Chapter 422
Chapter 422:
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Belle announced, her voice echoing through the ballroom speakers. “You are looking at the absolute future of aerospace engineering p>
In the back corner of the room, near the bar, Daron McKnight cornered Arland.
“This is your absolute last chance, Roth,” Daron said, taking a smug sip of his drink. “Jump ship now, before Carson Dynamics files for bankruptcy tomorrow morning p>
Arland didn’t look at him. He kept his eyes locked on the giant screen.
“I am perfectly good right where I am, Daron,” Arland replied, his voice a low rumble.
On the screen, the counter ticked upward: Resonance Load: 90 p>
Isolde stood near a massive marble pillar at the back of the room. She held a glass of champagne but wasn’t drinking. She was watching the screen with absolute, unblinking focus.
Grayson stood near the front of the stage, yet his eyes weren’t on the presentation. They were on Isolde.
𝗥е𝘢d on 𝗮𝗇y 𝘥𝖾v𝗂с𝘦 𝗼n
He saw the intense, predatory anticipation radiating from her posture. He saw the way her fingers gripped the stem of her glass.
A sudden, sickening realization struck him like a physical blow.
She knows something.
On the screen, the vibrating wing began to emit a high-pitched whine audible even over the broadcast audio.
The counter ticked higher: Resonance Load: 95%. The target for certification was 100 p>
Belle smiled brightly at the crowd. “As you can clearly see, our proprietary alloy is completely impervious to p>
SNAP.
The sound that erupted from the ballroom speakers was deafening — like a high-caliber gunshot.
On the giant screen, the gleaming silver wing didn’t simply bend. It shattered violently, exploding into a thousand jagged pieces. Heavy chunks of metal flew across the laboratory and smashed into the reinforced safety glass of the observation booth.
The digital counter froze in glaring red numbers: 96 p>
The entire ballroom went dead silent. The clinking of silverware stopped. Nobody breathed.
Belle turned slowly to look at the screen. Her mouth dropped open.
“What?” she stammered into the microphone. “No. No, that is just a visual glitch p>
On the screen, a laboratory technician ran into frame, waving his arms frantically at the camera.
“Structural failure!” the technician shouted, his voice panicked over the audio feed. “Critical catastrophic failure p>
A low murmur swept through the ballroom. Within seconds, dozens of wealthy investors reached into their tuxedo pockets and pulled out their phones. The massive stock sell-off began instantly.
A frantic assistant rushed up the stage stairs and grabbed Belle’s arm, whispering urgently into her ear.
Belle’s face went completely, horrifyingly pale.
“The whole batch?” Belle gasped into the live microphone, forgetting entirely to cover it.
At the back of the room, Isolde slowly lowered her arm and set her champagne glass down on a nearby cocktail table. The sharp clink of crystal against glass rang out clearly in the stunned silence.
She turned her back on the stage and began walking toward the exit doors.
Belle spotted the red dress moving through the crowd.
“You!” Belle screamed, pointing a violently shaking finger across the ballroom. “You did this!” She seized the microphone stand. “This is corporate sabotage p>