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Chapter 655
Chapter 655:
She turned back to Carter but spoke at a volume that ensured Belle heard every word.
“Being targeted by aggressive short-sellers simply proves that my company possesses highly valuable core assets that predators want to strip and sell,” Ellyn explained, delivering a brutal lesson in economics with the casual ease of someone who had learned it decades ago. “A company only gets shorted when it has actual, tangible worth p>
She let her gaze drift briefly to Belle’s pale, sweating face.
“Whereas a shell company built on stolen, non-functional algorithms,” Ellyn added, her voice sharpening to a fine edge, “doesn’t even qualify to be shorted. Because Wall Street knows there is absolutely nothing inside to steal p>
The insult was so precise, so devastatingly accurate, that it knocked the breath from Belle’s lungs.
Carter Harrington let out a sudden, loud bark of laughter. He threw his head back, genuinely amused by Ellyn’s ruthless dismantling of the younger woman.
𝗪𝗁𝗮𝗍 e𝘃e𝗋𝗒о𝗇𝘦 𝗂𝘴 re𝗮𝗱іn𝗴 𝗈𝗻 ѕ.cо𝘮
“Ms. Briggs, your logic is as flawless as your daughter’s,” Carter said, pressing a finger to the corner of his eye. He looked at Ellyn with undisguised respect. “Harrington Capital specializes in acquiring distressed assets with hard tech. I would very much like to see that data p>
He gestured toward the exit.
“Are you and your daughter available for dinner this evening? My chef at Le Bernardin can prepare a private room. We can discuss the licensing of this ceramic coating p>
“We would be delighted,” Ellyn smiled.
The deal was struck. The capital had officially shifted.
Belle’s knees gave out. She collapsed onto the cold marble floor, her designer dress pooling around her, and stared blankly at the polished stone as her mind failed to process the totality of her ruin.
High above, standing in the shadows of the second-floor glass balcony, a tall figure watched the entire scene.
Grayson Lancaster gripped the railing. His knuckles were bone white. His jaw was clenched so tightly his teeth ached.
He had abandoned his press conference the moment an aide showed him a frantic text about a public disturbance involving Belle Escobar at the Olympiad. Fearing a PR catastrophe, he had rushed to the Javits Center and slipped into the upper levels just as the crowd began to disperse. He had stood in the shadows, watching the entire catastrophic aftermath unfold in silence — the public humiliation, the press swarming, and now Belle begging like a dog while Isolde and her mother secured a sweeping alliance with one of his most formidable rivals.
Grayson stared down at Isolde.
She looked radiant. She looked powerful. She looked completely, terrifyingly independent.
A cold, dark panic began to claw at his chest. The control he believed he had over her was nothing but an illusion. She was slipping through his fingers, and he was powerless to stop it.
The Javits Center lobby was a cavernous echo chamber of shifting destinies.
From his vantage point on the second-floor glass balcony, Grayson Lancaster stood perfectly still. The tinted glass partially obscured him, turning him into a silent, brooding gargoyle overlooking the wreckage below.