The next morning, JD Records Headquarters.

The executive floor was unusually peaceful, the calm before a storm that none of them knew was approaching. The morning light streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long rectangles of gold across polished floors and modern furniture. Executives moved through hallways with coffee cups and tablets, conversations muted and professional, the rhythm of a typical Tuesday establishing itself.

At least until Dayo walked into the building.

Because ten minutes later, every major executive had received the same message on their phones, the notification stark and unexplained:

**Conference Room. Immediately.**

No explanation.

No details.

Just an instruction.

Which naturally caused panic after all since they have known Dayo he rarely says something like this in normal circumstance.

Wayne arrived first, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity, his mind already cycling through possible disasters. He burst through the conference room doors with the energy of a man prepared for bad news, his tie slightly askew, his coffee still steaming in one hand. "What happened? Who died?"

Alice arrived seconds behind him, her tablet clutched in one hand, her eyes scanning for information that wasn’t yet available, her professional mask firmly in place but her fingers tapping against her screen with nervous energy. Then Valerie, composed but alert, her posture perfect, her eyes sharp, her professional instincts sensing something significant in the unusual summons. Then several senior executives, each one arriving with questions that no one could answer, the room filling with murmured speculation and worried glances.

Everyone looked confused, the energy shifting from individual morning routines to collective unease.

"What happened?"

"Did something go wrong?"

"Did the release get moved?"

"Did somebody leak the song?"

"Are we being sued again?"

"No." Alice’s voice cut through the chatter, calm but edged with her own uncertainty. "Nobody knows anything. The message came from Dayo directly. No context. No warning."

"Then why are we here?" 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

Nobody knew as the person that asked for the meeting was not even present.

Just then the door opened.

Dayo entered.

The room instantly became quiet, the kind of silence that fell when someone with authority walked into a space, the natural deference that came from years of respect and results. He moved with his usual calm, his posture relaxed, his expression unreadable in a way that could mean anything from triumph to disaster.

Wayne folded his arms, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, studying Dayo’s face for clues. "Alright spill what happened?"

Dayo sat down at the head of the table, calm and relaxed, almost suspiciously relaxed, his posture loose in a way that suggested he was carrying good news rather than bad. He looked around the room, meeting each executive’s eyes in turn, letting the silence stretch just long enough to build anticipation. Then simply said, his voice carrying the weight of announcement—

"I’m bringing Luna out of retirement."

Silence.

Absolute silence.

For three seconds nobody moved, nobody blinked, nobody breathed, the words hanging in the air like smoke that refused to dissipate.

Then—

"What?"

Wayne nearly fell out of his chair, his body jerking forward with such force that coffee sloshed over the rim of his cup, staining his sleeve. He didn’t notice. "What did you just say? Can you repeat yourself?"

Dayo repeated it, slower this time, giving each word space to land. "Luna. Is returning. To music. I am bringing her to JD Records. Properly. Professionally. As an artist."

Alice’s eyes widened, her professional composure cracking to reveal genuine shock beneath, her tablet slipping in her grip. "Luna? Your Luna?"

"My Luna." Dayo smiled, the expression warm and unapologetic. "The same Luna who sang before she could walk. The same Luna who wrote her first album in her teens. The same Luna who stepped away because she chose motherhood, not because she lost her gift the queen of pop and unarguably the best female vocalist. That Luna."

Valerie dropped her pen, the sound of plastic hitting wood loud in the stunned quiet. She didn’t bend to retrieve it. "Dayo, are you serious? This isn’t a joke? Because if this is a joke, it’s cruel, and I will personally—"

"It’s not a joke." His voice was firm, certain, carrying none of the teasing that sometimes accompanied his announcements. "She came to me last night. She told me she wants to return. She told me she misses it, that the fire is still there, that she’s ready. And I told her yes. I told her JD Records would sign her, build her team, plan her rollout, do this properly. I told her I would write for her, produce for her, stand beside her through all of it. And now I’m telling you."

One executive, a man named Frank who handled international distribution, actually stood up, as if the physical act of rising could help process information that seemed impossible. "What do you mean you’re bringing Luna back? As in—officially? A full contract? A full campaign? Like into JD Records?"

"As in everything." Dayo leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his eyes serious. "As in we treat her like the artist she is. Not my wife. Not a favor. Not a side project. Luna. Artist. JD Records. Full stop."

The room exploded, the silence shattering into a thousand pieces of excited disbelief, voices overlapping and climbing over each other.

"WHAT?"

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?"

"WHEN?"

"WHY DIDN’T YOU START WITH THAT?"

The executives where shocked beyond measured reason be that Luna has left the industry twice and each time she came back she came stronger than the last first it was because of she lost her touch and she came back with a new style that swept the audience of their feet and now she went back inside again does this not mean she would be stronger counting the fact she had Dayo by her side.

The meaning was clear she was coming back hot and their label would have her in roaster another reason they were happy was in the roaster of JD they didn’t have any legendary figure apart from Dayo most of the artist where breaded by Dayo which was good but the label

Alice was already reaching for her laptop, her fingers moving across the keyboard before her mind had fully processed the announcement, her professional instincts kicking in before her emotions could catch up. "When did this happen? Last night? Have you discussed terms? Does she have material ready? What’s the timeline? Wayne, stop shouting, I can’t think—"

Wayne looked like Christmas had arrived early, his expression transforming from concern to pure delight in seconds, his earlier panic forgotten. "Luna is coming back. Luna. Do you know what this means? Do you know what her audience is going to do? They never stopped asking, Dayo. Never. Every interview, every appearance, every time your name came up, someone asked about her. ’Where is Luna? Is she okay? Will she sing again?’ And now—now we get to answer them."

Valerie was smiling so hard she couldn’t hide it, the expression of someone who had been waiting for news she hadn’t known she was waiting for. "This is brilliant. Strategically, artistically, emotionally—this is brilliant. The narrative alone, Dayo. The love story, the return, the partnership. But more than that, her voice. Her writing. We all know what she’s capable of."

The entire room transformed instantly, the energy shifting from worried confusion to electric excitement, voices rising and falling as ideas began to form.

Wayne pointed dramatically at Dayo, his finger accusatory but his expression delighted. "You cannot casually announce something like that. You can’t just walk in here, looking like it’s any other Tuesday, and drop ’I’m bringing Luna back’ like you’re commenting on the weather. There are protocols, Dayo. There are ways to prepare people for earth-shattering news."

"I just did."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes." Dayo leaned back, his smile widening. "And I would do it again. Because watching your faces was worth every protocol I broke."

Alice ignored them completely, her mind already working at full speed, campaigns and strategies and branding and rollouts and possibilities spinning through her consciousness like a slot machine hitting jackpot. She was muttering to herself, numbers and dates and concepts tumbling out. "We need to assess her catalog, see what she has ready. We need to think about announcement strategy—do we tease it, or drop it fully formed? We need to consider timing relative to Beautiful Things, we don’t want to cannibalize our own momentum. We need—"

"Alice." Dayo’s voice cut through her stream of consciousness, gentle but firm.

She looked up, her eyes slightly unfocused, already deep in planning mode. "What?"

"Breathe."

She blinked. Then laughed, the sound surprised and self-aware. "Right. Breathing."

Then she looked up from her laptop, her eyes sharp and focused, the professional taking over from the surprised colleague. "When? When do we start? When does she come in? When can we hear what she’s been working on?"

Dayo smiled, the expression knowing and pleased, the man who had been planning this moment longer than anyone realized. "That’s what we’re here to discuss."

And judging by the excitement already spreading across the room, the buzz of conversation and the rapid exchange of ideas and the energy that had transformed the conference room from quiet concern to electric anticipation, chairs scraping closer together, voices rising with plans and possibilities—

The next Chapter of Luna’s career was about to begin.