Rise of the Zillionaire Star

Chapter 48: The CEO Cracks

A storm had been building for weeks, but on this night it finally broke out. 

Roman Vale, the untouchable CEO of ValeStream and the self-proclaimed kingmaker of the music industry, appeared on every major broadcast channel. His expression was carved into a mask of cold fury. Behind him, bright light banners revealed the announcement that would set the world’s stage on fire.

“Jaylen Cruz,” Roman’s voice dripped with hate as his image appeared across giant screens in Times Square and every trending feed across the net. “If you truly believe you have exposed me, if you believe your pathetic stunt documentaries and songs can topple an empire then prove it. Face me in front of the world for a duel of talent. And it will be a battle of battle at the New York Dome Festival.”

The crowd in the studio gasped, and the world collectively leaned closer to their screens.

Roman’s smirk twisted as he raised a hand for silence. “One stage and one spotlight. If you win, maybe you will keep your fleeting fame. But if I win, your name is finished. Every platform, every venue and every chance you thought you had would be gone. You will vanish back into the dark where you belong.”

The feed cut out. Silence swept across the edifice in Jaylen’s small studio. The only sound was the faint vibration of the servers powering Zee, his system companion.

Jaylen sat stiffly with his fists clenched and his heart hammering. This wasn’t just a taunt. Roman had been cornered. His legal wall was shattered and his empire’s cracks were exposed. Now he was desperate and started throwing everything he could find into a narrative that would help reshape what the people have known. 

A chime echoed in Jaylen’s head as Zee’s holographic interface came to life.

“Main Questline Updated!

Break the Industry’s Crown. Objective: Defeat Roman Vale in the New York Dome Festival Talent Showdown.

Failure Condition: Career Oblivion.”

Jaylen exhaled slowly. He wasn't scared but his heart kept racing hard against his chest. “Of course he would do this. When the throne shakes, the king throws a festival.”

“Correction,” Zee responded coolly with data streams showing across its blue-lit form. “When the king panics, he orchestrates a distraction. Vale has everything to lose. Accepting this is dangerous but necessary. Decline, and his narrative stands uncontested forever.”

Jaylen ran a hand through his hair. Tension pressed  like a vice on his skull. “He thinks I’m afraid of him.”

“Are you?” Zee asked in a flat tone. 

“No.” Jaylen’s eyes hardened. “I’m done being afraid.”

He turned to his livestream console. His fingers were flying on its screen. Within minutes, his broadcast lit up with numbers spiking past two hundred thousand concurrent viewers. Fans flooded the comment section and spammed it with  hashtags, “#CrossOverVale … #ChainsBreak … #DomeShowdown.”

Jaylen leaned forward with a steady gaze into the camera. “Roman Vale has thrown his challenge. And I am here to tell him.” His fist slammed the desk with a sharp crack. “I accept.”

The comment section was flooded with different emojis, donations, and rallying cries. His words went outward like an earthquake.  Newsfeeds and fan pages were instantly on fire.

Zee chimed again,  “Questline Confirmed.

Preparation Phase: Seven Days until the Dome Festival.

Warning: Vale assembling elite puppets.”

Jaylen frowned. “Elite puppets?” His tone hardened. 

Screens turned ON with streams of surveillance footage pouring in as Zee tapped into the deep webs of the industry gossip and leaked schedules. A sick weight pressed into Jaylen’s gut as he saw the names.

Roman wasn’t stepping onto the stage alone. He was building an arsenal.

Several handpicked artists polished with corporate resources and trained in manufactured perfection. Each one of them has millions of fans on social media.  And standing at the center of them all was Mia Lennox.

The sight hit Jaylen like a gut punch.

She stood at Roman’s side in leaked rehearsal footage. She was dressed in glittering silver with her smile as sharp as a blade. The same Mia who had betrayed him twice. The same Mia who once stood close enough to whisper promises into his ear. 

Jaylen’s jaw tightened. “So that’s how it is.”

Zee’s voice carried no emotion. “Analysis: Vale intends to weaponize emotional sabotage. Mia Lennox represents both a strategic rival and a psychological strike. Probability of confrontation: 100%.”

Jaylen pushed back from his chair. He walked across the small room. His chest hit really hard with anger.

In Roman's mins, he thought he could crush Jaylen with people he encountered in the past. He thought Jaylen would break down onstage.

Not this time around.

“This isn’t just about music anymore,” Jaylen muttered in a cold voice like that of a steel. “It’s about showing the world who controls the stage. Him or us.”

Zee’s glow intensified. “Then we prepare for war.”

The days leading up to the Dome Festival were chaos incarnate.

Every headline on blogs was all about the impending showdown. Paparazzi swarmed Jaylen’s street hunting for a single photograph. 

ValeStream’s army of influencers released smear after smear like, “Jaylen’s charity was a scam,” “Jaylen can’t perform live.” Each lie sharpened to cut.

Jaylen answered with  Clips of his raw rehearsals and just as he dropped it, they all trended. Unedited vocals leaked on fan forums also helped in proving his talent.

And every time a smear campaign rose, Zee’s Blackout Protocol countered with cold efficiency, rerouting traffic, amplifying truth, and letting the fans fight back.

But Roman’s empire wasn’t slowing down anymore. Billboards across the city showcased his puppet team. 

Zee whispered in Jaylen’s ear as he trained, “Your enemy controls the stage, the lighting and the sound. But he cannot control the authenticity of your voice. That is your weapon.”

Jaylen poured every waking moment into preparation. Sweat slicked his body during rehearsal after rehearsal. His voice cracked, healed and then soared again. His fingers bled from the strings of his guitar until Zee synthesized protective padding just to help.

And through it all, his fanbase rallied harder. They filled comment sections with battle cries and created fan art of him standing against Roman like a knight.  They spammed hashtags that refused to wash down the drain.

#DomeShowdown had already overwhelmed every other trend in the country.

Finally, the night arrived.

The New York Dome Festival pulsed with great energy. Over a hundred thousand fans filled the stadium. Their roars shook the ground. Millions of people tuned in globally and streams were fed across every platform.

The stage itself was a technological marvel. Massive holographic screens, shifting lights and pyrotechnics primed to explode. Roman Vale had spared no expense. This was not just a concert. 

Backstage, Jaylen stood before the mirror with sweat dripping down his face. He adjusted his mic, flexed his fingers, and steadied his breathing.

Zee appeared as a pulsing hologram at his side. “Final reminder: Performance window is twenty minutes. Strategy: authenticity over the mask. Use your narrative. Use their eyes.”

Jaylen gave a faint grin. “You sound like a coach before a deathmatch.”

“In truth, it is,” Zee said simply.

A voice rang through the backstage corridors, “Jaylen Cruz… ten minutes to go.”

Jaylen’s chest tightened. The time had finally come.

From the other side of the curtain, he could hear Roman’s booming voice, the cheers of the crowd and the energy that Vale thrived on. Beneath it, he swore he caught Mia’s laughter.

He closed his eyes. Flashes of betrayal came into his head. Her false promises, her staged tears and her sharp smile when she aligned with Roman. Pain twisted in his chest, but he shoved it aside.

Jaylen opened his eyes, burning with a promise to get down.

“Let’s end this,” he whispered.

Zee’s interface glowed bright blue as the countdown began.

And when the curtain was lifted, Jaylen stepped into the blinding lights of the Dome, and into the roar of a hundred thousand fans.

At the opposite end of the stage, Roman Vale appeared with his elite puppets lined in formation. 

At the center was Mia Lennox, her eyes locked with Jaylen’s and a cruel smirk curled on her lips.