Chapter 235
Chapter 235:
Belle turned around with a glass of champagne already in her hand, feigning an expression of shocked sympathy.
“Oh, my,” Belle said, loudly enough to carry. “Isolde, I’m so sorry. The guest list must not have been updated. Perhaps your new role isn’t quite recognized by the SkyLine PR team. After all, you only ever attended these things as a plus-one wife.”
Grayson stood a few feet away. He turned at the sound of Belle’s voice.
His eyes locked onto Isolde.
His breath hitched. The red fabric traced her figure in a way that made something visceral and unbidden rise in his chest. She looked stunning. She looked untouchable. A violent, primal urge flared in him to cross the floor and pull her inside — followed swiftly by a colder, more analytical thought: her presence, so unexpected, could be either a disaster or a strategic advantage, depending on how he played it.
𝘛he 𝗯𝖾𝘀t rеa𝖽𝗶n𝗴 𝗲xре𝗋i𝖾𝗇𝘤𝗲 𝗈𝘯 𝘨a𝗅n𝘰𝘃𝘦ls.сo𝘮
But Belle’s grip on his arm tightened, anchoring him in place.
Arland stepped smoothly in front of Isolde. He reached into his breast pocket and produced a heavy, gold-plated VIP card.
“She is my business partner,” Arland said, his voice cold enough to freeze water. “Is there a problem with my credentials?”
The guard looked at the card and stepped aside immediately. “No, sir. Please go ahead.”
Isolde walked past the guards. She walked past Belle without so much as a blink in her direction.
Inside the grand ballroom, crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the assembled elite.
Isolde and Arland were escorted to the main VIP table. Isolde pulled out her chair and went still.
Sitting directly across the round table, separated only by a centerpiece of white orchids, were Grayson and Belle.
Grayson stared at her. His knuckles were white around his water glass.
Before anyone could speak, an older man with silver hair and wire-rimmed glasses approached the table.
Nathaniel Cross. The guest of honor — a titan in the venture capital world.
Arland rose immediately, extending a hand. “Mr. Cross. It’s an honor. I’d like to introduce you to Isolde Carson, the core consultant for our new thruster project.”
Nathaniel didn’t take Arland’s hand.
He pushed his glasses up his nose, his eyes moving from Isolde to Arland and then settling on Grayson across the table. He remembered the auction. He had read the gossip columns.
His face darkened with profound disapproval.
“Mr. Roth,” Nathaniel said, his voice carrying clearly over the hum of the room. “I respect your engineering talent. But I place a far higher premium on the moral character of my partners.”
Arland lowered his hand slowly. “Excuse me? What do you mean?”
Nathaniel directed a pointed look at Isolde. “Bringing the ex-wife of your direct competitor to a professional gala? Leveraging tabloid scandals for PR? It is a cheap, low-class tactic.”
Isolde’s chest caved in. The air left her lungs.
He believed the rumors. He had reduced her to a socialite using men to climb the ladder.
.
.
.