Chapter 191
Chapter 191:
Her phone vibrated on the table. A text from Ellyn: Union rep is here. They’re threatening to strike if we don’t guarantee wages by Friday.
If she took this consulting role — diving deep into a new and complex project — Carson Dynamics would collapse within a week. Grayson would pick over the carcass, buying the patents for pennies on the dollar. Her mother would be left with nothing. Her uncle Saul would die watching his life’s work destroyed.
She looked at the envelope. Freedom. Respect. The sky.
She looked at the phone. Duty. Family. The mud.
Isolde pushed the envelope back across the table.
“I can’t,” she said. Her voice was steady, but her heart was breaking.
𝗔𝖽𝗱𝗂c𝗍𝗶𝘃𝖾 𝗻ov𝘦𝘭ѕ 𝘰ո
Vance frowned. “Isolde. Opportunities like this don’t come twice. You’re choosing chaos over greatness p>
“I’m choosing loyalty,” Isolde said. “My family is under attack. I can’t desert them p>
Vance sighed and took the envelope back. “We’ll hold the position for two weeks — because Nelson insists. But after that, the door closes p>
“Thank you,” Isolde whispered.
She watched him leave. Then she stood. She had to fix this. Now.
She walked out of the coffee shop and hailed a cab. “Lancaster Tower p>
Twenty minutes later, she stood before the glass monolith that Grayson called his headquarters. She used to walk in here and be greeted like royalty.
She approached the front desk. The receptionist was new — young and bored.
“I’m Isolde Lancaster. I need to see Grayson Lancaster,” Isolde said, her voice firm.
The girl didn’t look up from her nails. “Do you have an appointment p>
“My access card should still be active,” Isolde said coolly. “Just tell him I’m on my way up p>
The girl typed something, her eyes widening slightly. “Mr. Lancaster is in a meeting. He can’t be disturbed p>
“I’m not here for a social call,” Isolde said, her voice dropping. “This is a time-sensitive financial matter concerning the Lancaster Trust. You can either let me up, or you can explain to Beatrice Lancaster why a board-level issue was delayed by your manicure p>
The girl’s face went pale. She fumbled with her keyboard. “One moment, Mrs. Lancaster p>
Isolde didn’t wait. She strode toward the executive elevators, her composure a weapon. The receptionist didn’t dare stop her.
She reached the top floor. Liam, Grayson’s executive assistant, intercepted her as the doors opened. He looked harried.
“Mrs. Lancaster?” he asked. “What are you doing here? He’s — he’s in a meeting p>
“Is he?” Isolde asked, her eyes moving over the empty office behind him. “Or has he been out of the building for the last three hours p>
She wasn’t asking. She was stating — a calculated guess designed to put him on the defensive.
Liam glanced back toward the empty corner office, then back at Isolde.
“He’s not here, ma’am,” Liam admitted quietly. “He left at two p>
Isolde felt the blood rush to her head. She turned to look out the panoramic window at the city below.
“And the receptionist was instructed to lie?” she said.
Liam shifted uncomfortably. “He’s at the InnoTech facility. For the ribbon cutting p>