Chapter 215:


    “Youngdy,” he said softly, “there are some things money simply cannot buy. ss and a sense of decency are chief among them.”


    Belle’s face turned a violent shade of crimson. She gasped and looked at Grayson for support. “Gray! Are you going to let him talk to me like that?”


    But Grayson didn’t defend her. A suffocating pressure had settled in his chest. He looked at the vase again, and the blue ze no longer looked beautiful. It looked like a bruise — Isolde’s shattered heart reflected in the ceramic.


    Daron, sensing the PR disaster taking shape, stepped in smoothly. “Mr. Cross, business is business. Grayson’s intentions were purely phnthropic. The proceeds go to charity, after all.”


    Nathaniel let out a sharp, humorless breath. “I can only hope that such a masterpiece does not gather dust in hands too dirty to appreciate its meaning.”


    Without another word, he turned and walked out of the gallery.


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    Grayson stared at the retreating figure, gripping the fountain pen so hard the casing groaned under the pressure.


    “Gray?” Belle asked, her voice small and uncertain. “Are we still buying it?”


    Grayson was silent for a long beat. The victory tasted like ash. But the eyes of the room were on him, and he couldn’t retreat now.


    “Yes,” he said, his voice like grinding stone. “The bid is ced. We don’t renege on a contract.”


    He scrawled the final flourish of his signature, but as he did, he felt as though he were signing a confession rather than a check.


    Meanwhile, in the parking lot, the atmosphere was entirely different.


    Isolde was carefully buckling Effie into her seat, her movements methodical and calm. And leaned against the car door, watching her closely.


    “Are you alright?”


    Isolde paused. She wiped a single stray tear from the corner of her eye before it could fall, then drew a slow breath, her expression hardening into something imprable.


    “I’m fine. If anything, this has made things clearer. Grayson isn’t just a bastard — he’s a blind one. He has no idea what he’s actually holding.”


    Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out expecting a message from the gallery, but it was a priority red-g alert from the CyberNet server farm.


    CRITICAL SYSTEM ANOMALY. SATELLITE ARRAY 4. URGENT INTERVENTION REQUIRED.


    Isolde’s eyes sharpened instantly. The grief vanished, reced by a cold, predatory focus. The adrenaline hit her like a lightning strike.


    “And, forget the house. Take me to CyberNet,” she said, her voice turning to steel. “I have work to do.”


    And looked surprised. “Now? Isolde, you’ve had a hell of a day. You need to rest.”


    “Work is the only thing I can truly control right now,” she replied, her gaze fixed on the alert scrolling across her screen. “I’m going to remind everyone — Grayson included — that I am far more than just a Lancaster ex-wife.”


    From the backseat, Effie pumped her small fist in the air. “Go, Mommy! Beat the bad guys!”


    Isolde let out a short, genuineugh — the first of the day. “That’s the n, baby.”


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