Small Hands Novel Chapter 02

Small Hands Novel Chapter 02

Vesper Music Group operated from a converted industrial complex in the Hollywood Hills that, from the outside, looked like an abandoned studio

lot

Inside, it was a fortress. State-of-the-art recording studios, production suites, a data center housing the proprietary Al music platform I’d

designed, and a war room where my team managed artists, contracts, and investments across forty countries.

I arrived at 1 AM, still in the black dress from the Grammys. Security cleared me through three checkpoints-biometric, retinal, voice recognition.

Frank met me at the elevator. Sixty-three, silver goatee, leather jacket over a Hendrix t-shirt. He’d spent thirty years in the music industry-A&R

legend, discovered half the artists on the radio-before I recruited him to run Vesper when I was twenty-four.

“You look like hell,” he said.

“I just watched my husband sing my miscarriage to his girlfriend on live television.”

He handed me coffee. “You’ve had seven years of patience. I’d say you’re overdue for a reckoning.”

The war room was alive-screens covering every wall, streaming analytics, contract data, market positions. My real kingdom. The one I’d built in

secret while Jax told interviewers his wife had “no ear for music.”

‘Show me the Titan file,” I said.

Frank pulled it up. The numbers were brutal.

Titan Records-Jax’s label-had been hemorrhaging money for two years. Bad deals. Bloated overhead. They’d survived on a $400 million credit

line from Vesper, negotiated through intermediaries.

Jax had no idea his lifeline came from the wife he called talentless.

“There’s more.” Frank’s face darkened. He pulled up a new screen. “Three months ago, Titan started licensing tracks to an overseas distributor- Kyros Entertainment. The music they’re selling-” He displayed audio waveforms side by side. “-are your unreleased demos. From the vault.”

I went cold. “My vault? That server is air-gapped. Nobody-

“Somebody does. The breach traces to a device on your home network.” He paused. “Your personal laptop, Wren.”

The laptop I left on the kitchen counter. The one Jax teased me about-“always scribbling in your little diary.” The one I’d been too trusting to lock

down because who steals from their own wife?

“He cracked my files.”

“And there’s a new wrinkle.” Frank pulled up a profile. “Titan just appointed a new Head of Creative Development.”

Sienna’s face filled the screen.

My best friend. My husband’s mistress. Now officially claiming credit for my music at my husband’s company.

“She has zero songwriting credits before this year,” I said flatly.

“But she’s listed as co-writer on fourteen tracks-all matching your unreleased demos note for note.” Frank’s eyes met mine “She’s not just

sleeping with your husband. She’s wearing your entire career like a costume.”

The rage I’d swallowed for seven years crested like a wave.

“Titan’s investor showcase,” I said. “When?”

“Five days. They’re presenting their ‘new creative direction’ with Sienna as the face. Streaming platforms, label executives, major investors. They’re banking on it to secure a two-billion-dollar buyout.”

“Using my music. My voice. My work.”

“Yes.”

I sat down at the console. “Get me everything. Every file, every timestamp, every forensic link between their catalogue and my originals.”

“Done. What else?”

“Get me a line to Rhys Calder.”

Frank’s eyebrows shot up. “Calder? The media mogul?”

“He owns the venue where the showcase is being held. And he’s been trying to meet V for four years.”

“He’s also been called the most dangerous man in entertainment.”

“Good.” I pulled up Calder’s profile. “I need dangerous.”