From A Producer To A Global Superstar-Chapter 295: Sudden news

Dayo didn’t finish his food or more like he couldn’t.

He sat at the small dining table in his apartment, the spoon hovering halfway between the bowl and his mouth, eyes fixed on his phone. The screen glowed softly, showing an article he had opened without thinking one of those headlines that didn’t need exaggeration to hurt.

LUNA WELCOMES BABY GIRL — FATHER UNKNOWN

He read it once.

Then again.

Then slowly set the spoon down.

For a long moment, he didn’t react. No sharp inhale. No curse. No dramatic shift in posture. Just stillness complet stillness. The kind that settled in when something you’d always known was possible finally became real.

So it’s true, he thought.

He scrolled.

Photos followed blurry hospital images taken from too far away, Luna’s face partially obscured, exhaustion clear even through the grain. Another photo showed only her hand, delicate fingers curled around something small.

And there were other picture of her wearing baggy clothes in order not to reveal the pregnancy.

The baby.

Dayo leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

He didn’t feel angry.

He didn’t feel betrayed.

What he felt was heavier than that.

A dull ache settled in his chest, spreading slowly, like it had all the time in the world. Somewhere between regret and acceptance. Somewhere between "I knew this would happen" and "I still wasn’t ready."

He had always known Luna wouldn’t wait forever.

And yet some small, selfish part of him had imagined she might.

Wait.

But here was the result of his uncontrollable urge for desire.

He exhaled and rubbed his face with one hand.

That would have been cruel, he admitted to himself. To expect her to stay suspended in his shadow, paused, untouched by time, while he lived freely, made mistakes freely, chased ambition freely.

He had been the one who failed her.

He had been the one who didn’t fight when she asked to leave.

Not because he didn’t love her but because he knew himself well enough to know that loving her wasn’t enough to keep him from hurting her again.

So he let her go.

And now she had a child.

Good, he thought, forcing the word to sit right in his mind. Good.

He hoped she was happy.

The article went on speculation, theories, industry gossip. Commentators questioning how someone so private could "slip." Fans split between disappointment and concern. Analysts talking about image damage, contracts, brand alignment.

Dayo closed the app.

He didn’t want to know any of that.

What mattered was simple.

Luna was a mother now.

And whoever the father was it wasn’t his place to wonder.

That thought never crossed his mind. Not even for a second.

He stood up, carried the untouched bowl to the sink, and rinsed it clean.

Life moved forward at least he convinced himself that.

****

The hospital room was quiet.

Luna sat propped up against the pillows, her arms cradling a small, warm weight against her chest. The baby slept peacefully, tiny fingers curled into the fabric of Luna’s gown, breathing slow and steady.

She looked down and smiled.

It wasn’t the kind of smile she showed on stage or in interviews. It was more genuine the most genuine a soft smile can ever be a smile from a mother ro a daughter.

"You’re so calm," she whispered. "Like you already understand everything."

The baby shifted slightly, lips pursing, then settled again.

Luna brushed her thumb gently across the child’s cheek.

Deborah stood near the window, arms folded loosely, watching them with a soft expression she rarely allowed herself in public.

"She’s beautiful," Deborah said quietly.

Luna nodded. "She is."

There was a pause.

Deborah hesitated before speaking again. "The label called. Again."

Luna didn’t look up. "I figured."

"They want a statement. Or at least a direction. They’re worried the silence is making things worse."

Luna let out a slow breath.

"They always think silence is a problem."

"They’re threatening to freeze promotions," Deborah continued carefully. "Worst case... contract termination."

Luna’s grip tightened slightly around her daughter.

"I know."

Deborah stepped closer. "You don’t have to decide everything today."

"I do," Luna replied softly. "Because every day I don’t decide, they decide for me."

She shifted the baby gently, making sure she was comfortable, then looked up at Deborah.

"I’m not giving them his name."

Deborah nodded. She had expected that answer.

"They think it would calm the storm," Deborah said. "Put a face to the mystery."

"It would feed it," Luna replied. "And I won’t do that."

Deborah studied her for a moment, then sighed. "You’re really serious about walking away."

"Maybe," Luna said. "I haven’t signed anything yet."

"But you’re thinking about it."

"Yes."

She looked back down at the baby, eyes softening.

"I don’t regret my career," she continued. "But I won’t let it consume her. I won’t let my child grow up as a headline."

The baby stirred again, blinking slowly as if waking into the world for the first time.

Deborah smiled faintly. "She has your eyes."

Luna stiffened.

"No," Deborah added quickly. "I mean—"

"She has his eyes," Luna said quietly.

Blue. Clear. Unmistakable.

Deborah caught the shift in her expression immediately. "Sorry. I shouldn’t have—"

"It’s fine," Luna interrupted. "You’re not wrong."

There was a long pause.

Deborah hesitated, then spoke again, more carefully this time.

"Luna... don’t you think he should know?"

Luna looked up sharply.

"Know what?"

"That he has a daughter."

Silence filled the room.

Luna looked back down at the baby, her jaw tightening.

"Why?" she asked.

Deborah swallowed. "Because... because he deserves the truth."

Luna’s gaze hardened, though her voice remained calm.

"Deserves it?" she repeated. "After four years of silence? After choosing his life and leaving me to pick up the pieces?"

"That’s not fair," Deborah said gently. "You know he loved you."

"He did," Luna agreed. "And he also left."

Deborah sighed. "People grow. He might be different now."

"And I might be protecting him," Luna replied. "From responsibility he didn’t ask for. From a life he wasn’t prepared to change."

She looked down at her daughter again.

"And I’m protecting her. From confusion. From instability. From being dragged into something she didn’t choose."

Deborah watched her quietly.

"You still love him," Deborah said.

Luna didn’t deny it.

"Love doesn’t mean access," she said softly. "And it doesn’t mean entitlement."

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead.

"For now," Luna continued, "this is enough."

Deborah nodded slowly.

"I’ll stand with you," she said. "Whatever you decide."

Luna exhaled, grateful.

Then—

Her phone rang.

The sound cut through the room sharply, unexpected.

Luna frowned and reached for it, glancing at the screen.

Her breath caught.

She didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, she lifted the phone slightly and turned it so Deborah could see.

Deborah’s eyes widened.

The name on the screen read:

Dayo.