Chapter 90:


    The sound of indrawn breath moved through the crowd like a current. Conversations stopped. The music seemed to fade.


    Daron froze mid-lunge, hand suspended in the air. He stared at her face and saw her eyes — utterly still, the eyes of someone who had nothing left to lose and everything to gain.


    Grayson pushed through the crowd. “Isolde! What the hell are you doing?”


    “Defending myself,” Isolde said, without looking away from Daron. “Since my husband won’t.”


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    “Security!” Grayson shouted. “Get her out of here! She’s drunk! She’s out of her mind!”


    Tworge guards began moving toward her.


    And stepped directly into their path. “Touch her and you’ll be answering to me.”


    Isolde lifted a silk napkin from the table and delicately wiped an imaginary speck of wine from her hand.


    “Grayson,” she said, her voice ringing clear across the room. “Your associate insulted my honor. I simply corrected him.”


    “You’re insane,” Grayson hissed, his face drained of color. “You’ve ruined the entire evening.”


    “No,” a deep, gravelly voice called from the entrance to the hall. “She just made it interesting.”


    The crowd parted.


    An old man with wild white hair and a cane walked forward. He wore a tuxedo that was twenty years out of fashion, but he carried it like a king.


    Professor Eldridge Nelson. The god of aerospace engineering.


    Professor Nelson stopped in front of the group. He looked at Daron, dripping with wine. He looked at Isolde’s unshaking hands. Then he looked at Isolde.


    Grayson immediately switched into damage control mode. He smoothed his jacket and forced a smile.


    “Professor Nelson! I am so sorry you had to witness this. My ex-wife is having a breakdown. Very tragic. We were just escorting her out.”


    Daron wiped wine from his eyes. “Yeah, she attacked me! She’spletely unhinged!”


    Nelson ignored them both. He tapped his cane once on the floor.


    “Breakdown?” Nelson mused, studying Isolde. “Herposure was perfect. Her argument precise. That wasn’t a breakdown, Mr. Lancaster. That was a tactical response.”


    Grayson blinked. “Excuse me?”


    “You remember her?” Grayson asked, bewildered. “From where? The PTA?”


    Nelson let out a bark ofughter. “The PTA? Boy, this woman was the brightest student ever to walk through the doors of The Institute. Until she dropped out to marry…” He looked at Grayson with undisguised disappointment. “Well, to marry a suit.”


    Belle pushed forward, sensing the spotlight shifting. “Professor, I’m Belle Escobar. I’m taking over the Phoenix project at SkyLine. I’d love to get your thoughts on the aerodynamic stability of the—”


    Nelson cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Phoenix? You mean the X7 prototype?”


    “Yes!” Belle beamed. “My design.”


    “Your design,” Nelson repeated dryly. “Tell me, Ms. Escobar — how did you solve the thermal expansion issue on the intake manifold at Mach 2?”


    Belle froze. “The… thermal… well, we used a special alloy.”


    “Which one?” Nelson pressed. “Titanium? Inconel? Or did you simply paint it silver and hope for the best?”


    Belle stammered. “The engineering team handles the specifics.”


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