Chapter 447
Chapter 447:
“You still don’t get it,” she said. “I don’t want your money. And I certainly don’t want your protection p>
“You have nothing left!” Grayson snapped, losing his composure. “She took your brain trust p>
“She took my hands,” Isolde corrected. “She didn’t take the brain p>
She stepped closer, invading his personal space.
“I hope Belle is good at cryptography, Grayson,” she whispered. “Because those engineers? They don’t have the keys p>
Grayson frowned. “What keys p>
“Goodbye, Grayson,” Isolde said.
She signaled to Arland. They climbed into the silver BMW X7 and pulled away.
Grayson stood on the sidewalk, watching the taillights fade into the distance, a strange, unnameable unease coiling in his gut.
Belle’s car pulled up beside him. “Gray, get in! We’re celebrating at the Champagne Bar p>
𝗝oin 𝘁𝗁o𝘂𝘴а𝗇dѕ 𝗼𝖿 𝖿𝗮ns 𝗈𝗻
Grayson tossed his cigarette and crushed it under his shoe. “I’m not going. Enjoy the party yourself p>
Belle froze. “Why p>
“I’m tired,” Grayson said flatly. He got into his own car, leaving Belle standing there in disbelief.
Inside the BMW, the atmosphere was electric.
“Was that a bluff?” Arland asked from the passenger seat.
Isolde pulled a tablet from her bag and opened a secure app.
“The code they worked on is the intellectual property of Carson Dynamics,” Isolde said. “Tom and the others had Level 3 clearance — access to the interface code, the UI, the basic telemetry.” She tapped a red button on the screen: REVOKE ALL CERTIFICATES. “But the core physics engine? The proprietary flight control algorithms? That’s my personal IP, licensed to my own company. It lives on a separate server, encrypted with a key that changes every hour. And only I have the generator p>
“So what did they actually take?” Harper asked from the back seat.
“They took the dashboard,” Isolde said. “They have a pretty car with no engine p>
“And when they try to access the core to migrate it to InnoTech’s systems?” Arland asked, grinning.
Isolde tapped another button: INITIATE LOCKDOWN.
“They’re going to trigger a logic bomb,” she said. “It won’t corrupt the files on my server — it will simply brick their access permanently and wipe any local copies they downloaded. They’ll be left with terabytes of digital garbage p>
Arland threw his head back and laughed. “Belle just spent two million dollars on signing bonuses for engineers who now have access to absolutely nothing of value p>
“Drive,” Isolde said, looking out at the city lights. “We have a competition to win p>
Morning sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the R&D lab, casting a pale gold sheen over the metallic workbenches. The air hummed with the faint scent of lab equipment and the rich, bitter aroma of black coffee.
Belle strode into the core R&D zone, a steaming coffee cup in each hand, her stiletto heels clicking sharply against the floor. She was oozing confidence, fully expecting to walk in on a bustling scene of data import and technological takeover.
The sight before her snuffed out her smile instantly.