Chapter 703: Kings behind bars

Michael Erickson had expected prison to be uncomfortable, but he had never imagined that he would spend the rest of his life looking at walls he could not purchase his way out of. The sentence had taken away his freedom, while the loss of his business empire had taken away almost everything else he believed made him important. He could still eat well, sleep in a comfortable room, and watch television, but none of those things changed the fact that he would never again walk into his office and have hundreds of employees waiting for his instructions.

The prison was unlike the ordinary facilities most people imagined when they heard the word. It housed inmates whose money, influence, and connections had earned them special treatment, even after their crimes had brought them down. The rooms were furnished properly, the food was better than what most prisoners received, and certain inmates had access to selected amenities. Powerful men had established their own hierarchy inside the facility, and those who understood how to remain useful to them could enjoy a degree of comfort. Michael and Silas Vane had both found protection within that arrangement, although neither man had mistaken it for freedom.

That morning, Michael sat in the small lounge attached to their shared accommodation, watching a business channel report on the latest changes in the international music industry. A tray of breakfast sat on the table beside him, mostly untouched. Silas occupied the other chair, reading a printed report that had arrived through the approved prison service. They had been given enough privacy to conduct ordinary conversations, but their movements and communications remained subject to the facility’s rules.

On the television, a presenter discussed JD Records and its growing influence across several markets. The report showed clips from recent performances, followed by footage of Dayo Jason at the O2. The presenter then moved to the acquisition of ML Label, the company Michael had built and Silas had helped finance. The transfer had been completed, and the report described JD Records as the new owner.

Michael reached for the remote and increased the volume.

"Go back a little," he said, keeping his attention on the screen. "I want to hear what he says about the acquisition."

Silas looked up from his report as the presenter repeated the announcement. JD Records had acquired ML Label after a review of its ownership, financial obligations, and existing contracts. The presenter explained that the label’s artists and staff would remain under the new management while the company moved into its next phase.

"Listen to them," Michael said. "They are talking about my company as if I never existed."

Silas placed the report on the table. "The company has changed hands. You can be angry about the language, but that will not change the ownership."

"It was mine before Dayo came anywhere near it."

"And now it belongs to him."

Michael turned toward him, clearly unhappy with the blunt answer. "You financed that label for years. You know what it took to build it. We had artists, distribution agreements, studios, international partners, and people in every major market. Do you think I can sit here and watch him take all of it without feeling anything?"

Silas did not argue with him about the scale of what they had lost. Their combined assets had once been valued at more than twenty billion dollars, spread across companies, property, investments, financial arrangements, and other interests. The label was only one part of that wealth, but it was the part Michael had attached his identity to most closely. Losing it to Dayo was difficult for him to accept because it made the defeat public.

"What bothers me," Silas said after a moment, "is that the acquisition went through while we were still trying to understand how much of our position had collapsed. We spent years building systems that were supposed to protect us from this sort of outcome. He found a way through them, and now he is taking control of the things we thought we could keep."

Michael returned his attention to the screen. A clip showed Dayo standing beside representatives from JD Records during an earlier industry event. He looked comfortable in front of the cameras, answering questions without appearing troubled by the criticism that had followed him for months. The report moved on to his recent performances and the growing success of JD artists, whose songs were gaining traction in markets where ML Label had once held a strong position.

Michael picked up the remote again and lowered the volume. "There is something about that boy that I should have taken seriously from the beginning."

Silas leaned back. "You have said that before. What exactly do you mean?"

"I first noticed him at a competition. He was talented, but talent alone was not enough to explain everything that happened afterward. I had watched plenty of young performers who could sing and dance. Most of them never came close to building the kind of audience he has now. Dayo was different, and I knew it before he became a problem for us."

"Knowing someone is different does not explain how he defeated us."

"No, but I remember something he gave me. I did not understand it properly at the time. I thought it might help us gain access to useful data or improve the way our songs reached people. I believed it could help with traction, perhaps give us a better understanding of what listeners were responding to. I never thought it would become part of the reason he could move so far ahead of everyone else."

Silas studied him for a moment. "You accepted something from him?"

"At the time, it seemed useful. We were at a competition, and he had already shown that he understood the business better than many people his age. I thought I was dealing with a talented young man who wanted to make connections. I did not think I was giving him any advantage by accepting what he offered."

"Do you still have it?"

Michael shook his head. "I cannot remember where it ended up, and even if I found it, I would not know what to look for. I am telling you that I have been thinking about it since the O2. His songs kept moving ahead, and every time we believed we had found a way to compete, he seemed to be somewhere else already. Other labels could not keep up with him. We could spend money on promotion, distribution, and partnerships, yet he continued to gain ground."

Silas looked back at the muted television. "You think he had an advantage that the rest of us did not understand."

"I think we failed to understand something important about him. I do not know whether the item itself had anything to do with it, but I cannot dismiss the possibility anymore."

Neither man had an explanation that could settle the question. Michael’s memory was incomplete, and he could not prove that the item had anything to do with Dayo’s success. Even so, the thought had taken hold of him. He had spent years believing that every problem could be understood through money, access, or influence. Dayo had defeated him in ways he had not anticipated, and Michael had begun searching through old decisions for an answer that might make the loss easier to understand.

Silas was less interested in the mystery of Dayo’s success than in what it meant for their future. He had financed the label and supported arrangements that had once given him influence over several parts of the business. The acquisition had removed another route through which he could regain control, and the money they had lost was no longer the only concern. Dayo now had access to people, contracts, and opportunities that Silas could not easily reach from prison.

"He has taken the label, and JD is growing," Silas said. "If his companies keep expanding, we will have fewer people willing to answer our calls. Those who still owe us favours will start wondering whether helping us is worth the trouble."

Michael gave a short, unhappy laugh. "Some of them have already stopped answering."

"Then we need to be careful about the people who still do."

A new segment began on the television, this time discussing JD Records’ recent chart performance. The presenter referred to several artists whose releases had gained attention after joining the company. There were clips of crowds singing along, short interviews, and a chart showing the label’s increasing reach. Michael watched until the report returned to Dayo, then switched the television off.

"I built ML Label to compete at the highest level," he said. "I did not spend all those years working so that he could walk in, take it, and use it to make himself even bigger."

"You cannot get it back by sitting here and being angry."

"Then tell me what I can do."

Silas did not answer immediately. He had spent enough time in custody to understand that their remaining influence depended on people outside the prison choosing to maintain it. They still had contacts, and some of those contacts had their own reasons for resenting Dayo. But a name in a contact list was not the same as a person willing to risk prison, money, or life for them.

"We have to understand what is still available to us," Silas said. "The people who helped us before may still be useful, but I will not assume that anyone is loyal simply because they benefited from us. We need to know who is still willing to act and what they can actually do."

Michael stood and walked to the narrow window. From where he stood, he could see part of the prison yard and several inmates moving under supervision. The men who controlled the informal hierarchy inside the facility had offered him and Silas protection, but that protection came with expectations. It was based on status, resources, and the belief that the two newcomers might still have something useful to offer. If they became liabilities, their position could change quickly.

"Even here, people have ways of getting things done," Michael said. "You know that better than I do. Rules are rules, but there are always people who ignore them, and there are always gaps in a system. We do not have to do everything ourselves."

Silas watched him carefully. "Be specific."

Michael turned away from the window. "Dayo has taken our businesses, our money, and the company we spent years building. He has made sure we cannot simply pay our way out of this. If he believes he can keep doing that and live peacefully, then he has misunderstood the situation."

"What are you proposing?"

"I am saying we should find out whether anyone can reach him. Not necessarily through us directly. There are people outside who would be willing to act if they believed the opportunity was right."

Silas’s expression changed. "You are talking about retaliation."

"Call it whatever you want. He has made himself the centre of everything that has happened to us. We cannot recover the money, and we cannot take back the label while we are here. But we can make him understand that there are consequences to what he has done."

"His security is not weak, and he has people around him who will notice unusual activity. If we make a careless move, the authorities will have another reason to look at whatever remains of our affairs. We have already lost enough."

Michael returned to his chair. "I am not suggesting that we rush into anything. I am suggesting that we test what remains of our network. If nobody is willing to help, we will know where we stand. If someone is willing, then we can decide what to do with that information."

Silas considered the suggestion. He did not like the idea of taking an unnecessary risk, particularly when they were serving life sentences and had no clear way to protect themselves from the consequences of another investigation. At the same time, he could not accept the idea that Dayo would continue expanding his influence while they remained trapped inside the prison. The thought of the singer using ML Label to strengthen JD Records was almost as difficult for him as the loss of his financial assets.

"Do not contact anyone who is likely to panic and start talking," Silas said. "We need someone who understands the situation and can pass a message without turning it into a public matter. No long conversations, no names we do not need to use, and no promises about money until we know what is possible."

Michael agreed. He knew their options were limited, but he also knew that the people who had once depended on them would be watching to see whether they accepted defeat. He was unwilling to give them that satisfaction.

They waited until later in the day, when their usual activities and scheduled movements had given them a reasonable opportunity to speak privately. Michael used an approved communication channel to reach an intermediary who had maintained contact with people connected to his former business circle. The conversation was brief, and he did not explain every detail of what he wanted. He asked whether the intermediary could establish contact with someone who still had access to people outside their immediate circle.

The intermediary did not give him an immediate answer. He asked why Michael needed such a contact and whether the matter involved the label. Michael said it was connected to Dayo and that they needed to understand what options remained to them. He avoided putting a specific plan into the conversation, but the purpose was clear enough to make the intermediary cautious.

"I cannot promise anything," the man replied. "People are watching what happens to you. Some of them will not want their names anywhere near this."

"I am not asking for a promise," Michael said. "Find out who is still willing to listen. That is all for now."

The call ended without a commitment. Michael returned to Silas and explained what he had asked for, including the intermediary’s hesitation. Silas was dissatisfied with the uncertainty, but he did not tell Michael to abandon the effort. They had few other options, and waiting for the world to forget about them would not restore anything they had lost.

"Make sure he understands that we are not asking him to act before we know what is possible," Silas said. "If he thinks we are desperate, he may use that against us. We need information first."

Michael said he would keep the next conversation limited. He had no intention of allowing their remaining contacts to decide that they were too dangerous to help, but he understood that the wrong approach could close the few doors they still had.

What neither man knew was that the conversation had attracted attention from someone they believed was merely part of the wider circle around the prison’s influential inmates. The observer had been careful not to involve himself in their discussion, and he had given them no reason to suspect that his loyalties lay elsewhere. He did not need to hear every word to understand that Michael and Silas were trying to find a way to reach beyond the prison and that Dayo’s name had become central to their plans.

The observer waited until he was away from the men before passing on what he had heard through a separate channel. His report was factual and restrained. Michael had contacted an intermediary, asked for access to people outside their immediate circle, and made clear that the matter concerned Dayo. Silas had urged caution and wanted to know what remained possible before they committed to anything. The discussion had also raised the possibility of retaliation, although the observer could not confirm that they had agreed on a specific method.

The report did not go directly to Dayo. It reached a member of the network responsible for monitoring the two prisoners, who recorded the information and marked it for further review. The next step would depend on whether the intermediary responded and whether Michael or Silas attempted another contact.

Inside the VIP prison, the two men continued their evening as if nothing had changed. They ate their dinner, watched part of a news programme, and spoke briefly about the next legal update they expected to receive. Their rooms remained comfortable, and the influential inmates who had offered them protection still treated them with a degree of respect. From the outside, someone looking only at their living conditions might have believed that they had escaped the worst of their punishment.

Yet neither man had accepted the life sentence as the end of the matter. Michael still believed that Dayo had taken something from him that he had every right to recover, while Silas was already considering how to preserve whatever influence remained to him. They had lost their freedom, their businesses, and more money than most people could imagine, but their anger had not weakened. If anything, it had given them a reason to keep looking for a way out of the position they were in.

They did not know that their first attempt to reach beyond the prison had been noticed. They also did not know that the information was being held for someone else to review, rather than being delivered to Dayo immediately. For the moment, they still believed they had room to make plans in private, and that belief was enough to keep them moving toward a decision neither man had yet fully considered.