Chapter 414
Chapter 414:
Isolde and Arland stood side by side, staring at a bank of computer monitors, watching a live encrypted satellite feed. On the screen, a massive unmarked eighteen-wheeler moved steadily down a dark highway — driving through the night, straight from Ohio.
“They think we are completely dead in the water,” Arland said, crossing his arms.
“Let them think it,” Isolde replied, her eyes tracking the truck’s GPS coordinates. “Silence is our best camouflage right now p>
She reached out and tapped the keyboard, pulling up the chemical breakdown of the Leland alloy. “Based on this composition,” she said, tracing a red line on the graph with her finger, “Belle’s wings will snap clean off at exactly Mach 0.8 p>
She leaned back in her chair. The cold blue light of the monitors reflected in her eyes. “We just have to wait for the stress test p>
Le Coucou. Soho.
The high-end French restaurant was a symphony of clinking crystal and hushed, wealthy conversation.
Isolde and Arland sat at a corner table, reviewing the final logistics routing for the Ohio shipment on a secure tablet. It was a working lunch, efficient and purposeful.
The heavy velvet curtains at the entrance parted.
Belle walked in wearing a sharp designer suit, with Daron McKnight trailing a half-step behind her. She scanned the room. Her eyes locked onto Isolde’s table.
𝘞𝘩𝘢t 𝖾v𝗲𝗿𝘺𝗼ո𝖾 𝗂𝘴 𝗿𝖾𝗮𝗱і𝘯𝗀 𝘰𝗻
Rather than turning away to find her own seat, Belle squared her shoulders and strutted directly across the dining room.
“Spending the absolute last of the company funds on a fancy lunch?” Belle asked loudly as she reached the table. “Bold move p>
Isolde did not look up from the tablet. She calmly reached for her crystal water glass and took a slow sip.
“Everyone has to eat, Belle,” Isolde said, her voice perfectly level.
Belle sneered. She turned her back entirely on Isolde, shifting her focus directly to Arland.
“Arland,” Belle said, her tone suddenly shifting to a sickly-sweet pitch. “You are a highly talented VP of Operations. Why are you letting yourself sink with this dead ship?” She leaned closer, resting her hands on the edge of their table. “InnoTech has an opening for Chief Operating Officer. I will double your current salary. Today p>
It was a blatant, open poaching attempt — the absolute embodiment of corporate rudeness.
Arland did not react immediately. He picked up his white linen napkin and slowly, deliberately wiped the corners of his mouth. Then he dropped it onto his empty plate and looked up at Belle before shifting his gaze to Daron.
“Double my salary?” Arland asked, his voice a low, rumbling baritone. “That is incredibly generous p>
Belle shot a vicious, triumphant smirk over her shoulder at Isolde. “See? Real talent knows exactly where the money is p>
Arland leaned back in his chair.
“But I have a strict personal rule,” he continued, his face deadpan. “I refuse to work for theoretical companies p>
Belle’s smirk froze instantly. Her brow furrowed. “Theoretical p>
“A company that is trying to build aerospace vehicles out of decorative metal is purely theoretical,” Arland stated, his voice carrying clearly to the adjacent tables. “Because those planes will never actually fly p>
Daron stepped forward, his face flushing dark red. He pointed a thick finger at Arland.