It was around lunchti when the door to the CEO’s office opened.
The receptionist of the Managent building stepped inside, her head bowed respectfully as she said in a small voice, "Mr. Kosonen, Dance Instructor Antony is here."
Charles finally lifted his head from the stacks upon stacks of papers he’d been buried in for the past few hours. He ran a hand down his face, then flicked his hand toward the receptionist, signaling her to send the guest in.
Just fifteen minutes earlier, his younger half-brother had done the most unthinkable thing of all: he had sent him a text.
Antony K:"We need to talk. Serious business. I’m coming to your office now."
Charles stared at the screen, silver gaze narrowing. The world must be ending tomorrow, it seed.
"Your office looks as dull as ever," Antony comnted nonchalantly as he stepped inside.
He wore a loose white shirt today, slightly damp from his earlier dance classes, his collar casually unbuttoned.
"Never considered adding a few plants?" he teased, coming to stand in front of Charles’s desk. "They could totally bring so life back to your gloomy dystopian existence."
Charles kept his head bent over the desk. "Get straight to the point. I don’t have the luxury of ti today," he muttered, the words falling into the papers he was still staring at.
"It’s about my trainee," Antony said. "Kaija Sepala."
The pen stilled in Charles’s hand. His gaze finally lifted toward his younger half-brother. Leaning back against his chair, he commanded, "Start talking."
The severity on Antony’s face matched his own. "I’m here to report the injustice my trainee faced during the festival," Antony said. "I didn’t tell her I was coming, but considering the severity of the case, I can’t just stand aside and watch her get robbed of the prize money she deserved."
Charles’s face tightened. "What sort of injustice?"
"Outright, shaless plagiarism of a song she wrote herself."
With that, Antony pulled out his phone and hit play. The further the intro carried on, the more Charles’s brow drew together.
It was the track Antony had made for Kaija, the first song they’d worked on together for the competition. And once the lyrics began, once Charles recognized the voice singing them, his face went rigid.
"Sound familiar to you?" Antony asked, arms folded as he watched recognition settle cold and sharp across Charles’s expression.
"Isn’t this the song Liisi Grant perford last night?" Charles asked, still processing the whole situation unfolding before him.
Had he really nad a thief as the winner? In front of every KE employee and beyond?
And worse, right in front of her, the rightful owner of the song. No wonder why Liisi’s voice had sounded so lacking to his ears last night.
But what drove him even madder was...
Had Kaija kept sothing this huge from him again? Without telling him a single word? Even though she’d known the entire ti?
He could already feel his blood boiling, rage twitching across his face all over again.
"It is, indeed," Antony confird. "I produced this track for Kaija myself. But there’s no solid evidence proving she wrote the song before Liisi. I’m only bringing the case to you so you can wield whatever power you have to force Liisi Grant into admitting her cri."
"If you’re suggesting forceful asures, then I’m afraid that’s not a wise move," Charles said, thinking hard. "She’s still an asset of the company, active for three years now and her reputation has been good."
Antony’s voice rose sharply. "Don’t tell even you are helpless, brother! You’re gonna let a thief get away with money she doesn’t deserve?"
"Of course I’m not giving a single coin to a thief," Charles grumbled. And this thief hadn’t stolen from just anyone, but she had stolen from his songbird.
"I’ve already called the panel for a eting this evening regarding the result," he continued. "Even if you hadn’t told this, I still don’t think Liisi’s performance deserved to win the night. There’s sothing weird behind the result that I’m not aware of yet, but I’m going to find out."
"You better do," Antony muttered, already turning toward the door. "I’ll excuse myself, then. I still have to figure out who dared destroy her performance outfit right before the show."
"Stop right there," Charles’s voice cut in again before Antony could reach the handle, once more dripping with cold anger. "What did you just say?"
"Soone went into the dressing room and cut Kaija’s performance outfit into pieces," Antony replied flatly over his shoulder. "Though I wasn’t exactly a fan of that fit, such malevolence is simply unacceptable."
"Any clue who might’ve done that?"
"The outfit was kept in the dressing room, so there’s no cara inside," Antony explained. "There might be caras outside showing who went in and out, but given how busy that room always is, I’m not exactly optimistic. People keep coming and going constantly. I’ll start by talking to the staff who were working closest to that room during those hours."
"I’ll inform Security to go through the footage," Charles said. "You handle the talking. If you find anything, report back directly to ."
A smirk lifted on Antony’s face. "If only you and I could get along this well on other matters, brother. Sounds like we’d make a good team on this."
"Quit babbling," Charles shot back coldly, already bending over the papers. "Your visiting ti is over. Leave."
A sharp chuckle slipped out of Antony as he turned the handle. But as he did, he saw the receptionist from earlier standing right outside the door, face taut, shoulders stiffened like she’d been waiting for ages to enter.
"Can I... can I co in?" she asked, her voice small and trembling.
Antony stepped aside and opened the door wider for her to slip through.
"What now?" Charles lifted his gaze from the table, already irritated at being disturbed again.
"Mr. Kosonen," the receptionist stamred. "Outside, outside..."
"Outside what?"
"Reporters, fans, the press..." She pointed toward the windows. "Sir, a few hundred of them have gathered at both gates. Security tried to disperse them, but even more people keep coming!
"They’re demanding we release an official statent to the press explaining why Ms. Sepala did not win the KE Annual Festival."
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