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Chapter 768
Chapter 768:
“I am not trying to wash my hands,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, vibrating growl.
He took a slow step toward her. His massive frame instantly dominated the tiny space, pulling the oxygen from the room.
Every instinct Isolde had screamed at her to step back. Her pride nailed her shoes to the floor. She lifted her chin and held her ground.
Grayson stopped close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his chest.
“I did it to cut off the only weakness you could use to bleed me,” he hissed, leaning down until his face was inches from hers. His breathing was harsh and ragged. “As long as I held Nexus Core, you would never stop hunting me. You would sue, you would leak, you would tear my family apart piece by piece. Now you have your empire. Belle is safe from federal prison. We have absolutely nothing left to fight over p>
He sounded like a man who had ripped his own heart out simply to prove it could no longer be used against him.
Isolde listened to his twisted, paranoid logic. A wave of pure nausea rolled through her.
She let out a sharp, cruel laugh that bounced off the metal walls.
“You burned ten billion dollars just to buy back your pathetic illusion of control?” she mocked.
She raised her hand and drove her index finger hard into the center of his chest.
“You are wrong, Grayson,” she said, her voice ringing with lethal certainty. “This is not the end. This is just the moment you finally realize you are drowning in the mud p>
𝖱еa𝘥 о𝗻 а𝗻𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝗏іс𝖾 𝗼𝗇
Grayson’s hand shot up. He seized her wrist.
His grip was bruising, desperate, and hot. Then, the instant his skin touched hers, he wrenched his hand back as though her skin were made of burning acid. He stumbled back a step, chest heaving. He looked at her one last time. There was no hatred in his eyes — only a vast, terrifying wasteland of nothing.
He reached down, grabbed the heavy metal handle of the quantum server, and ripped it from the rack.
He shoved his shoulder against the heavy door, pushed it open, and walked out into the bright hallway without looking back.
Isolde stood alone in the freezing, blue-lit room.
She rubbed her reddened wrist. Her heart was beating so fast it hurt her ribs.
The Grayson Lancaster who used to calculate every financial move with cold precision was gone. The man who had just walked out the door was a cornered, unpredictable force with nothing left to lose.
And the war was far from over.
Three days later, the massive ground-floor lobby of the Nexus Core building had been transformed into a blinding theater of corporate power.
Rows of cameras from the Wall Street Journal, Bloomberg, and CNBC were locked onto the main stage. The room buzzed with the frantic, hungry energy of New York’s financial elite, all waiting for the official announcement of the century’s biggest tech acquisition.
Inside the VIP green room, Isolde stood perfectly still.
