The private jet carrying Aether and their essential team landed smoothly at Paris–Le Bourget Airport. The only key staff member who traveled with them was Silas Trent, the Artist Manager, along with a significant entourage: a team of Stylists, Make-up Artists, Security Personnel CPD, and PR Staff. Damian Reed, the CEO of Zenith Records and a co-owner of the company with the band, remained in New York, coordinating the global business affairs.
Silas Trent finished a late-night call, folding his phone. He looked at the four band members, who were already changing into comfortable clothes for the transfer to their hotel. Silas, exhausted but professional, took a bite of a catered sandwich—fuel for the endless schedule.
"Good job, gentlemen," Silas said. The media blitz was flawless. Paris is locked down. Our PR Team posted the airport arrival time strategically. You know what that means.
Jax Ryland, focused and quiet, nodded. He knew it meant pandemonium. He was still operating with the serious, ambitious mindset of the Zenith Publishing CEO, reviewing his notes for the negotiation with Aria Vance when he returned to New York.
The drive to the hotel was slow, cutting through midnight traffic. Kellan and Rhys were chatting easily, while Nick was already scrolling through his favorite gaming forums.
"I'm hitting the gym before the party," Kellan announced. "Need to look sharp for the Gucci Launch."
"I need a clean bed and a shower," Rhys laughed. "This whole week has felt like running on pure adrenaline and expensive coffee."
They arrived at the Parisian hotel and quickly ate a simple, nutritious late dinner prepared by the hotel's finest chefs—a necessary ritual to ground them before the high-energy events.
In his quiet suite, Jax couldn't rest. He looked out over the sparkling city, but his thoughts were far away, back in his modest childhood home in New York.
His father, Richard Ryland, and his mother, Helen Ryland, were middle-class professionals. They had always dreamed of a safe, stable life for him—a doctor, a lawyer. His passion for music and his drive to succeed in the chaotic music world had been seen as a rebellion, a risky gamble. They had finally accepted his career not because of the immense money, but because of his immense talent and success.
Jax thought: They trust success, but I still don't. I have to prove this isn't luck. I need to dominate every legal and business negotiation to secure this legacy forever.
He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to his sister.
Anastasia, Jax's sister, was a university student still living at home with their parents. She had followed the news of the Paris trip with excitement, a huge fan of her famous older brother.
Jax Text: Paris is loud. Get some rest. Don't forget to study.
Anastasia Reply: Loud is good! Enjoy the party. And don't worry, I saw the new Gucci suit. Looks amazing, big brother!
Jax smiled faintly. The need to protect his family and ensure their security, along with the memory of his humble beginnings, was the true fuel for his aggressive business drive.
The Gucci Launch Party was held in a massive, breathtaking hall near the Louvre, transformed into a showcase of high fashion and exclusive celebrity. The event was an explosion of sound, light, and staggering wealth. Hundreds of the most influential people in fashion, film, and music filled the space, drinking rare champagne, enjoying exquisite French cuisine, and posing for photographers.
Aether arrived, making an immediate, powerful entrance that shut down the room. They walked the red carpet, the flashbulbs a blinding, rhythmic pulse. The fans, held back by a strong security line, screamed their names in a chorus of pure adoration.
Fan Comment shouted: Jax, are the new track rumors true?
Fan Comment shouted: Rhys, you look incredible in that green!
Fan Comment shouted: Aether! Aether! Aether! We love you!
The band's outfits were a meticulous, unified statement of their collaboration with Gucci. They wore the same style of luxurious, sharply tailored suits, but each in a different, rich jewel tone: Jax wore a deep velvet green, subtly showcasing his authority. Kellan wore shimmering sapphire blue. Rhys chose a sharp, angular ruby red, and Nick wore a bright amethyst purple—each color emphasizing their individual character within the group.
They moved through the crowd, flanked by the security team. The party was a chaotic mix of high-level chatting and strategic snacking. Guests ate delicate canapés, sipped champagne, and made connections.
Rhys was immediately deep in conversation, thinking about Talia Hayes and the Ascend Communications deal. He was enjoying the power that came with negotiating multi-million dollar deals, fueled by Talia's attractive energy.
Nick was enjoying the high-energy environment, laughing easily and talking about the upcoming tour. He made sure to eat a proper dinner before the party, knowing the drinks and snacks wouldn't be enough.
Jax was polite, but his mind was on the negotiation with Aria. He ate a few small snacks and sipped sparkling water, scanning the room for powerful figures, looking for an angle: an unexpected piece of information or leverage he could use against Aria Vance when he got back to New York. His search was a work habit; you always look for a hidden vulnerability.
It was during a photo opportunity with the event host that a woman separated herself from a group of powerful international patrons and approached Jax directly. She was stunning, dressed in custom emerald silk that commanded attention.
This was Saskia Volkov, the only child of Ivan Volkov, the founder of the massive, secretive Volkov Global Conglomerate. The Volkovs were patrons of the arts and finance, operating with the financial power of a global bank.
Saskia bypassed the security line with practiced, smooth confidence and extended her hand directly to Jax.
"Mr. Ryland. Your music is the heartbeat of this generation, Saskia said, her English flawless and accented with a soft, sophisticated lilt. Her eyes locked onto Jax with an intense, admiring possessiveness.
"Ms. Volkov, Jax replied, recognizing the last name and the immense influence it carried.
Please, call me Saskia. I'm a major supporter of Aether, she continued, holding his hand slightly too long. I've been following the recent instability with the Vance Global takeover of the Thorne Company. It's messy, and it creates uncertainty around important assets like Zenith Records.
Jax thought: She's sharp. She went straight to the weakness: corporate instability.
Saskia continued, her voice dropping slightly to be heard only by him. The Volkov Conglomerate believes in stable power. We don't have current business with Zenith Records, but we admire strong leadership. If you are concerned about this hostile corporate threat, and if you need a strategic partner to strengthen your position against any aggression from Vance Global, my family is prepared to invest. We can provide massive financial stability, Mr. Ryland. You need only ask.
Her offer was a massive power play—a public declaration of support that instantly signaled her interest in Jax and his company's well-being. She was offering an anchor made of gold.
"That's generous, Saskia," Jax replied, maintaining a professional distance. "But Zenith Records prefers to fight its own battles."
Saskia smiled, a sophisticated, challenging grin. I understand. But tonight, there are no battles. Just art, conversation, and potential alliances. I'd love to talk to you more about your strategic vision over dinner, Mr. Ryland.
Jax politely deflected, but he knew the battle lines had shifted. Saskia Volkov was a powerful, beautiful rival who could offer Jax the absolute financial certainty his middle-class upbringing had instilled in him to crave. She was an immediate, immense leverage point against the coming fight with Aria.
The party eventually wound down. The band and their team returned to the hotel for a few hours of much-needed sleep before the morning's photoshoot with Gucci.
Meanwhile, back in her high-rise apartment in New York City, Aria Vance was cooling down after a demanding training session in her private, well-equipped gym. She finished a light, protein-heavy late dinner, sitting alone in the quiet.
She put on a comfortable hoodie and logged into her high-end gaming console. She needed the precise focus of the game to clear her head before the difficult negotiation with Jax Ryland.
She found her favorite partner immediately.
Gamer Tag: MoodMaker
MoodMaker: Commander, where are you? We need to strategize on the final boss. I had to ditch a ridiculously fancy party for this.
Aria, using her character name Valkyrie, smiled faintly—the only true smile she ever allowed herself.
Valkyrie: Reporting for duty. Late dinner, just finished training. I'm in the lobby. Focus on the objective, MoodMaker. Less chatter, more action.
Nick Aliyev, back in his Parisian hotel room, grinned, settling back into his game. He had no idea his online 'Commander' was the powerful, secret woman his CEO was about to face in the toughest negotiation of his career.
The next morning in New York, while Jax prepared for his photoshoot, Michael Johnson, the Vice President of Vance Global, was giving a televised interview.
Michael Johnson was the face of the company: charming, highly polished, and always in the spotlight. He was the reason the media and the public knew Vance Global existed.
"The acquisition of Thorne Company was a complex but necessary move," Michael said to the reporter, his smile smooth and confident. Vance Global, led by its major shareholders, is committed to stability. The financial world is strong, and we are looking forward to a long, profitable future, focused entirely on business.
The interview was a perfect example of the public narrative. Michael Johnson handled the press, the public knew him, and the actual owners, Elias Vance and Aria Vance, remained in the shadows, their existence a secret known only to a few powerful legal and military contacts.
The stage was now fully set. Jax was returning with a massive new leverage point, Saskia Volkov, and a renewed drive for control. Aria was ready for the fight, having enjoyed her last hours of peaceful anonymity.