Chapter 362
“Then we reveal the SkyLine version,” Isolde said. “The Carson Dynamics version. The one that actually works. We expose their fatal flaw in front of the entire world.”
Arland’s mouth slowly curved into a vicious, predatory smile. “You want to bait them into a public failure.”
“I want to humiliate them,” Isolde corrected. “Publicly. Irreversibly. I want to salt the earth so nothing Grayson Lancaster builds ever grows again.” She straightened. “Get me the InnoTech permit schedule.”
Arland pulled out his tablet and typed furiously, hacking into the city’s public registry queue. “They are applying for their master business and zoning licenses today,” he said. “At City Hall. In person, for the photo op.”
Isolde walked to the coat rack and pulled on her sleek black trench coat, drawing the belt tight around her waist. “Perfect.”
“Where are you going?” Arland asked, alarmed. “Isolde, don’t do anything illegal.”
She paused by the door and caught her reflection in the glass panel. Her eyes were dark and merciless.
𝖱e𝘢𝘥 𝗳𝗋o𝗺 у𝗈𝘂𝘳 𝗽𝗁𝗼𝗻e 𝗼ո g𝗮ln𝗈𝗏𝗲𝗹𝘴.с𝗼𝗺
“I’m just going to say hello,” she said softly.
She opened the door and walked out. She was no longer the grieving mother. She was no longer the discarded wife. She was the architect of their destruction.
City Hall was a labyrinth of marble floors, echoing ceilings, and the soul-crushing bureaucracy of the Department of Buildings.
The main hall was packed. Contractors in dusty boots stood in long lines, clutching rolls of blueprints, waiting for a clerk to stamp their futures.
Isolde walked through the heavy brass doors and bypassed the crowds without slowing. She wasn’t here to apply for anything.
She was here to hunt.
She scanned the vast room. It didn’t take long to find them.
Grayson and Belle were standing at the VIP counter — the express lane reserved for billionaires and high-value developers. Belle was wearing a pristine white Chanel suit, leaning over the mahogany counter and signing a stack of thick documents with a gold fountain pen. She tossed her hair back for the private photographer Grayson had brought to document the moment.
Isolde moved silently across the marble floor and approached from behind.
“It’s official, Gray!” Belle squealed, throwing her arms up. “InnoTech is born!”
Grayson smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He looked exhausted, the dark circles beneath them heavy and bruised.
“Congratulations,” Isolde said.
Her voice cut through the noise of the hall like a razor. Both of them spun around.
Belle gasped. The gold fountain pen slipped from her fingers and clattered onto the marble floor.
Grayson’s body went rigid. He stepped slightly in front of Belle — a protective instinct he couldn’t suppress.
“Isolde,” he said, his voice tight. “What are you doing here?”
“Just admiring the audacity,” Isolde said, crossing her arms over her trench coat.
She stepped toward the counter and looked down at the glossy printed blueprints Belle had just signed. “Nice renders, Belle.” Her eyes flicked up to meet the other woman’s terrified gaze. “They look incredibly familiar.”
Belle moved quickly, stepping in front of the papers and using her body to block the view.
.
.