YR Spoilers Shock: Found it! Victor discovered that the burglar who broke into his room was…
Recent revelations on The Young and the Restless quietly chip away at one of Genoa City’s most enduring illusions: that Victor Newman is untouchable. He isn’t. History proves he has stumbled before—sometimes publicly, sometimes painfully—and the town remembers those moments even if Victor prefers to bury them beneath decades of dominance. Still, the more unsettling truth is that Victor wins far more often than he loses. His empire was never built on perfection, but on calculation, resilience, and a ruthless talent for turning setbacks into future leverage.
That imbalance is exactly why Billy Abbott’s plan to pull Phyllis Summers into the Abbott family’s counterstrike feels shaky from the outset. Even if Phyllis agrees to cooperate, Victor remains several steps ahead, protected by advantages that desperation alone can’t erase. The idea that Phyllis could simply reclaim the stolen artificial intelligence from the man she willingly handed it to borders on fantasy. Victor Newman does not misplace power, and he certainly doesn’t return it out of courtesy or clever persuasion.
Yet Phyllis believes she’s uncovered something others have missed. That belief hardens during her tense exchange with Victor at the ranch. In that moment, she becomes convinced that Jabot’s collapse was never collateral damage or an impulsive escalation—it was the objective. Victor’s calm tone and measured reassurance don’t read as restraint to her, but as proof of premeditation. She sees a man already surveying the ashes, planning what will rise next, and realizing her role was always smaller than she’d been led to believe.
That insight raises an unsettling question. Why would Victor bother soothing Phyllis at all if his goal is to bankrupt Jack Abbott and wipe Jabot off the map? If total destruction is the endgame, her promised reward becomes meaningless. There would be nothing left for her to influence or control. In that scenario, her usefulness would end the moment the damage was done. And yet Victor continues to reassure her, suggesting that annihilation isn’t the finale—just a transition.
Victor has never been satisfied with simple destruction. He prefers absorption, ownership, the quiet triumph of taking what others built and reshaping it under his own banner. Through that lens, a colder strategy emerges. Victor doesn’t need Jabot to survive intact. He only needs it weakened enough to be acquired for a fraction of its value—much like assets he’s swallowed before. Reduced to a shell, it becomes easy to claim and repurpose without resistance.
In that outcome, Victor gets everything. Jack is humiliated. The Abbott legacy is dismantled. A powerful company is folded into Newman Enterprises. And Phyllis technically still gets her payoff. She receives her slice of the deal she believes she earned—but from a company so stripped of identity and worth that the victory feels hollow. This is where Victor’s genius turns insidious. He can deliver something that looks like Jabot while ensuring it no longer carries its soul.
He can honor the letter of an agreement while betraying its spirit, all while reminding Phyllis of the truth she ignored from the start: they were never equals. There was no partnership, only convenience. Phyllis wanted to believe she was the exception—the one person who could bargain with Victor Newman and walk away unscathed. As events unfold, that belief looks increasingly dangerous.
Billy’s hope that Phyllis could act as a double agent, reclaiming the AI and undoing Victor’s advantage, underestimates both Victor’s foresight and Phyllis’s tendency to misjudge her leverage. Victor doesn’t need her loyalty. He only needs her confidence long enough to finish what he started. If Jabot falls far enough, Victor won’t just defeat the Abbotts—he’ll redefine the battlefield so completely that everyone involved is forced to play by his rules.
That’s often how Victor wins in Genoa City. He convinces his enemies they’ve gained something, only for them to realize too late that what they were handed no longer resembles what they fought for. Jack Abbott’s fears aren’t paranoia. They’re grounded in experience and the unmistakable sense that Victor never operates alone.
Jack knows someone is feeding Victor information from the inside—someone close enough to hear confidential strategy and fast enough to pass it along. What unsettles him most isn’t just the betrayal, but his inability to name it. The audience, however, has been given a vital clue through Michael Baldwin’s conversations with Victor. Michael once again casts loyalty as pragmatism, positioning himself as Victor’s indispensable fixer—even as he crosses lines his wife begged him not to cross.
Michael’s actions expose a painful contradiction. He professes devotion to Lauren Fenmore, yet repeatedly chooses Victor’s orbit. Working for Victor is never neutral. It demands moral compromise and selective blindness. Information leaks. Jack’s decision to shut down Jabot reaches Victor almost instantly. The result is swift and devastating.
The moment Victor learns of the shutdown, he quietly greenlights Adam Newman to unleash a smear campaign through Newman Media—timed perfectly to hijack the Abbott Communications launch. Optics are everything, and Victor strikes at maximum visibility. For Jack, the blow is visceral. Shock turns to fury as he realizes his protective moves have been twisted into proof of weakness.