"So, Vivian, how is the plan coming along?"
A man in his fifties spoke in a low, heavy voice as he gazed out of the tall glass window of a four-floor tower.
"So far, good," Vivian replied carefully. "But… can you please tell Philp to give me some space?" Her voice trembled as she looked at the man cautiously; he is the CEO of the label.
Mr. Uric slowly turned his head, his face straight and not a single emotion totally unreadable. "Hmm… You knew the deal you signed. So deal with it. UC Label will keep its part, but you must keep yours."
Vivian's chest tightened at the thought of everything. Her face was calm, but the pressure behind her eyes betrayed the stress she was currently feeling. She knew this deal was hard to get, and the entertainment industry was anything but clean. If she wanted to rise, she had to get dirty, so she had no choice but to endure the cost and the sacrifice.
"…Noted, Mr. Uric. I'll keep my part of the deal," she said softly.
"Very well. Call the company-assigned agent to see me. I need to iron out some details while I wait for you to play your part."
Vivian forced a smile and gave a small bow. "Alright, sir. I will do that."
As she left the office and walked through the quiet corridor, memories of how it all began began to flash back.
Vivian had been just another struggling singer in the city, chasing stardom, fame, and deals that always ended in rejection. Her voice was good, but the world was full of "good voices." She wanted more than to just be another name in the industry, which was why she started dating Dayo, as he brought her something, he brought his ideas, which were amazing and good songs but she was not satisfied with the slow growth—she wanted fame, influence, and the life she thought she deserved, and fast.
Then she met Philp.
Philp wasn't just another man chasing her; he was the son of one of the major shareholders of UC Label, a free pass to everything she desired. The first time they met at an industry mixer, he leaned in and whispered, something unexpected: "You could be a star… if you're smart enough to take the opportunity." Then squinted at her then placed his card in her hands.
At first, she hesitated. She knew he wanted more than friendship. But ambition had always burned brighter than the fear in her heart, and she knew how the industry operated. Eventually, she agreed: if he could get her into UC Label, she would date him.
Philp delivered. Within weeks, she had a contract in hand and her first single lined up with Dayo's songs. It wasn't love that bound them; it was a simple transaction. He gave her the ladder to climb, and in return, she gave him the illusion of affection. It's how the industry works, and cases like this rarely happen, so she jumped into it.
Over time, though, the bargain became heavier than she expected. Philp grew possessive, aggressive, and inserted himself into her career decisions and threatened her whenever she tried to pull away. She despised his control, but she also knew that her fame was built on the foundation he provided, so she patiently waited, as that was all she could do.
One evening, during one of their heated arguments, which happens frequently, Philp's temper went overboard. He slapped her across the face, leaving a red mark on her cheek. Vivian froze, shocked, but she expected something this soon since she had already seen how he reacted anytime he was annoyed, holding her face as shock turned to cold calculation.
But she was in a dilemma as she was meant to release her album soon, and she couldn't go like this with a mark on her face to the media, then an idea popped into her mind
\Why not… blame this on Dayo?
She could already see the story: the poor, betrayed girlfriend, beaten and wronged by the man she "loved." The sympathy, the headlines, the attention—it could all be hers, and it would crush Dayo in the process.
By the time the redness on her cheek deepened into a bruise, the plan to frame Dayo had fully formed.
After meeting Mr. Uric, Vivian clenched her fists with a deep determination in her eyes. She had sacrificed her self-respect to climb this far, and she wasn't about to let anyone or anything, not even Dayo, bring her down.
***
At the hospital entrance, after three days of arranging everything he needed, Dayo moved quietly under the cover of a face cap. He is dressed simply in black. His steps were calm, but his heart was beating fast with purpose.
He left the hospital and headed straight to the hotel where the incident had happened. As he walked, he prayed silently that the people behind this mess hadn't fully covered their tracks and didn't remember his face.
When he reached the entrance, he took a deep breath before walking in. The air around him changed instantly; the calm aura was gone. In its place was the razor-sharp presence of a man trained for survival. His military instincts had resurfaced.
"Good evening. I'm Officer Brandy. I need access to your CCTV cameras," Dayo said smoothly, flashing a badge he had swiped from a nurse earlier. His voice was confident, not a single hint of hesitation.
The receptionist froze. She had seen important people before, but this man… this man radiated authority. Her instinct told her not to argue.
"Uh… sure, Officer Brandy. This way."
She led him to the security room, where two staff members were sitting in front of the screens of the CCTV.
"Good evening, gentlemen," Dayo said in a calm but commanding tone, leaving no room for refusal. "I need to see your CCTV footage from three days ago, second floor, around 7:30 p.m."
One of the technicians flinched a bit at his words but tried to hide it. Dayo's sharp eyes caught the reaction immediately. Years of military experience told him this man had something to hide.
The other technician, unaware, began pulling up the footage. Meanwhile, the first one subtly pulled out his phone and started typing under the table.
Dayo smirked inwardly but kept his calm. He already knew the evidence had likely been tampered with. That didn't matter; he had a plan.
"Found it, sir," the second technician said.
Dayo leaned forward. The footage was clean—but too clean. Someone had edited it.
He turned to the nervous technician and said casually, "Could you get me a drink?"
"Uh… mm… yeah, sure. I will be back in a moment," the man stuttered before hurrying off, not even asking what exact drink Dayo meant.
The moment he was gone, Dayo sat in front of the computer, fingers flying across the keyboard. Layers of hidden files appeared as he bypassed the weak security protocols. His lips curved into a smile as he inserted a flash drive and copied the evidence he needed.
Dayo leaned back with a calm expression.
"Here's how this works," Dayo said quietly, his tone heavy with authority. "What happened here tonight never happened. This is a confidential investigation, and it stays that way."
The technician froze.
"Not a word," Dayo continued, his voice like ice. "Not to your colleagues, not even to your partner. As far as anyone knows, I found nothing."
The man swallowed hard. "Y…yes, sir."
"Good," Dayo said, letting a faint trace of killing intent slip into the air. The man's body language stiffened.
With that, Dayo put the flash drive into his pocket and walked out of the hotel, without them suspecting anything about him.
***
Hours later, in a dim office, Mr. Paul, the man overseeing the cover-up, was angry.
"WHAT?! Police came around?!"
"Y-yes, sir," came the trembling reply from the technician on the other end.
"And were they able to get anything?"
"I… I don't know, sir."
Paul's voice laced with anger through the line. "What do you mean you don't know?! What are you doing over there?!"
"I'll… I'll check now, sir, and get back to you."
"Hmph! Check fast. I'll be expecting an answer."
Paul hung up and scowled, muttering to himself. "I thought Douglas said no one would investigate this… Hmph. I'd better call him."
A few minutes later, after confirming that no official investigation had been made from Douglas's end, Paul still felt uneasy. His phone rang.
"Hello, so—"
"Mr. Paul," the voice on the line interrupted smoothly. "The footage is safe. Whoever came couldn't retrieve anything. I made sure of it. Without top-level skills, no one could recover that file, and that officer didn't have that level."
Paul exhaled in relief. "…Alright. I'll send you a little extra for the trouble."
"Haha! Mr. Paul, you're as generous as ever."
***
Meanwhile, back in his hospital ward, Dayo leaned against the bed frame with a faint smirk. On his laptop, he analyzed the retrieved footage.
The evidence was his.
He wasn't out for revenge, at least not yet, but he would reclaim what was his 'technically'. His ex-girlfriend had taken his songs, and he would either take them back or make her pay royalties. If she refused, the footage in his hands could ruin her and her label behind her.
He thought carefully about the label. It wasn't the biggest, but it was close to the top. Companies like that valued their reputation above all. If the scandal fell into the hands of their competitors, it could destroy their credibility that they have been building for many years, and he was sure they wouldn't let that happen because of his ex, as she was not worth it.
He leaned back against the bed. He had a plan.
Tomorrow, the game will begin.
Dayo closed his eyes and let the weight of exhaustion pull him toward sleep. But behind his calm face, a dangerous determination had already taken root.