From A Producer To A Global Superstar-Chapter 316: Another shocker

The CEO stayed frozen in his chair long after the clip ended.

It wasn’t the shouting that disturbed him. He’d shouted at people before. He’d heard worse. It was the ease of it. The way the truth slipped out of the assistant’s mouth like it had been sitting on his tongue for a long time, waiting for the right moment to fall.

And the worst part was the angle.

The phone was placed properly. Not shaky. Not accidental. It caught the assistant clearly. Caught the room clearly. Caught the moment he lunged for it like a fool.

For seven years.

Seven years the boy had walked behind him, carried his files, memorized his habits, learned how to read his face from a distance.

Seven years, and he still walked into a trap like an amateur.

The CEO’s jaw tightened until it hurt.

He picked up his phone and called.

The first ring went.

The second rang.

The third.

No answer.

His eyes narrowed. He called again. Immediately.

Still nothing.

A small vein in his temple started beating. He stood up so fast his chair rolled back and hit the wall.

He tried the assistant’s number again.

No answer.

"Idiot," he muttered, voice low and sharp. "You’re hiding now."

His fingers moved without thought. He switched to the other line. The private one. The one only a few people knew. The one that usually made everyone pick up, even if they were bleeding.

The call connected.

A breath came through the speaker, heavy, tense.

Then a voice, rougher than usual.

"What."

The CEO didn’t even greet.

"You think you can ignore me?" he snapped.

A short silence.

Then the assistant laughed once. Not happy. Nor was he polite. Something bitter and ugly.

"Look at you," the assistant said. "Now you remember my number."

The CEO’s nostrils flared.

"Where are you," he demanded.

"In my house," the assistant replied. "Where you sent me to hide after you used me like a shield."

The CEO’s fingers tightened around the phone.

"Watch your mouth," he said. "You forget who you’re speaking to."

"No," the assistant replied, voice cutting. "I remember exactly who I’m speaking to. That’s the problem."

The CEO’s chest rose slowly.

"You embarrassed us," he said. "You dragged our name into mud with your stupidity. You went to that paparazzo’s house like you had nothing to lose. You fought like a street boy. You let yourself get recorded. Now your face is everywhere."

The assistant didn’t deny it.

He exhaled, slow.

"And whose order put me in that position," he asked quietly. "You want to pretend you didn’t push me? You want to pretend I woke up one morning and decided to destroy someone like Dayo on my own?"

The CEO’s eyes flashed.

"You’re my assistant," he said. "You do what you’re told."

The assistant’s voice hardened.

"You told me to take the blame," he said. "You told me to go out there and apologize so they would stop looking at you. You sat in your office while I stood outside like a criminal. While they cursed me. While they threw cameras in my face. While they called me names. And you watched."

The CEO’s lips pressed into a thin line.

"I protected the company," he said. "That’s what leaders do."

The assistant laughed again, sharper this time.

"Protected," he repeated. "You protected yourself. Don’t dress it up."

The CEO slammed his palm on the desk.

"Enough," he barked. "Listen to me. You have one job right now. One. You keep quiet. You don’t speak to anyone. You don’t make another mistake."

The assistant’s tone shifted, almost calm, like a man who had already crossed a line in his head.

"You’re funny," he said. "You’re telling me to keep quiet after you left me to drown."

The CEO leaned forward as if the phone could feel the threat.

"You think you can threaten me?" he said. "After everything I’ve done for you?"

The assistant went silent for a second.

Then he spoke, low, deliberate.

"For seven years," he said, "I cleaned your mess. I carried your sins like files in a folder. I protected your face. I protected your name. I even protected your pride when you were too proud to protect yourself. And the first time the fire touched your skin, you pushed me into it."vl

Lhgf

The CEO’s throat moved.

"Don’t be dramatic," he said, but his voice wasn’t as clean as it was meant to be.

The assistant continued anyway.

"I warned you," he said. "I told you to leave Dayo alone. I told you the internet was changing. I told you people were noticing the pattern. Every time his name rose, the clip came back. I told you it was suspicious. You ignored me."

The CEO snapped.

"Because you’re not paid to advise me," he said. "You’re paid to execute."

"And I executed," the assistant replied. "Until you sacrificed me."

The CEO’s eyes squeezed shut for a second, then opened.

"What do you want," he asked, trying to sound in control.

The assistant’s answer came quick.

"I want out," he said.

The CEO’s brows pulled together.

"Out?" he repeated.

"Yes," the assistant said. "You want someone to carry the blame? You already got it. But don’t think I’ll stay here and keep smiling while you pretend I did it alone."

The CEO’s voice dropped, dangerous.

"You think if you leave, you’ll survive?" he said. "Do you know what happens to people who betray—"

"Stop," the assistant cut him off.

The CEO froze.

The assistant spoke slowly now, like he was choosing every word.

"You don’t scare me anymore," he said. "Not after I saw what you did. If you want to keep your hands clean, then you better start cleaning this properly. Because if I go down, you’re coming with me."

The CEO’s face tightened.

"So that’s it," he said. "Blackmail."

The assistant didn’t deny it.

"Call it whatever you want," he said. "I call it survival dont forget i have been your assistant for seven year i have all your dirty laundry. "

The CEO stared at the wall like he could punch a hole through it with his eyes.

"You don’t understand what you’ve started," he said.

The assistant’s voice went colder.

"No," he said. "You don’t understand what you started. Dayo is not like the others you bullied quietly. He’s not like the rookies you crushed and paid off. He’s the kind of man that waits. And when he hits, he hits in public."

The CEO felt his stomach twist.

He could hear the truth in it and hated it.

The assistant exhaled again.

"You didn’t even tell me about this clip," the CEO snapped suddenly, desperate to grab something. "You forgot. You forgot the evidence existed. You forgot to warn me. Do you know how stupid that is?"

The assistant’s laugh this time was tired.

"I didn’t forget," he said.

The CEO blinked.

"What?" he asked.

"I didn’t forget," the assistant repeated. "I just... I didn’t think he would use it. I didn’t think Dayo would have enough reach to make the whole world stare. I thought they would argue for a day and move on like they always do."

The CEO’s mouth opened, then closed.

He didn’t even have an insult sharp enough for that.

The assistant’s voice softened, just a little.

"You trained me to believe the public forgets," he said. "That’s what you taught me."

The CEO’s hand trembled once around the phone.

"You’re going to fix this," he said, forcing the command back into his voice. "You will go out and say what I tell you to say. You will deny whatever needs denying. You will—"

"I’m not denying anything again," the assistant replied.

The CEO’s eyes widened.

"You’re not—"

"No," the assistant said. "I’m done being your mouth."

The CEO’s voice rose.

"You ungrateful—"

The assistant cut in one last time.

"Listen," he said. "You have money. You have PR. Use it to protect yourself if you can. But don’t call me again to threaten me. If you want my silence, then you give me safety. A clean exit. A relocation. A future. Anything. Because I’m not going down for you."

The CEO’s breathing turned heavy.

"You think you can demand terms from me?" he hissed.

The assistant answered without hesitation.

"Yes," he said. "Because you already demanded my life from me. I’m just negotiating the price."

The line went quiet.

The CEO stared at the phone like it had insulted his bloodline.

Then the call ended.

Not politely.

Not with respect.

Just cut.

The CEO stood there for a full minute, phone still in his hand, listening to nothing.

His chest felt tight.

His office suddenly felt smaller.

And then his desk phone buzzed.

A notification, not a call. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

He glanced at it.

An email.

A formal header.

A law firm’s name.

He opened it, and the first sentence made his stomach drop.

Legal Notice.

Defamation. Coordinated manipulation. Interference with business operations. Demands for preservation of evidence. Immediate cessation. Damages.

He scrolled.

It wasn’t emotional.

It wasn’t begging.

It was the kind of cold language that meant someone had already decided to crush you and was simply informing you of the method.

The CEO’s jaw clenched.

His mouth went dry.

He sat back down slowly, like his legs had stopped trusting him.

For the first time since this whole war started, he didn’t feel anger first.

He felt cornered.

A knock came at the door.

Not a soft knock.

A quick urgent one.

He didn’t answer.

The door opened anyway.

His new assistant stepped in, face pale.

"Sir," he said, voice shaking, "the board secretary just sent a message. Emergency meeting. They want you on-site in one hour. The shareholders are joining on Zoom."

The CEO stared at him.

"What," he asked, as if the word could change reality.

The assistant swallowed.

"They said it’s urgent," he repeated. "They said it can’t wait."

The CEO looked down at the legal notice again.

Then at the phone in his hand.

Then at the empty air where the assistant’s loyalty used to be.

His lips parted slightly.

No words came out.

Because he finally understood something he should have understood from the beginning.

This wasn’t a scandal anymore.

This was removal.

And the worst part was that he could already feel the room turning against him, even before he entered it.