The Hamburg Grand Hall Unconscious of her gesture, Valentina smoothed the skirt of her long deep purple silk jersey gown, her face glowed with rapture; her fingers involuntarily moved with the tempo of the sonata. With a sweeping motion of his arms and hands, the conductor brought the music to a finis. He glanced at her standing in the wings, nodded then tapped the stand with his baton. Valentina gracefully glided onto the stage. Her walk faltered for a spilt second as her eyes ranged over the people sitting in the first few rows of the concert hall. A shiver of apprehension tingled down her spine, "He's here again. I can feel his eyes on me. He scares me. Why is he here?" Her eyes became undisciplined; they spun to the right, directly into his black abyss eyes. With a super human effort she tore her gaze away to focus on the grand piano that waited for her. Valentina sucked in a deep breath, her mind whirled, focus on the music; forget everything else. The years of lessons, practice and performances took over. Even though she was just days from her twenty-sixth birthday and had been playing to the public for years, Valentina was an enigma. The press spread her reputation as an elusive, mysterious piano prodigy. The mystery that surrounded her made her all the more in demand by fans young and old.