After dropping the call with Frank's agent Victor, Robert collapsed into his chair before springing back up and making a call.

"Send Misha up now," he said, cutting the call immediately.

He waited for a while before Misha walked in.

"Uncle Robert, what has you this worried? You look to have aged."

He looked at his niece, whom he had raised after her parents died.

"Misha, come sit down."

Misha looked visibly worried, far from the cold look she always gave when around others. She took her chair and sat by his side.

Seeing this, Robert smiled knowingly and said, "It's about that boy you're trying to sign."

"Oh, you mean JD?"

Misha asked as she remembered telling her assistant to try to sign him. At first, she thought he was good, but as time went on, she understood he was beyond good, so she started pulling resources to try to get JD.

"Yeah, someone else has eyes on him, so we should leave him.

Misha looked a bit surprised, but she knew that for her uncle to call her and tell her this meant it had to be someone high enough to force him to concur.

"Who is that?"

Robert sighed, "It's Mic—"

Before he could finish, he was interrupted by a knock.

The person came in almost immediately, not waiting for an answer.

"Sir, something urgent."

"Hmm, speak."

The person was quiet but looked at Misha, then at Robert.

Robert understood. "Misha, give me a minute. I will call you back."

Misha, curious and worried, nodded before leaving.

Robert looked at the person. "Okay, speak. What's so urgent?"

"Sir, it's about the person, JD."

Robert leaned back, rubbing his temple. "Him again? What happened?"

The staff member hesitated before handing him a phone. "Sir… Michael sent a message."

Robert froze, his eyes narrowing. He took the phone and read the short text. No greetings. No pleasantries. Just a single line:

"Don't waste your time. He's mine."

The weight of the message was heavier than any threat could be. Michael's reputation in the music industry was as clear as day: ruthless, calculating, and always getting what he wanted. When he set his eyes on talent, it was as good as done.

Robert exhaled slowly. In a way, he was relieved Michael chose to warn him. Probably because of the deal he and Michael had involving Frank. If not, he might have been blindsided without ever knowing where it was coming from.

He returned the phone. "Alright. You can go."

The staff member bowed slightly and left quickly, relieved to escape the room.

Robert pressed the intercom. "Send Misha back in."

Moments later, Misha walked in again, her brows furrowed. "Uncle… what's going on? You're scaring me."

Robert studied her, sighed, then finally said, "It's Michael."

Misha froze, the name alone tightening her chest. She didn't need more explanation. In the industry, Michael wasn't just a person; he was a shadow no one could run from.

Robert didn't explain all this to Misha — he didn't need to. She already knew. But as he leaned back in his chair, the silence between them made it clear: JD was now marked.

Misha's face tightened, her usual cold composure cracking slightly. For all her ambition, she knew there were boundaries no one dared cross. Michael was one of them.

Robert simply said, "We'll talk later. For now, let it go."

She nodded slowly, but her thoughts churned. If Michael wanted JD… then JD must truly be worth more than she imagined.

***

Meanwhile…

Far away, Dayo was busy finalizing his preparations for the Global Competition. Between rehearsals and practice to refine his skills, all of this would be a waste if he didn't get in, so he had to call to confirm he still had his spot on the wildcard selection.

He picked up his phone and dialed Urich.

"Ah, my long-lost friend," Dayo greeted with a small laugh.

"Hmph, so you finally remember this old man, eh? You're JD now, the star," Urich replied with playful annoyance.

"Haha, come on, you know it's not like that."

"Says who? Star boy Dayo, always too busy."

"Oh, please," Dayo chuckled, rubbing his forehead. "These past two months have been eating me alive. I barely have time to sit with family."

"Yeah, yeah," Urich teased. "But that's the life you signed up for."

"I mean… being known isn't like I imagined."

"Everyone says that."

There was a pause, then Dayo cleared his throat. "Urich, I know you already guessed why I called."

"Sure. It's about the Global Competition, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It starts in two weeks. I just wanted to hear things from your side."

Urich exhaled slowly. "Hmm. Everything is good… but there have been rumors about you."

Dayo frowned. "Rumors? What kind?"

"That Michael has eyes on you. Trying to poach you. Trying to buy you into his label."

The name was unfamiliar to Dayo, but from Urich's voice, he knew this person was a big deal. "Michael? Who's that?"

Urich was silent for a moment. "Let's just say… he's someone you don't want to deal with lightly. He's the kind of man who gets what he wants in the industry. Be careful."

Dayo raised an eyebrow but didn't push. Something in Urich's tone told him not to. Still, unease settled in his chest.

After the call ended, he didn't waste time. He immediately called Valery and Wayne into his office.

When they arrived, Dayo leaned forward, his tone sharp. "Both of you. Who exactly is Michael?"

"Michael???" They asked together.

Dayo went on to tell them the conversation he had with Urich.

For a moment, silence hung in the room. Valery shifted uncomfortably in her seat, while Wayne exhaled slowly, as though deciding where to start.

Finally, Wayne spoke. "Michael isn't just another label owner, Dayo. He's… the guy who runs things from the shadows. If this industry were a chessboard, he's the player moving half the pieces without anyone realizing it."

Valery nodded, her arms crossed tightly. "He has dirt on execs, artists, even politicians. That's why people don't cross him. It's not just power, Dayo. It's fear. He knows things about people they'd kill to keep buried."

Dayo frowned. "So he's basically blackmailing his way through the industry?"

"Not openly," Wayne said carefully. "But the effect is the same. Nobody wants to test him. He doesn't shout, doesn't threaten. He just… makes calls. And suddenly, your sponsors back out, your shows get canceled, and your reputation sinks overnight."

Valery leaned forward now, her voice quieter. "And he has informants everywhere — assistants, producers, even people inside labels. If something significant is happening, Michael hears it before it hits the press. That's how he stays ahead."

Dayo's jaw tightened. "So that's why Urich told me to be careful. But why me?"

Wayne gave a bitter laugh. "Because he sees potential. If there's one thing about Michael, it's that he knows talent; almost no artists under him have failed. And also because you've been in the news lately — from the airport incident to the World Cup. You're the kind of star Michael likes. He doesn't wait for permission, Dayo. Once he decides he wants someone, he'll move mountains to get them."

Dayo sat back, his mind racing. "And if I refuse?"

Valery and Wayne exchanged another glance. Then Valery said quietly, "If you refuse, he won't take it lightly. Best case, he leaves you alone, which is extremely rare. Worst case… he makes your life very difficult."

Wayne added, his tone heavier now, "I've been in this industry long enough to know — when Michael shows interest, people either fall in line or their careers vanish. And I don't mean vanish physically, but their careers… finished. Just like that."

The room went still. Dayo could feel the weight of their words pressing on him. He clenched his fists under the desk, trying to process it all.

Finally, he muttered, "So that's who I'm up against."

Valery's eyes softened, though her voice stayed firm. "Dayo, this isn't a game. You need to think carefully about your next moves. Michael doesn't forgive. He doesn't forget. If you're not careful, this competition won't be the only battle you'll have to fight."

Dayo sighed. He valued his freedom over everything. His life as a producer and soldier taught him that there's always a black sheep in every sector. He was unwilling to bend to someone else's will, even if it meant fighting to the point of no return. Still, he would do it strategically.

If Michael wanted a pawn, he had chosen the wrong man. Dayo wasn't here to be owned, not with his experience; he was the protagonist in this life, not a pawn.

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