Chapter 88

Chapter 88:

Isolde’s phone buzzed. A text from Arland.

Professor Nelson is the keynote speaker tomorrow. He’s asking about the ‘mystery engineer’ who fixed my turbine specs. This is your chance.

Isolde looked at Stone, then at the message.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll go.”

That night, in the Tribeca apartment, Isolde stood before the mirror.

She didn’t choose black. Black was for mourning.

She chose red.

A crimson gown, structured and sharp, with a neckline that plunged just enough to be dangerous. It was the color of blood, of warning signs, of fire.

𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗶𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝗴𝗲𝗺𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗴𝗮𝗹𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹𝘀.𝗰𝗼𝗺

Effie sat on the bed, clutching her teddy bear. “Mommy, you look like a superhero.”

Isolde applied a coat of lipstick that matched the dress precisely.

“I am, baby,” she said. “I’m going to fight the bad guys.”

The Institute Gala was the event of the season for the aerospace industry. It was held at the Met, the Temple of Dendur bathed in soft blue light. Waiters circulated with champagne flutes, and the air buzzed with talk of government contracts and propulsion systems.

Grayson stood near the entrance, checking his watch. He looked impeccable in a tuxedo, but his eyes darted nervously around the room. Belle stood beside him in a pale blue dress that looked suspiciously similar to one Isolde had worn two years prior. She was smiling, but her grip on Grayson’s arm was claw-like. Daron McKnight held court nearby with a cluster of junior investors, laughing too loudly.

“She’s not coming,” Belle whispered. “She knows she doesn’t belong here.”

“She’ll come,” Grayson muttered. “She has to.”

Then the room went quiet. A ripple of silence started at the doors and spread inward.

Isolde walked in.

She wasn’t alone. She was on the arm of Arland Roth.

The red dress was a shock to the system in a sea of black ties and navy gowns. She moved with a fluid, predatory grace, her hair swept back to reveal her neck and shoulders. She looked regal. Untouchable.

Cameras flashed.

Grayson felt his breath catch. He had never seen her like this. In his mind, she was soft, pliable, fading into the background. This woman was vivid.

Belle made a small, strangled sound. “Why is she with him?”

Isolde and Arland walked straight toward them — not to greet them, but because they were blocking the path to the main hall.

“Isolde.” Grayson stepped forward, producing his best CEO smile. “You made it. You look…”

“Expensive?” Isolde finished for him. “I know.”

She didn’t stop. She moved to walk past him.

Grayson grabbed her elbow. “Where do you think you’re going? Our table is this way.”

Isolde looked at his hand until he released her. “I’m not sitting at your table, Grayson. I’m here with Orbital. As their Chief Engineer.”

Daron snorted into his drink. “Chief Engineer? That’s a good one. Last I checked, your degree was in event planning. Are you going to re-engineer the canapés?”

A few people nearby chuckled nervously.

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