Chapter 71

No.1

The heavy oak door of the penthouse had slammed shut, but the echo of it was already gone.Germaine's eviction order had been intended to break her, to leave her stranded and helpless. It had failed spectacularly. On the cold, windswept drive out of Manhattan, Elisa had made only a single, encrypted call. "Alastair," she'd said, her voice a blade of ice."Activate Plan B."①

Now, twenty-four hours later, she stood not in a university but in the sterile, high-security heart of Aethel Intelligence's primary East Coast data haven.The air didn't smell of chalk dust or old books; it smelled of ozone, chilled server racks, and cold, hard facts. Alastair had fast-tracked her access, using a board-level emergency directive to grant her temporary operational command while the formal paperwork was being rammed through legal. The first step of her revenge was simply to live better, to stand higher, and to prove that their cage could never hold her.

She wore a pristine white lab coat over her black athletic gear. She stood in front of a massive holographic data table. Her fingers flew across the virtual keyboard, adjusting the neural interface algorithms for Project Chiron. The glowing blue light of the data streams reflected in her dark, unblinking eyes. She was completely, utterly focused. The physical pain in her bruised lower back was pushed deep down, buried under layers of pure, mechanical concentration.

A sharp beep from the laboratory's smart access door shattered the quiet hum of the servers.

Alastair's executive assistant, a woman named Anya with a perpetually severe expression, practically ran into the room. Her usually perfect posture was gone.Her face was flushed, and she was clutching a tablet so tightly her knuckles were white.

"Faye," Anya said, her voice dropping to a harsh,anxious whisper. "Mr. Cromwell just called from the top floor. He's on his way down here right now. He is absolutely furious."

Elisa's fingers paused over the glowing blue keys. A slight frown creased her forehead.

"Is there a calculation error in the Chiron algorithm?"Elisa asked, her voice calm and steady/. "Or did the JHU ethics board request supplementary data?"

Anya shook her head rapidly, her expression a mix of pity and panic.

"Neither," Anya said. "It's the public relations department. They forwarded a massive pile of entertainment gossip blogs to his office. The articles are calling you a homewrecker. They are saying you destroyed someone's marriage. He read them, and his face went completely cold. I've never seen him like that."

No.2

Elisa's stomach gave a slow, cold twist.

The temperature in her veins dropped. She knew exactly what this was. It was the fallout from Devon's multi-million dollar smear campaign, the digital execution August had allowed, and the direct result of the non-disclosure agreement Germaine had forced her to sign. They had locked her in a cage and were now throwing stones at her in public.

She reached out and tapped a single button. The holographic data panels instantly collapsed into a

single,secure line of code.

"I understand," Elisa said. Her voice was terrifyingly flat. "I will explain it to him."

Before Anya could say another word, the heavy electronic doors of the lab hissed open violently.

Alastair Cromwell marched into the room. His usually immaculate suit jacket was gone, his tie loosened.His face was a mask of dark, dangerous calm.

Right behind him walked two massive Aethel corporate security guards, their hands resting on their belts. Alastair had clearly marched straight out of a board meeting, ready fora war.

He stopped in the middle of the room. His sharp eyes locked onto Elisa. For a fraction of a second, the pure, corporate rage in his face softened into a look of deep, personal concern. But it was instantly swallowed by a much darker, protective fury.

He walked right up to her. He looked at her with the intense, scrutinizing gaze of a surgeon examining a fatal wound.

No.3

"Faye," Alastair demanded, his voice booming in the

sterile room. "This absolute garbage on the internet.Is any of it true?"

Elisa didn't look away. She met her boss's furious gaze with absolute, unshakeable calm.

"The media reports are maliciously edited and entirely out of context," Elisa said, her voice steady."But I am, in fact, currently navigating a very hostile...marriage dispute."

Alastair let out a heavy, disgusted snort that echoed off the metal walls.

"A marriage dispute?" Alastair barked. "Do you know what those articles are calling you? A manipulative,calculating nurse who slept her way into a billionaire's life! They are trying to destroy your entire professional existence!"

He spun around so fast his white coat flared out behind him.He pointed a shaking finger at Anya.

"Anya!" Alastair ordered, his voice vibrating with authority. "Any collaboration request, any funding proposal, any communication whatsoever from the Chambers family or their corporate entities-you block it! You throw it in the incinerator! They do not

exist to Aethel Intelligence!"

Anya nodded quickly,pulling out her digital notepad.

No.4

Suddenly, the intercom on the wall lit up with a bright yellow light. The top-floor receptionist's voice crackled through the speaker, sounding slightly intimidated.

"Mr. Cromwell, I apologize for the interruption," the receptionist said. "But Mr. August Chambers and Ms.Allena Mills are currently in the lobby. They are requesting an immediate audience. They said they have urgent business to discuss."

Alastair's thick dark eyebrows shot up. A terrifying,freezing light exploded in his eyes.

"They actually have the audacity to walk through my front doors?" Alastair hissed, his hands curling into tight fists.

Elisa's heart gave a slow, heavy thump against her ribs. She knew exactly why August was here. He was trying to buy Allena a spot in the most prestigious medical Al project in the country to solidify her fake "hero" status.

A siow, incredibly cold smile curved the corners of Elisa's mouth.

Alastair saw the look on her face. The raw anger in his eyes shifted into a sharp, calculating understanding.

"What do you want me to do, Faye?" Alastair asked quietly.

Elisa took a step closer to him. Her voice was soft,but it carried the lethal edge of a razor blade.

"Alastair," Elisa whispered. "Please, let them in. Some theatrical performances need to be finished in person."

No.5

Alastair stared into her black eyes for a long moment.He gave a single, sharp nod. He pressed the button on the intercom.

"Send them up," Alastair commanded. "Put them in the main client reception area on this floor."

Five minutes later, the secondary doors slid open.

August Chambers walked in. He was wearing a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, projecting absolute,billionaire dominance. He was holding Allena's hand.

Allena was wearing a designer pastel dress, walking with a slight, exaggerated limp in her medical boot,her face painted with a mask of perfect, humble sweetness.

The second August stepped into the room, his dark eyes landed on Elisa standing next to the data table.

His jaw instantly clenched. A flash of dark, ugly shock rippled across his face, followed immediately by a surge of arrogant annoyance. He clearly thought Elisa had run here to hide and cry to her new boss.He quickly masked his reaction, lifting his chin in a postureof supreme superiority.

Allena didn't even notice Elisa at first. She immediately stepped forward, dropping August's hand, and bowed deeply toward Alastair.

"Mr. Cromwell," Allena said, her voice dripping with thick, sugary adoration. "I have viewed you as the ultimate beacon of the tech community for my entire life. To be able to visit your headquarters in person is the greatest honor I could ever imagine."

Alastair didn't even look at her.

No.6

He didn't blink. He didn't acknowledge her bow. His

eyes bypassed her completely and locked onto August like a pair of sniper scopes.

"Mr. Chambers," Alastair said. His voice was a flat,freezing slab of ice. "I believe I have made it incredibly clear in the past. The doors to my company are not open to unsolicited pitches."①

August didn't flinch. He offered a smooth, practiced,incredibly fake smile. He reached up and casually adjusted his platinum cufflink.

"Mr. Cromwell, I assure you, this is not a corporate visit," August said smoothly. "I am here strictly in a personal capacity. I am here to discuss the personnel selection for the JHU joint venture. Her talent, her clinical experience, and her absolute passion for medicine will undoubtedly be a valuable asset."

Alastair let out a harsh, scraping laugh that sounded like metal tearing.

"Talent? Passion?" Alastair repeated, his voice dripping with pure, corporate disgust. "In this room,Mr. Chambers, I only recognize one standard.Absolute academic rigor and a completely flawless,unassailable background."

He finally turned his head. His sharp eyes sliced over Allena's designer dress, stripping away her fake humility in a single second.

"To be involved with an Aethel project," Alastair stated, his voice dropping to a lethal, vibrating pitch,"requires the most brutal background investigation on the planet. We verify academic history. We verify clinical ethics. And most importantly... we verify personal character."

The fake, sweet smile instantly froze on Allena's face.

No.7

A cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. She instinctively looked back at August, her eyes wide with sudden,raw panic.

August frowned slightly, stepping closer to Allena to project a shield of wealth.

"A background check will not be an issue," August said, his tone hardening with irritation. "Ms. Mills is a recognized star in the medical community. Her record is spotless."

Alastair didn't argue with him. He simply turned his head and looked at Elisa. He spoke in a tone that only the two of them fully understood.

"Faye," Alastair asked, his voice echoing in the quiet room. "What is your professional assessment? Does a person with a spotless record usually find themselves at the dead center of a massive,disgusting tabloid scandal?"

Elisa looked at Allena. She saw the absolute terror vibrating in the other woman's eyes.

Elisa's lips parted. A tiny, freezing smirk touched her face.

"Alastair," Elisa said, her voice smooth and deadly."A resume can be bought. A public image can be fabricated by a PR firm. But some things cannot be packaged. For example... whether or not a person possesses the basic human decency to respect another woman's marriage and family."