Chapter 584
Chapter 584:
“You failed to account for the non-linear variation in atmospheric density,” she said, her voice calm and authoritative. “You ignored the drag coefficient in the third quadrant p>
Nelson stepped forward. His hands were trembling as he stared at the board. “It is perfect,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “A flawless closed loop. Sophia, you have never disappointed me p>
He turned to face her, his eyes bright. “NASA just handed me a blank check for a full-time director position on the new Mars initiative, and The Institute has already authorized the ten-million-dollar upfront signing bonus for your independent consultancy—it should be clearing your accounts this morning. Name your annual salary for a permanent role. Just come back to us p>
Isolde offered a small, polite smile and shook her head. “You know my current situation, Professor. I have Effie to raise, and I have Carson Dynamics to rebuild from the ground up p>
Nelson sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I understand. But I insist that you take full authorship credit for this formula when we publish p>
Outside the laboratory, in the dimly lit hallway, Grayson and Belle had just reached the observation window. The glass was thick, soundproof, and slightly tinted—they could see everything inside, but not hear a single word.
Belle pressed her hands against the glass. She saw Isolde standing near the whiteboard, the marker already dropped into its tray.
“See?” Belle sneered, turning to Grayson with an expression of utter vindication. “It is all a performance. She probably memorized that from some old textbook just to put on a show for these old men. It is pathetic p>
Grayson narrowed his eyes. A cold knot of regret formed deep in his stomach.
Jo𝘪𝘯 𝗍𝘩е с𝗼𝗆m𝘂𝗻іtу аt
He studied the faces of the scientists inside. They were not looking at Isolde like she was a performer. They were looking at her with absolute, unfiltered reverence. Nelson’s face was radiant with admiration.
Grayson’s chest tightened, a sharp, painful ache spreading through his ribs. He thought suddenly of the heavy, leather-bound textbook he had found in the trash at their penthouse years ago—Advanced Astrophysics. He had assumed it was a prop, that she was trying to look intelligent for his benefit, and he had mocked her for it. The memory scorched him with shame.
“Belle,” Grayson said, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous register. “Shut your mouth. And just watch p>
Belle huffed and crossed her arms. “There is nothing to watch. We need to go inside and find Nelson. I do not have time for this p>
Inside the lab, Isolde felt a prickle of awareness at the back of her neck.
She slowly turned her head and looked directly at the observation window. Even through the tinted glass, her eyes locked precisely onto Grayson’s. Her gaze was devoid of emotion—cold, sharp, and entirely indifferent. It felt like a blade sliding cleanly between his ribs.
Nelson noticed her distraction. He followed her line of sight to the two figures standing in the hallway, then picked up a fresh manila folder from the desk and handed it to Isolde.