Chapter 557
Chapter 557:
She wore a white suit — sharp, tailored, and immaculate. Her hair was pulled back in a severe, high ponytail. And on her face, in stark contrast to the pristine white of her jacket, was the bandage covering the cut on her cheek. A stark, unadorned slash against her skin. She wore no sunglasses. She made no attempt to angle her good side toward the cameras.
The shutters erupted. The sound was like a swarm of something furious and relentless.
“Ms. Carson! What happened to your face?”
“Is that related to the arrest report?”
𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝗼𝗻 𝗴𝗮𝗹𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘀.𝗰𝗼𝗺
“Did Grayson Lancaster—”
Isolde stopped. She turned and looked directly into the nearest camera lens.
“This,” she said, her voice clear and steady, amplified by the boom microphones pressing in around her, “is the price of standing up to bullies. Ask Cheryl Juarez.”
She didn’t smile. She let the image burn.
Near the entrance, Grayson felt his stomach drop. She wasn’t hiding it. She was wearing it like war paint.
Belle seized Daron’s arm, her voice hissing beneath the noise. “She’s doing it on purpose. She’s trying to destroy me.”
“Ignore her,” Daron said, his sneer intact. “She looks like a victim. Investors hate victims. They love winners.”
Isolde walked the red carpet with her arm linked through Arland’s. As she passed Grayson, she did not blink, did not hesitate, did not register his presence in any visible way. He might as well have been a fixture of the building.
Inside the main hall, the air conditioning was freezing.
Director Sterling from United Airlines was deep in conversation with a group of engineers when he spotted Isolde. He broke away immediately, his expression shifting when he saw the injury.
“Isolde,” he said. “My god. Should you even be here?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” she replied.
“We were just discussing the X7-B,” Sterling said. “Daron is claiming the design is fully proprietary.”
Daron and Belle materialized at the edge of the group. Daron stepped forward, positioning himself squarely in Isolde’s path.
“It is,” he said. “The original concept couldn’t handle re-entry stresses. Our version can. That’s well above the pay grade of a former academic.”
A few people in the group chuckled, the sound uncertain and slightly uncomfortable.
Isolde looked at Daron. Then at Belle.
“Proprietary,” she said calmly. “Or nonexistent?”
Daron leaned in slightly. “Careful, honey. Slander is expensive.”
“So is ignorance,” Isolde replied.
The hall lights dimmed. A voice carried over the speakers, smooth and authoritative.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats. The presentation of the Phoenix-X7-B will begin shortly.”
Belle smoothed her dress and fixed Isolde with a look of pure, concentrated venom.
“Watch and learn,” she whispered.
Isolde settled into her seat in the front row and opened her laptop.
“I intend to,” she said.
The host’s voice rang through the grand hall with practiced enthusiasm. “And now, to open our keynote session, please welcome the CEO of Sterling Airlines — a true titan of the industry — Director Sterling!”
Applause filled the room as a distinguished man in a sharp suit took the stage. His opening remarks were brief and pointed, celebrating innovation while cautioning against spectacle. “The sky is not a laboratory,” he concluded. “It demands perfection.”
.
.
.