Chapter 144

Chapter 144:

“I just did,” Isolde said, capping the stylus. “I derived the failure point in front of you. Now, Dr. Escobar — would you like to come up here and show us the patch?”

She held the pen out to Belle.

Belle stared at it. She stared at the board. The equations were foreign to her. A faint sheen of perspiration appeared at her temples.

“I don’t have to perform for you,” Belle stammered. “This is a boardroom, not a classroom.”

“Exactly,” Isolde said. “In a boardroom, we deal in facts. And the fact is — you’re a fraud.”

𝖭𝖾𝗐 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗀𝖺𝗅𝗇𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗌.𝖼𝗈𝗆

Grayson looked at the board. He looked at Belle, shrinking in her seat. The realization struck him like a physical blow. She doesn’t know. She didn’t design it. She never understood it.

He looked back at Isolde, commanding the room with complete authority, her mind a weapon he had thrown away.

“Isolde is right,” the Chief Engineer said quietly. “The math checks out. The InnoTech system is flawed.”

Grayson closed his eyes. “The InnoTech contract is suspended. We sign with Orbital.”

Belle gasped. “Gray!”

“Quiet,” Grayson snapped.

At that moment, the door burst open. Liam rushed in, his face ashen.

“Mr. Lancaster — emergency.”

Grayson rose. “What?”

“It’s Kaiden, sir. The school just called. He collapsed. Anaphylactic shock. He’s in the ambulance.”

Grayson’s face went white. “What? He doesn’t have allergies.”

“They said it was crab cakes, sir.”

Grayson froze. Seafood.

He looked at Isolde. She was gathering her things, her face composed and unreadable.

“Isolde,” Grayson said, his voice cracking. “You have to come. He asks for you when he’s sick. Please.”

Isolde paused. She looked at the man who had tormented her daughter. She looked at the woman who had tried to destroy her mother. Then she glanced at Belle.

“He has a mother,” Isolde said. “Let her go.”

“He needs you!” Grayson said.

Isolde looked at Arland. Arland gave a small nod. Go. End it.

“Fine,” Isolde said. “I’ll drive.”

The hospital waiting room was a wash of sterile white and the sharp smell of antiseptic.

Grayson paced the floor. Belle sat in a plastic chair, scrolling through her phone with an expression closer to annoyance than worry.

“He’s going to be fine, Gray,” Belle said. “Kids have allergies. It’s not a big deal.”

“He stopped breathing, Belle!” Grayson snapped. “How did you not know he was allergic to shellfish?”

“I’ve never fed him shellfish!”

The doctor came through the door. “Mr. Lancaster?”

“Yes?”

“He’s stable. It was a severe reaction. We’ll need to update his medical history. Does anyone in the family have a shellfish allergy? It’s often genetic.”

Grayson stopped pacing. “I do. Mild. My father does as well.”

The doctor nodded. “That would explain it. It’s a strong genetic marker.”

Isolde stood by the door, listening. Her eyes narrowed.

Genetic.

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.

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