Chapter 55: Trapped All Set

It was Monday. They had four days.

This wasn’t just about protecting Hailey’s fragile ego; this was about protecting a multi-million-dollar rollout. AMG had locked in radio premieres, press circuits, playlist placements, and billboard campaigns—all built on songs that Ruby had written in silence. If the public realized right before Friday that Hailey was a vocal fraud singing stolen tracks, the entire album launch would implode, taking millions of corporate investment down with it.

That was why Travis was striking the clips instantly. That was why Hailey was panic-buying bot farms to burn accounts. They couldn’t afford a single seed of doubt in the public’s mind before midnight on Thursday.

I stared down at my phone as a masterstroke of a plan clicked into place.

We weren’t just going to play whack-a-mole with casual covers anymore. We were going to build an inevitable, explosive countdown that would peak on the exact same night Hailey’s album dropped—and hijack her entire launch.

I walked back inside, drying off with a towel as Ruby finished tuning her guitar. She looked up at me, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she leaned against the sofa.

"Account number two is set up," she said, her voice carrying a hint of exhaustion. "I just recorded the third cover. I really, really hope they don’t take this one down too."

I shook my head with a faint smile. "They will. Guaranteed."

Ruby sank back into the cushions, letting out a long, defeatist sigh. "So we’re just throwing videos into a void?"

"No," I said, stepping closer and leaning against the table to look her straight in the eye. "We’re setting a trap. I just checked AMG’s schedule. Hailey’s album drops this Friday."

Ruby’s eyes widened slightly. "Friday? That’s why they’re acting so insane..."

"Exactly," I grinned. "They’re terrified of any negative press before launch day. And that’s why we’re going to hijack her entire album release."

Ruby sat up, her curiosity instantly piqued. "How?"

"I’m going to set up an exclusive, high-profile interview for her on Friday morning—a live broadcast countdown right before the album drops," I explained, laying out the board. "Her PR team will jump at it because they’ll think it’s the ultimate promo push to clear the air about the ’online rumors’ and hype up her drop. They’ll ask for approved questions beforehand, and the interviewer will show them a totally safe, sanitized list."

Ruby leaned in, listening intently. "And then?"

"And then, live on air, I pay off the host to go totally off-script," I said, a cold, calculating smirk spreading across my face. "He’ll bring up the mystery singer who’s been dropping acoustic covers of her tracks and getting scrubbed off the internet. It’ll catch Hailey completely off-guard. Her pride will force her to deny it, claim it’s a bitter nobody trying to ride her clout, or pretend she doesn’t even know who you are."

"She’ll definitely deny it," Ruby agreed, her eyes darkening. "She’d never admit I exist on live camera."

"Which sets up the execution," I continued, leaning in closer. "Right after she denies it, during the mid-show musical segment, you walk out onto that stage. Unannounced. Live."

Ruby gasped softly, her hand flying to her chest.

"You’re going to sing one of the unreleased demos you wrote for her—the exact track she put as the lead single on the album dropping that midnight," I said smoothly. "You perform it raw, flawless, and live in front of her face and thousands of viewers. By the time Hailey realizes what’s happening, it’ll be too late. She can’t pull the album back on release day. The second her album drops at midnight, everyone will hear your lead single on her tracklist—and the entire world will know Hailey Sterling is a complete fraud."

Ruby stared at me, her mouth slightly open as the sheer magnitude of the plan washed over her. The exhaustion in her face completely melted away, replaced by a sharp, electric fire.

"A live broadcast..." she whispered, a slow, triumphant smile spreading across her lips as she gripped her guitar neck. "She won’t be able to edit it out. She won’t be able to pay a bot farm to delete it."

"Nope," I said, offering her my hand to pull her up. "No deletion buttons on live television. Are you ready to take her crown, Ruby?"

Ruby took my hand, stepping up with absolute, unwavering confidence. "Let’s do it."

I got straight on the phone with the showman—the host of the biggest live entertainment talk show in the industry. I pitched him the ultimate exclusive: a live, high-energy album countdown special with Hailey Sterling on release day.

He took the bait instantly. I walked him through the official surface setup, keeping the off-script ambush strictly between me and my bank account for now. Once he saw the potential ratings, he jumped on board and fired off the formal invitation to Apex Music Group.

Travis and Hailey’s team didn’t just accept; they devoured it. It was the exact high-profile press victory they needed to drown out the cover controversy. Within twenty-four hours, banners were going up, promo clips were circulating, and the interview was trending across every major platform.

"Hailey Sterling: Live Album Release Special."

The trap was officially set, locked, and advertised to millions of viewers.

For the next four days, Ruby and I went into absolute lockdown mode. While Hailey was busy doing fake press runs and prepping her outfits, Ruby was in the estate studio with Annie, refining her vocals until every single line was razor-sharp. We picked the lead track—the crown jewel of Hailey’s upcoming album, a song Ruby had poured her heart into months ago before it was stolen.

By Thursday night, the atmosphere in the estate was electric.

Ruby stood in front of the full-length mirror, wearing a sleek, effortless dark outfit that commanded quiet authority—a stark contrast to Hailey’s tacky, over-the-top pop aesthetic. She held her acoustic guitar, her posture perfectly calm, her eyes sharp with absolute focus. There was no more timid maid left in her.

"Everything’s paid for," I said, walking up behind her and meeting her eyes in the mirror. "The host has his real prompt hidden under his official notes. The moment he flips the script, the security on the studio floor is under my payroll to let you step onto that stage."

Ruby turned around, looking me dead in the eye with a slow, ruthless grin.

"Let her have her spotlight for the first ten minutes," Ruby whispered, slinging her guitar over her shoulder. "Because after that, I’m taking the rest."