Chapter 462
Chapter 462:
“Oh, by the way,” Carter said, raising his voice again. “I’m heading to San Francisco tomorrow to host the opening ceremony of the ISSDC finals. My private jet has plenty of empty seats.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Since we are strategic partners now, why don’t you fly with me? We can discuss the chip integration protocols on the way p>
Isolde hesitated. Flying on Carter Sterling’s private jet would ignite a firestorm of rumors.
But she looked down at the priceless chip in her hand. This was the weapon she needed to crush InnoTech.
“We will go,” Isolde said.
Carter nodded, satisfied. “Tomorrow morning. Ten o’clock. Teterboro Airport. Don’t be late p>
He turned and walked out of the lab.
𝗜𝘯ѕt𝗮ո𝘁 𝘢сces𝘀 𝗈ո
The moment the glass doors closed, Harper ran over and grabbed Isolde’s arm.
“Oh my God!” Harper squealed. “That was Carter Sterling! Was he flirting with you just now p>
Isolde looked at the silver bag in her hand, her expression dead serious.
“No,” Isolde said. “He is investing. He is investing in a stock that might bring him a tenfold return p>
Outside the building, across the street, a man dressed as a street sweeper lowered his broom. He pulled a camera with a telephoto lens from inside his jacket and quickly reviewed the photos he had just taken through the glass doors. The image of Carter leaning in close to whisper in Isolde’s ear was perfectly in focus.
The private terminal at Teterboro Airport was a sanctuary of silence and extreme wealth. The floors were polished marble, and the air smelled of expensive espresso and leather.
Isolde walked into the lounge followed by Harper and Arland.
Harper looked around with wide eyes and grabbed a crystal flute of complimentary champagne from a passing tray.
“Is this how the one percent lives?” Harper muttered, taking a sip.
“Calm down,” Isolde said quietly. “We earned our way in here with technology, not trust funds p>
The automatic glass doors at the entrance slid open.
A group of people walked in. The temperature in the room immediately dropped.
Grayson entered — not in a wheelchair, but walking with a stiff, unnatural posture that spoke of immense pain. His back was ramrod straight to avoid any pressure on his wounds, and he leaned heavily on Arthur’s arm for support. A thin, clear tube was barely visible running from under his suit collar, connected to a discreet medical pump in Arthur’s hand. His face was gaunt, and the heavy sling was still strapped across his chest.
Belle walked right beside him, a hand hovering near his good arm. Daron and a team of InnoTech engineers trailed behind them.
The two groups stopped in the middle of the lounge.
Belle spotted Isolde. A nasty, triumphant smile spread across her face.
“Well, look who it is,” Belle mocked loudly. “Isolde. Did you come here to enjoy the free air conditioning p>
Daron laughed. “She is probably here to drop someone off. The economy class gates are at JFK, Isolde. You are in the wrong zip code p>
Grayson lifted his head. His eyes locked onto Isolde.
His chest physically ached. He wanted to ask her if she was okay after the incident at the club. But the fire on his back made him weak, and the words died in his throat.