Chapter 482
Chapter 482:
The entire hall held its breath. Every camera in the room swiveled toward them.
Cyrus looked up at Isolde, who was still standing at the podium. He offered her a slight, formal bow — a gesture of profound respect from a man who bowed to no one.
“Brilliant live execution, Isolde,” Cyrus said, his voice carrying through the silent room. “Watching you type just now… it brought back excellent memories of our days working together at DARPA p>
That single sentence hit the room like a tactical strike.
DARPA.
The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. The absolute pinnacle of classified aerospace engineering.
Isolde drew her hands back from the keyboard. A small, genuine smile touched her lips.
“You are late, Mr. Sterling,” she replied smoothly.
Cyrus threw his head back and laughed. “To watch a show this good? Being late was entirely worth it p>
He turned and began making his way toward the VIP judges’ table. As he passed the front row, he stopped directly in front of Grayson Lancaster.
Grayson sat rigid in his chair, face pale, eyes burning with a chaotic mixture of realization and agony.
𝘔о𝗿е n𝗼𝘷е𝘭ѕ 𝗈𝗻
Cyrus looked down at him. The pity in his expression was more insulting than any slap.
“Lancaster,” Cyrus said quietly, though loud enough for the surrounding rows to catch every word. “You dropped a flawless diamond to pick up a piece of shattered glass. I highly recommend you fire your optometrist p>
Grayson’s good hand clenched into a fist so tight his knuckles cracked. His jaw locked. He could not say a single word in his own defense. The code still glowing on the screen behind Isolde was absolute proof of his catastrophic blindness.
Cyrus continued to the judges’ table and settled into the empty seat beside Professor Nelson. Nelson — a man notorious for his arrogance — immediately rose and shook Cyrus’s hand with unmistakable reverence.
The audience finally erupted. Whispers swelled into a roar.
“Did he say DARPA p>
“She isn’t a sugar baby — they are former colleagues p>
“InnoTech is finished. You don’t cross DARPA alumni p>
In the pit, Chase wiped sweat from his forehead. “He’s lying,” he whispered frantically to Belle. “It’s a cover story. Billionaires always invent credentials for their mistresses to make them look credible p>
Belle seized that lie like a drowning woman grabbing a life raft.
“Yes,” she hissed, her eyes wild. “There is no way a housewife got into DARPA p>
Isolde walked down from the stage and returned to her seat. Her palms were slick with cold sweat. The adrenaline from the live coding was receding, leaving her physically drained. Lucas immediately pressed a bottle of water into her hands.
“You are a literal god,” he whispered, still wide-eyed with awe. “And Cyrus just dropped the ultimate assist p>
Isolde took a slow sip. She looked up at the VIP table. She understood that Cyrus’s entrance had been a calculated move — he was deploying his immense gravity as a shield, forcing the industry to focus on her mind rather than her gender.