Chapter 22:


    Grayson kicked it. It skittered across the floor, hitting the wall with a lonely ck.


    He went to the living room and poured himself a scotch. His hands were shaking slightly.


    Why did the apartment feel so big? It was 4,000 square feet. It had always been 4,000 square feet. But tonight, it felt like a cavern.


    He sat on the couch where Belle had sat earlier. He tried to summon the image of Belle’s smile, herpetence, her ambition.


    But all he could see was Isolde’s face through the ss wall of his office. The way she had dropped that badge. The way she had looked at him like he was a stranger.


    He took a drink. It burned.


    “You’lle crawling back,” he whispered to the dark room. “You always do.”


    But for the first time, he wasn’t sure.


    The Javits Center was a hive of activity. The Aerospace Expo was the biggest event of the year, a yground for billionaires and defense contractors.


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    Isolde walked through the main entrance. She wore a navy blue pantsuit, sharp and tailored. Her hair was pulled back in a severe bun. She looked professional. Dangerous.


    Effie walked beside her, holding her hand. She had a slight, almost imperceptible limp, the only lingering sign of the stitches hidden beneath her stockings. She looked around with wide, curious eyes, pointing at the turbine models hanging from the ceiling.


    “That’s a high-pressurepressor!” Effie chirped.


    A passing engineer stopped and stared. “She’s five? How does she know that?”


    Isolde smiled. “She reads.”


    They approached the security checkpoint.


    “Invitation only,” the guard said, blocking their path.


    Isolde pulled anyard from her purse. It wasn’t a guest pass. It was a ck card with a silver chip.


    VIP — Strategic Consultant — Roth Aeronautics.


    The guard scanned it. The light turned green.


    “Go right ahead, ma’am.”


    They walked into the main hall.


    In the center, dominating the space, was the SkyLine Technologies booth. It was massive, sleek, and white. A huge object was covered by a velvet tarp in the middle.


    Grayson was standing in front of it, holding court with a group of reporters. He looked dashing in his tuxedo.


    Belle was beside him, wearing a shimmering silver gown that looked like liquid metal. She was beaming, soaking up the camera shes.


    Kaiden was there too, bored, kicking the base of the disy.


    Isolde stopped at the edge of the crowd.


    Kaiden looked up. He saw Effie.


    “Hey!” he shouted, pointing a finger. “Look! The bastard is here!”


    The chatter stopped. Heads turned. Cameras swung around.


    Grayson froze. He looked up and saw Isolde.


    His face went pale. Then red.


    “Don’t film the children!” he barked at the press, stepping in front of Kaiden.


    Isolde didn’t hide. She took off her sunsses. She stared straight into the lenses of the cameras.


    Belle marched over, her heels clicking aggressively.


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