the kind of performance that made people pity her.

William, sitting beside her, was proof it worked.

Amelia saw it. When Isabella talked about her despair, there was genuine heartache in William’s eyes.

This was something she had never seen in his eyes before.

Her seven years with Amelia couldn't compare to Isabella's less than one year by his side.

Amelia watched them. They looked like a devoted couple who’d weathered pain together.

Too bad she was the legal wife.

She was unmovable.

Talk about bad timing!

"Quiana, this song perfectly expresses all my recent experiences. I,” Isabella continued. “I really understand how you felt writing it. I think you’d want someone who truly gets it to buy the song, right?”

She seemed convinced that having said all this, Amelia would surely agree to sell her the song.

After all, if the song was going to be sold anyway, selling it to someone who understood it would indeed be best.

But too bad for her.

Amelia suddenly felt like laughing.

Because this song was about her loving the wrong person. About being betrayed.

It was about falling for William, the joy of their marriage, the despair of discovering his affair, and finally, letting go.

The touching love story Isabella was using to persuade her was built on Amelia’s pain.

How ironic.

Thinking this, Amelia couldn't help but laugh out loud.

William's eyes narrowed.

"Quiana, the fact that Isabella could see this song means you originally intended to sell it."

His voice was cold and calm, like the countless proposals he had handled, striking at the heart of the matter.

“Now you’re refusing to sell. That means you’re either unhappy with the buyer, or unhappy with the price.”

William looked directly at Amelia's eyes, but all he could see were the dark sunglasses.

“Famous songwriters charge hundreds of thousands. Top-tier copyrights can earn tens of millions a year. Ten million dollars,” William said. “I think you should be satisfied with that number.”

But Amelia just laughed.

Ten million dollars. That was flattering.

“Quiana” was still virtually unknown. A few hundred thousand would already be a steep asking price.

William offered ten million dollars for Isabella's sake.

Amelia laughed so hard tears were about to fall.

Isabella looked baffled, then irritated.

“Quiana, that’s already a very high offer,” she said. “There’s a music competition show called Voice of Heaven that you’ve probably heard of. I’m planning to use this as my main song on the show. I think—”

Isabella was still talking when Jeffrey, standing beside them, could no longer take it.He slammed the table and stood up. “We said we’re not selling. William, don’t push it.”

William remained seated. He looked coldly at Jeffrey. Even sitting down, his presence was overpowering.

Amelia wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes and tugged at Jeffrey's sleeve.

"I'll sell," Amelia said.

"Voice of Heaven" was the very show Amelia was about to participate in.