Chapter 369
Across the room, Grayson and Belle registered who had just walked in. They abandoned their circle of investors and moved quickly across the floor to greet him. Grayson looked genuinely stunned, though unmistakably honored. He extended his hand.
“Professor Nelson!” Grayson said, pitching his voice for the surrounding crowd. “What an absolute surprise. We are honored.”
Belle stood tall beside him, chest lifted, beaming. She clearly believed that her genius designs had drawn the legendary academic out of his reclusive shell.
Professor Nelson stopped. He leaned on his cane and let his gaze travel slowly around the massive, glittering room. He ignored Grayson’s outstretched hand entirely.
“Loud,” Nelson said. His voice was a dry, gravelly rasp that carried perfectly in the sudden quiet. “Ostentatious. Typical.”
Grayson withdrew his hand, an awkward smile frozen on his face. “We are honored you came, regardless.”
Nelson turned his sharp, hawkish eyes onto Grayson. “I heard rumors of a revolutionary design. I came to verify whether the math matches the marketing.”
Belle stepped eagerly forward, planting herself directly in Nelson’s line of sight. “Professor! I’m Belle Escobar — the lead architect for InnoTech.” She smiled, projecting what she imagined was academic camaraderie. “I actually cited your foundational work on fluid dynamics in my master’s thesis.”
Nelson lowered his chin slowly and looked at her over the rim of his thick spectacles.
T𝗁е 𝘣е𝘴𝗍 𝗋е𝖺𝗱i𝘯g eхp𝗲𝗿𝗶e𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗻 g𝖺𝗹𝗻𝗈𝗏е𝗅𝘴.𝘤о𝗺
“Have you?” His tone was utterly flat.
Belle nodded. “Yes, extensively.”
“Then you must know,” Nelson said, his voice dropping to a quiet, lethal register, “that copying a formula onto a piece of paper is not the same thing as understanding it.”
Belle’s smile stiffened instantly. The color drained from her cheeks. “Excuse me?”
Nelson ignored her. He lifted his heavy wooden cane and waved it dismissively toward the large, glowing 3D models of the InnoTech modules displayed near the stage. “Show me the data. Not the pretty pictures. Show me the structural load algorithms.”
Grayson quickly turned to Daron, who hovered nearby. “Daron, bring the technical schematics to the display area. Now.”
Behind the marble pillar, Isolde watched with her heart hammering so hard she could feel the pulse in her throat.
Looking at the old man, she was struck by a wave of sensory memory — Nelson’s cramped office at the Institute, the sharp smell of chalk dust, the bitter bite of black coffee. And then the harder memory: the day she left. The profound, crushing disappointment in his eyes when she told him she was getting married and leaving the program.
Arland leaned close, whispering over her shoulder. “He’s going to eat them alive.”
Isolde gripped the cold marble edge of the pillar. “Or,” she whispered, her stomach twisting, “he’s going to realize who actually did the work.”
Nelson turned and moved toward the display models. Belle trailed closely behind him, looking like a panicked, desperate puppy.
The Technical Display Area occupied a quieter alcove of the hall, set apart from the noise and illuminated by harsh, bright spotlights.
.