Chapter 97:
Grayson stepped out, nked by Daron McKnight and a team ofwyers. They were there for the patent infringement negotiation regarding the turbine specifications.
Isolde tried to straighten up. She couldn’t let them see her like this.
But the floor seemed to rush upward to meet her. Her vision grayed. The blueprints slipped from her numb fingers and unrolled across the polished concrete with a long, papery hiss.
She swayed, her eyes rolling back.
“Isolde!”
And’s voice.
He burst from his office just as her legs gave way, his arm sweeping under her shoulders and pulling her against his chest, catching her inches from the ground.
“Isolde? Hey, look at me.” His voice was tight with panic. He pressed a hand to her cheek. Her skin was cold and mmy.
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Isolde’s head fell back against his arm. She was conscious, but barely. The world had be a blur of fluorescent light and muffled sound.
Grayson stopped ten feet away. He stared at his ex-wife in another man’s arms.
His first instinct was to step forward. But Daron grabbed his elbow.
“Look at that,” Daron muttered, low and contemptuous. “Right on cue. We show up to talk money and she faints. She’s trying to dy the negotiation. Don’t fall for it.”
Grayson hesitated. He studied Isolde’s pale face. He didn’t see a fragile woman — he saw Sophia, the billion-dor engineer, deploying her body as a tactical weapon. He thought of Belle’s well-timed fainting spells, the ones that always seemed to ur in jewelry stores. Years of conditioning had taught him to read feminine fragility as currency, and now he saw Isolde spending it with the precision of a master strategist.
“Isolde,” Grayson said, his voice cold andmanding. “Enough with the theatrics. If you’re trying to avoid this meeting, just say so. Don’t waste our time.”
Isolde heard him. His voice came as if from underwater. Theatrics. He thought she was performing — not as a hysterical woman, but as a cunning opponent.
And looked up, his eyes zing with a fury that could have melted steel.
“Get away from her,” And said. “She’s cold. She’s shaking.”
“She’s a brilliant engineer, Roth,” Daron said. “She knows exactly what she’s doing. Don’t be a fool.”
And didn’t waste words. He lifted Isolde into his arms and stood. He turned his back on the SkyLine team.
“Meeting cancelled,” And said over his shoulder. “Get out of my building.”
He walked toward the elevators, stepping past Grayson without a nce.
As he passed, Grayson looked down at Isolde’s hand, dangling limply. It looked fragile. Too thin.
For a moment, doubt pierced through the conditioning. Her pallor seemed too genuine, her weakness too profound to be manufactured. She didn’t look like she was acting. She looked broken.
“Grayson,” Daron urged. “We have thewyers here. We can’t leave.”
“She’s fine,” Grayson said, pushing the doubt back down. “She’s tough. She’s just ying games.”
But as the elevator doors closed on And’s terrified face, a knot formed in Grayson’s stomach and refused to leave.
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