Given her wealth, Emma could have just bought her way out.
But the music industry wasn't a vending machine where you tossed in money and picked your freedom off a shelf.
No.
It was a twisted, multi-layered machine built on contracts, control, and centuries of unchallenged power. A place where talent was currency, yet power was monopoly, and if you weren't careful, you'd sign your soul away before your first album even dropped.
Rex leaned back in his chair, arms folded, eyes focused on the glowing screen. He remembered reading lots of similar news in his previous world. Different world, different lives—but the systems, the patterns, the traps? They were always the same.
