Chapter 395
Chapter 395:
Belle let out a high, barking laugh that echoed off the high ceiling. “Business?” she mocked, stepping closer, invading Isolde’s space. “You don’t have a business anymore. Mr. Henderson is already mine p>
A cold sweat broke out on the back of Arland’s neck. He stepped forward, ready to intervene — but Isolde raised a single, rigid finger to stop him.
She said nothing more to Belle. She simply sidestepped the woman in red and walked straight toward the glass-walled conference rooms lining the east wing.
She pushed open the heavy glass door to Room 4.
𝖩оі𝗻 𝘰ur 𝗰о𝘮m𝘶𝗻𝗂𝘵𝘆 о𝗇
Mr. Henderson, the top titanium supplier on the East Coast, was pacing behind the long table — a heavy-set man, sweating profusely through his expensive dress shirt. He stopped the moment Isolde walked in. He looked guilty.
“Ms. Carson,” Henderson said, his voice cracking slightly. He pressed a handkerchief to his forehead. “Things have changed p>
Isolde pulled out a leather chair and sat down slowly, placing her black briefcase on the table. “We have a verbal agreement, Mr. Henderson,” she said. Her voice was steady, but she allowed a faint tremor of urgency to bleed into her tone. “Fifty tons of aerospace-grade titanium. Delivery by Friday p>
Henderson swallowed hard. He glanced at his phone on the table. The screen lit up.
Isolde saw the notification banner — a wire transfer confirmation from InnoTech’s primary banking institution.
“InnoTech raised the bid,” Henderson blurted out, unable to meet her eyes. “Fifteen percent over market value. Paid in full. Upfront p>
Isolde drew a sharp, audible breath. Her hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles turning bone-white.
“Fifteen percent?” Her voice rose in pitched disbelief — a flawless performance of a CEO watching her company die. “That is financial suicide. We can match a five percent increase. That is my absolute ceiling p>
Henderson shook his head and shoved his phone into his pocket, already backing toward the door. “It is not just about the money, Ms. Carson. It is about stability. Grayson Lancaster backs InnoTech. You are a startup p>
He didn’t wait for a counter-offer. He practically ran out of the room.
Isolde sat alone at the long table. The silence settled heavily around her.
The glass door creaked open. Belle leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking down at Isolde with absolute triumph. “See?” she sneered. “You have no leverage. You have nothing p>
Isolde looked down at her briefcase and reached for the zipper. Her hands began to tremble — a controlled tremor, a meticulously crafted performance of weakness. She fumbled with the metal pull, letting it slip through her fingers once, twice, before finally getting a grip. It was a precise, visceral display of a woman coming undone.
“You overpaid for standard metals,” Isolde whispered, her voice hollow and defeated.
“I am paying for your extinction,” Belle fired back. “Get used to losing, Isolde p>
Isolde finally zipped the bag. She stood, shoulders slumped, head down, and walked out of the conference room without looking at Belle.
The reporters were waiting. The flashes blinded her.
“Ms. Carson! Did InnoTech just buy out your supply chain p>
“Are you filing for bankruptcy p>