Dominate Showbiz: Media Tycoon Discovered My Talent-Chapter 92: Try Me

Charles stood frozen in front of the door to Room 1, a pistol hidden in the inner pocket of his jacket.

Owning firearms for self-defense was perfectly legal in S Country, and he had a full collection of them in all brands and sizes. He had just never expected to use one in a situation like this.

If Juho Maley pinned a knife to Kaija’s throat the moment he walked through this door, he wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in the man’s forehead.

But what if what he found instead was that punk lying naked in her bed, with her right next to him?

His teeth clenched as he shoved the image away and swiped the key card at the door.

Inside, the darkness was overwhelming, save for the faint light slipping in from the corridor and from the living room balcony.

Charles stepped inside in slow, soundless strides, letting his eyes adjust. No sign of either Kaija or Juho Maley yet, only the kitchen and living room resting in total silence.

Carefully, he slid a hand back to close the door, eyes still fixed on the room. But just as it clicked shut, the back of his neck was struck with a painful blow.

THWACK!

Charles dropped to his knees from the shock, both palms splayed on the floor to support himself. Before he could retaliate, another hit landed, knocking him fully to the ground.

Clenching his teeth, he rolled to the side just in time to dodge another blow, and when he did, he caught a glimpse of cold, gleaming green eyes glaring down at him in the dim light.

Another furious fist came down toward his face. Charles shot a hand up, catching the younger man’s arm mid-strike.

"Is that all you’ve got?" Charles sneered, driving his foot hard into Juho’s abdomen, sending him toppling backward and slamming into the door.

Furious, Juho pushed off the door and lunged again. But the moment he saw the cold metal of the weapon aimed straight at him, his fist froze mid-air.

Click clack.

A round was chambered.

"Easy, mate," Juho smirked, his fists loosening into raised, empty hands within seconds. "I’m unarmed."

"Yeah? What a shame," Charles muttered, rising to his feet.

He stepped toward the corner and flicked the light switch on, his head jerking toward the white couch. "Sit down nicely and don’t try anything stupid, or I’ll feed you some metal candies."

A sharp chuckle broke from Juho. "As you wish," he said, moving slowly to the couch and throwing himself onto it, the pistol still trained squarely on him.

Seeing Juho clearly under the full light now, Charles’s expression tightened.

"You’re wearing a robe," he said at last, eyes narrowing at the way Juho sprawled on the couch in the white bath robe like he was having a spa day .

"You want me to get you one?" Juho teased casually, as if he’d lived here forever. "The bathtubs here are pretty nice too, and you look like you could use a hot soak."

"Where’s Kaija?" Charles growled low in his throat.

"Sleeping soundly in her room, like a baby," Juho replied easily.

Charles’s voice went colder. "Did you do anything to her?"

"How could I?" Juho snorted. "She locked herself in her room the whole night. I only got the room next to hers."

Charles fell silent. As easily as he could detect Kaija’s lies, he found himself unable to read the smug expression of the young man sitting in front of him now.

His gaze flicked toward the master bedroom, then back to Juho, still faintly smirking, the pistol still steady in Charles’s hand.

"You’re Juho Maley," he stated rather than asked.

"Indeed. And you’re Charles Kosonen." 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"What is your purpose here at KE?" Charles demanded. "And don’t tell me you’re merely a part-time photographer or some harmless flight attendant with a passion for photography."

Juho let out a laugh. "Look who’s done his homework. I’m only here to support your precious artists with endless inspiration and recreation for their creative ventures."

Charles’s face hardened, his grip tightening on the pistol. "You work for Simo Isota?"

"You could say that," Juho shrugged. "Or, if you want it more precise, let’s say I’m someone very close to him."

"How close?"

"Close enough to spill more secrets about the man than all the journalists and reporters working under you combined," Juho replied, a relaxed smile stretching across his face.

Charles’s eyes narrowed. "You’re... offering those secrets?"

"I am," Juho confirmed flatly. "But of course, I expect certain conditions in return."

"What sort of conditions?"

"Let’s start with guaranteed protection," Juho said, rubbing his chin as if deep in thought.

Then he suddenly clapped his hand together like a bulb just popped over his head. "Oh! How about a guarantee that you’ll put him in jail along with his three sons for a very long time? A life sentence, let’s say. No appeals. No reduced time."

A contemptuous smirk curled on Charles’s lips. "How do I know I can trust anything you’re saying?"

"Are you sure you want to ask that, mate?" Juho raised a brow, smirking mischievously. "Because I have a feeling you’re going to regret it in a big way."

"Try me," Charles said coldly.

Juho slid a hand into the pocket of his robe, making Charles tense for a split second, before pulling out his phone and lifting it with an innocent smile.

After a few swipes, his expression shifted from focused to satisfied when he founded what he needed. He slid the phone across the coffee table toward Charles.

Charles shot him a distrustful look, eyes darting between the phone and Juho’s expectant face.

Still gripping the pistol, Charles stepped forward, scooped up the phone, then backed away to a safer distance.

A video was already in full-screen mode. The moment Charles pressed play, his eyes widened.

On the screen was the elegant face of the girl he knew, her honey-blonde hair striking against the black silky pajamas she wore.

She wasn’t alone. Two men stood in the empty room with her, their faces twisted in anger as they grabbed her wrist, yanked her back, and threw her to the floor.

Then came the boots slamming into her abdomen, kicking her back, stomping with merciless force.

"Avoid the hands and face," the man behind the camera instructed. "Good. Make her scream more. Make it look convincing, boys."

When she refused to scream, they yanked her up by her hair, and the kicks turned into punches.

The phone was immediately hurled onto the kitchen counter.