"But your pronunciation earlier was completely wrong. The correct way to say it is like this..."

Amy paused, then effortlessly repeated—in flawless, Parisian-accented French—the exact words Dominic had just used to mock her education.

Her voice was smooth as silk, each syllable perfectly enunciated, every word dripping with the kind of fluency only a native speaker could achieve.

The room went dead silent.

A moment ago, the audience had been chuckling along with Dominic, treating Amy as the butt of his joke. Now, their laughter evaporated, replaced by stunned expressions and uneasy glances.

Dominic's jaw clenched, his face flushing crimson before draining of color. No one had physically struck him, yet his cheeks burned as if he'd been slapped.

He had spent decades mastering languages, building his reputation as one of the most distinguished linguistics professors in the country. People addressed him as Professor Laurent with reverence.

When it came to academic translations and research, he was unmatched. But spoken fluency? That had always been his weak point—his accent rough, his delivery slightly stilted. Still, among amateurs, he could easily dominate any conversation.

Yet here he was, publicly humiliated by a woman who hadn't worked in years—a supposed housewife with no formal education beyond high school.

Desperately, Dominic searched for any flaw in her grammar, any hint of an accent. But no matter how many times he replayed her words in his mind, her French was impeccable.

How?

Wasn't Amy Sinclair just a stay-at-home mother? Hadn't she dropped out of school early? There was no way someone like her could speak with such effortless fluency.

Down in the audience, Liam stared at his mother in shock, his small hands gripping the edge of his seat.

He spoke three languages himself, French included. He had understood every word exchanged between Dominic and his mother. When the judges had whispered about cheating, even he had started to doubt her.

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined his mother—who, as far as he knew, had never studied French—could speak it so naturally. In fact, her accent was even smoother than his private tutor's.

Victoria and Nathan were equally stunned.

Nathan scowled, grasping for excuses. "She has to be cheating. Maybe someone's feeding her lines through an earpiece."

For once, Charlotte spoke up in Amy's defense. "Even if someone were prompting her, she couldn't replicate that level of fluency without prior knowledge. You can't fake pronunciation like that."

Victoria glanced at Alexander, lowering her voice. "Alexander... did you know Ms. Sinclair could speak French?"

Alexander didn't answer. His gaze remained fixed on his wife on stage, his expression unreadable.

He hadn't known she could play the violin.

He hadn't known she could speak French, either.

Nathan tried another theory. "Maybe she picked it up secretly when Liam's tutors were teaching him?"

After Liam began speaking, the Blackwoods had hired private instructors for him—multiple languages at once.

Alexander's voice was calm. "Maybe."

It was the only explanation that made sense.

Then, Liam spoke up, his voice small but firm. "What if... Mom always knew French?"

Everyone turned to look at him.

Nathan scoffed. "Impossible. She barely finished high school. There's no way she could've learned French."