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Nico’s already pulling out his phone. “I’ll call Lucas now. He needs to make sure Laney doesn’t hear a thing. Not until we’re ahead of it.”

I reach out and grab his arm before he can dial. “Thank you,” I say quietly.

He looks at me, jaw tight. “You’d do the same for me.”

I nod.

Because I would.

Because we’ve bled for each other before—and this? This is nothing in comparison.

Nico walks toward the window, making the call.

I stay seated on the couch, rubbing a hand over my jaw, pulse still thudding behind my eyes.

The show is in less than two hours.

And all I care about… is making it on stage, speaking my truth, launching that donor campaign.

Because Joey needs it.

Because Laney believes in it.

Because despite everything—they’re still watching.

And I’m going to make damn sure it counts.

The cops are gone.Reggie’s pacing the suite like he’s aged ten years in the last ten minutes, muttering numbers and PR soundbites under his breath. My name is still trending—for the right reasons, thank God—but the taste in my mouth is still bitter as hell.

Nico ends his call by the window and turns to me. “Lucas is handling it. She doesn’t know. Not yet.”

I nod. Relief loosens something in my chest. “Thank you,” I say again, quieter this time. “You don’t know how much that means.”

Nico lifts a brow. “I think I do.”

Reggie keeps talking, but I block him out, nodding for Nico to step with me toward the far end of the suite, away from the buzz, the static, the scrambling.

“I want a meeting,” I say. “With the label. Right after the show.”

Nico folds his arms. “Gerald and the execs?”

“All of them. And Reggie.”

He leans his shoulder against the wall. Calm. Watchful. “What’s the plan?”

I look him square in the eye. “I’m blowing it all up.”

His brow arches slightly.

“I’m done letting them own me,” I say, voice low but firm. “The control, the manipulation, the spin. I want out. I’ll go independent. I’ve got the fan base, the clout. I don’t need their leash around my neck anymore.”

Nico’s face barely shifts—but I catch the glint in his eye. That proud, knowing smirk that only shows when he’s genuinely impressed.

“I’ve got your back,” he says, just like that. No hesitation.

“I know,” I murmur.

We share a long moment in silence, the kind that carries years of history—of battles fought side by side. Of loyalty that doesn’t flinch.