The morning after the AMA celebration, the immense pressure of Jax Ryland's celebrity machine began to focus entirely on one goal: piercing the corporate shield of Vance Global.
Jax sat at his colossal mahogany desk, staring at the latest reply from Michael Johnson, the Vice President. It was the same professionally evasive language: "The designated Vance Global operative remains engaged in classified strategic planning and will be available upon the completion of their current directive."
Jax slammed his hand on the desk, the sound muffled by the thick wood. The victory of the AMAs suddenly felt thin and unsatisfying. He had conquered the music world, but he couldn't even force a meeting with a security consultant. He knew, instinctively, that this obstruction was personal, a direct challenge from Aria Vance, and it infuriated him.
"She's doing this on purpose, Silas," Jax said, his voice cold. She's using her corporate structure as a weapon. She wants me to beg.
Silas Trent, standing by, checked his phone. The media is still high, Jax. This delay is actually building buzz for the tour. But personally, I agree. She's toying with you. She knows your biggest weakness is being told 'no.'
Jax pulled up a copy of the Vance Global contract on his massive screen, reviewing the fine print. He knew he couldn't sue them; the contract was ironclad, designed by professionals far beyond his legal team. His only leverage was the massive financial investment he had authorized.
I want a name, Silas. I want to know exactly who is running our security, and I want a face-to-face meeting scheduled immediately. I don't care about 'strategic planning' anymore. I need to look the person in charge in the eye. Use financial leverage. Tell Johnson we will delay the next payment until the field commander is present at the meeting.
Jax thought: If Aria Vance is too untouchable to deal with the public, then her surrogate will be the one I dismantle. The need to control the situation, and by extension, control Aria, was now his singular, driving obsession.
Even in his focused rage, Jax was grounded by the simple memories of his family. He often thought of the warmth of his mother, Stella, hugging him, and the sincere pride in the eyes of his father, Richard. He was the firstborn, the one who had taken the risk and built the empire. He knew his younger sister, Anastasia, a university student, looked up to him, and he carried that responsibility. He also reflected on his chosen family, his bandmates: Rhys Vance, the pragmatic one; Kellan Frost, the soulful one; and Nick Aliyev, the loyal one. The connection they shared was built on the foundation of their different worlds Rhys's brother was a cautious financial advisor, Kellan's twin sisters were music teachers who valued purity, and Nick's father was a retired, practical construction worker. He couldn't let some enigmatic security consultant undermine the structure they had built.
At her secure home, Aria Vance was pacing lightly across her living room floor, testing her mobility. Her wound is significantly healed now, thanks to the quick field treatment and her own excellent physical conditioning. The sharp pain was gone, replaced by a dull stiffness that reminded her of her limitations, but no longer controlled her. She had been strictly resting for over ten days, and the enforced stillness had left her mind sharper and more aggressive than ever.
Elias Vance and Talia Hayes sat with her, reviewing Jax's corporate demands and the final preparations for their decoy.
"He's demanding a meeting by the end of the week, Commander," Elias confirmed, holding the printout of Jax's latest email. He is threatening to withhold the next payment. He is escalating professionally, just as you predicted. The financial threat is real. He is not backing down.
Aria, moving with her signature controlled grace, stopped before a large wall screen displaying the logistics of the Eclipse Tour. Good. The illusion of control is the most effective weapon against a man like Ryland. He believes if he can control the puppet, he controls the puppet master. We give him the puppet.
Elias was making the discreet call to Frankfurt to recall Agent Rourke when Aria's kind housekeeper, Mrs. Evelyn Carter, entered the room, carrying a fresh pot of chamomile tea and a platter of fruit slices. Mrs. Carter moved with quiet grace, immediately sensing the tension. She placed the tea on the table near Aria.
"I overheard a little bit of that," Mrs. Carter said softly, looking at Aria. I don't need to know the business, dear, but please, don't rush your healing. You can't fight if you're not strong.
Aria looked at the housekeeper, feeling the deep, maternal care that often broke through her professional armor. I won't rush it, Evelyn. This plan requires patience, not speed.
Mrs. Carter nodded, accepting the boundary. She smoothed the blanket over Aria's legs. I've made a hearty soup for dinner. You eat that, and you rest. The rest of the world can wait. Aria found a rare moment of peace and safety in the woman's simple command, a feeling she rarely allowed herself to indulge.
The simple, non-negotiable directive from Evelyn rest was a luxury Aria hadn't afforded herself in years. She watched the older woman leave the room, the scent of chamomile lingering. It wasn't the kind of peace she sought, which was usually found in calculated action, but a necessary recharge. Aria knew her best weapon was her clarity, and that clarity depended on a fully recovered body and a mind unclouded by fatigue. She took a slow, deep breath, letting the moment stretch out, an act of intentional vulnerability and acceptance she would immediately deny if anyone asked.
"Elias," she said, her voice dropping back to the Commander's tone, the moment of softness extinguished. "The moment Rourke lands, I want the briefing to begin immediately. No delay. Jax Ryland is operating on pure competitive impulse, and we need to move faster than his ego. This decoy must be flawless. He's trying to dismantle us; we're going to give him a target that serves our purposes perfectly.
"Agent Lena Rourke is here," Elias stated. She landed an hour ago. She's ready for the briefing and the final transformation.
"Good," Aria affirmed. Talia, you will handle the physical aspect. Elias, the psychological brief.
Talia leaned forward, intrigued. So, Lena needs to be the absolute opposite of charming. She needs to be the corporate version of a brick wall.
"Exactly," Aria said. Jax Ryland will try to find a crack. He will look for emotion, ego, or weakness. Lena's job is to prove that Vance Global is an unfeeling machine, run by executives who view him as an expensive problem. She must embody the cold, precise image of the CEO he originally met. She is not human; she is a contractual obligation.
Lena Rourke was brought to a secure safe house near Aria's location. Lena was a logistics expert, rarely seen outside the Frankfurt office, possessing the meticulous mind and quiet focus required for the job. Physically, she had the same dark, sharp features as Aria, but her usual style was conservative and unremarkable.
Talia Hayes took control of the visual brief. This isn't just a costume; it's a corporate defense mechanism, Lena. You need to look exactly like the high-powered, intimidating woman who signed the contract. We're talking custom tailored, restrictive clothing. Everything says, 'I am busy, and you are wasting my time.' We need the illusion of a CEO who doesn't tolerate distraction.
Lena was fitted into one of Aria's own spare power blazers and a tailored skirt, the fabric unforgiving and restricting, forcing a rigid posture. Talia worked with her hair and minimal makeup, creating the severe, professional look Aria favored.
Elias handled the psychological conditioning. They reviewed the meeting scenario repeatedly.
"Ryland will test you," Elias warned, his voice low and serious. He will try to charm you, manipulate you, and probably intimidate you with his financial leverage. You are an impenetrable wall. You know the contract. You deny him any personal information about the CEO or the Commander. If he asks about the 'deep cover logistics,' you pivot immediately to the security budget and the contractual obligations.
I am the designated field commander. My only directive is the successful execution of the Eclipse Tour security contract, Lena recited, her voice monotone and professional. "I will not discuss the personal affairs or whereabouts of Commander Vance."
Aria, managing the final review via a secured video feed, watched Lena intently. Ryland will attempt to personalize the interaction, Lena. When he does, you reference the Zenith Publishing shareholders and the need for fiscal discipline. Use their own language against them.
Lena Rourke was the perfect choice. She absorbed the instructions like a true logistics expert, her face a mask of impenetrable professionalism. I understand. I will be the most boring, most frustrating executive he has ever encountered.
Aria gave a slow, approving nod. Perfect, Lena. You are not just a manager; you are a strategic defense. You are the corporate wall he cannot breach.
Across the ocean, in her Milan penthouse, Soverkis Volkov was deep into strategic planning. She had received the initial intelligence reports on Jax Ryland, his AMA triumph, his public intensity, and the immediate financial impact of the Aether brand.
She dismissed the initial impulse to fly to the US immediately. Immediacy is for amateurs. Soverkis was not a woman who chased; she was a woman who prepared a battlefield and then walked onto it when the opponent was most vulnerable.
She looked at the images of Jax Ryland: the handsome, intense face, the commanding stage presence, the recent interview demanding a "challenge."
"He thinks he is in control of his desires," Soverkis mused to her Chief Strategist. "He has just achieved his greatest public victory. He will be exhausted, arrogant, and looking for a private conquest to match his public triumph. He needs to feel the full weight of the wall he is hitting with Vance Global before I appear.
She ordered her team to gather more refined data. I don't just want financial reports. I want psychological profiles. I want to know his schedule, his personal security, and every detail of his known associates. I want to know who this 'Vance Global' is and why they are frustrating him. I need to know his vulnerabilities.
Soverkis decided to leverage her own corporate power for the eventual move. She began setting up preliminary meetings with a major competitor to Zenith Publishing, a subtle, strategic move designed to put pressure on the market before she even set foot in New York. Her arrival would not be a romantic pursuit; it would be a professional ambush.
She was delaying her arrival not out of hesitation, but out of calculation. She knew the tension had to build. When she finally arrived, Jax Ryland wouldn't see a fan; he would see a woman who commanded respect, power, and, potentially, threatened his business. She would present herself as the ultimate challenge he had publicly demanded.
Meanwhile, Jax Ryland received a reply from Michael Johnson confirming the meeting. "The designated Field Commander, Lena Rourke, will meet with you at the Vance Global offices on Friday at 10:00 AM to discuss the operational security and financial logistics of the Eclipse Tour."
Jax read the name. Lena Rourke. It was a name without a history, without a face, without a scandal. Just a name. His frustration intensified. They were sending a subordinate, a proxy, a ghost.
"She won't even face me herself!" Jax snarled, crushing the paper in his hand.
"Jax, this is standard corporate procedure," Silas attempted to rationalize.
"No, this is a direct insult," Jax corrected, his eyes blazing with competitive fire. She is treating me like a distraction. Fine. I will treat her proxy like a target. Book the meeting. And Silas, get me a comprehensive dossier on this Lena Rourke. Find her weakness.
Jax had no idea he was preparing to meet a decoy designed specifically to have no weaknesses, a mirror of the cold, professional exterior of the woman he truly wanted. Aria Vance had given him a fight, but it was a fight against an illusion. And while he battled the ghost, she would remain safe and in complete control from her sanctuary. The tension was now perfectly set for the inevitable clash between Jax and the corporate wall he couldn't tear down.