Chapter 77

No.1

The Grand Ballroom of the Waldorf Astoria was a sea of glittering crystal chandeliers, heavy silk drapery,and the suffocating scent of expensive champagne and predatory wealth.

Tonight was the official celebration gala for the JHU and Aethel Intelligence joint venture. It was a massive media event, designed to showcase the future of medical technology to the world's wealthiest investors.①

Elisa stepped out of the private elevator and into the ballroom foyer.

She was not wearing a lab coat tonight. She wore a custom-tailored, deep charcoal-grey evening gown.The fabric was heavy and matte, devoid of any cheap sequins or flashy cutouts. It draped perfectly over her frame, radiating a cold, untouchable,architectural elegance. She looked like a weapon forged from dark steel.

Alastair walked beside her, looking effortlessly

powerful in a classic black tuxedo.

As they entered the main hall, the ambient noise of the crowd washed over them. The room was packed with New York's elite.

Directly in the center of the room, standing under the largest chandelier, were August and Allena.

They were the absolute center of gravity.Photographers were snapping pictures rapidly.August was wearing a midnight-blue tuxedo that perfectly accentuated his broad shoulders. Allena was clinging to his arm, wearing a violently bright,crimson-red silk dress with a plunging neckline. It was a dress designed to scream for attention.

No.2

Their fingers were tightly interlaced. August was leaning down, whispering something into Allena's ear, making her throw her head back in a loud,theatrical laugh.

They were putting on a flawless, aggressive display of public romance.

Elisa stopped walking. She stood near a massive marble pillar, her black eyes locked onto her legal husband and his mistress.

A heavy, cold knot formed in her stomach. It wasn't jealousy. It was the visceral, sickening realization of her own public erasure. Legally, she was still August Chambers' wife. But in this room, under these lights,she was a ghost. August's eyes swept over the crowd, briefly landing on Elisa.

He didn't flinch. He didn't look away in shame. He simply let his gaze slide right past her, as if she were a piece of ugly furniture he had decided to ignore.

Allena, however, saw her. Allena immediately tightened her grip on August's bicep. She lifted her chin, her eyes locking onto Elisa with a look of pure,venomous triumph. She leaned closer to August,pressing her chest against his arm, making sure Elisa saw every millimeter of their intimacy.

"Don't look at them, Faye," Alastair murmured,stepping slightly in front of her to break the line of sight. He handed her a flute of champagne. "They are performing for the cameras. It's pathetic."

Elisa took the cold crystal glass. Her fingers were completely numb.

"I'm not looking at them," Elisa said, her voice a flat,

No.3

dead whisper. "I'm looking at a corpse."

The official presentations began. The host, a famous television anchor, took the stage to introduce the key players of the project.

"And representing the brilliant minds at Aethel Intelligence, the Chief Technical Advisor, Ms. Elisa Wilder!" the host boomed over the speakers.

A smattering of polite, tepid applause echoed through the room. A few people looked at her, but most quickly looked away, their eyes filled with the lingering judgment of the Page Six scandal.

"And joining the JHU team, made possible by the incredible generosity of the Chambers Group," the host continued, his voice rising in excitement."The brilliant Clinical Data Consultant, and the lovely partner of Mr. August Chambers... Dr. Allena Mills!"

The ballroom erupted. The applause was thunderous. People cheered. August raised his glass in a toast to Allena, kissing herpublicly on the cheek.

Elisa stood in the shadows, taking a slow sip of her champagne. The bubbles burned the back of her throat.

... -.."Hear that?" Alastair asked quietly, his jaw tignt witñanger. "That applause isn't for her brain. It's for his bank account."

"I know," Elisa replied, her eyes completely devoid of warmth. "My applause doesn't come from sycophants.It comes from the data."

No.4

An hour later, the formal dinner concluded, and the guests began mingling freely. Elisa stood near a quiet corner of the bar, discussing the latency protocols with Professor Finch.

Suddenly, a heavy, arrogant presence invaded her personal space.

Cyprian Thatcher, August's closest friend and loyal attack dog, swaggered up to the bar. He was holding a glass of scotch, his face flushed with alcohol and malice.

"Well, well, well," Cyprian drawled, his voice loud enough to turn several heads. "If it isn't the 'Chief Technical Advisor'. Tell me, Ms. Wilder, how does it feel to be the least important person in the room?"

Elisa didn't turn her head. She kept her eyes locked on Professor Finch,completely ignoring Cyprian's

existence.

Cyprian's face darkened. He stepped closer, invading her physical space.

"You think that fancy title means anything?" Cyprian sneered,gesturing with his scotch glass toward the center of the room where August and Allena were holding court. "Look at them. That is power. That is the core of this project. You are just a diversity hire Cromwell brought in to make himself look good."

Elisa slowly turned around.

No.5

She looked at Cyprian. She didn't look angry. She looked at him with the terrifying, clinical detachment of a mortician examining a body.

"Mr. Thatcher," Elisa said, her voice dropping to a freezing, razor-sharp pitch. "The core of a project is built on functional algorithms, not public displays of biological fluid exchange."

Cyprian choked on his scotch. He coughed violently,his face turning bright red.

"You arrogant bitch," Cyprian hissed, wiping his mouth. "You better watch your mouth. You might

have a job today, but you will never be anything more than a discarded mistake. The position of 'Mrs.Chambers' belongs to Allena now. Everyone knows it."

Elisa let out a soft, chilling laugh. The sound made the hair on the back of Cyprian's neck stand up.

"Your definition of that title is incredibly narrow,Cyprian," Elisa whispered, stepping one inch closer to him. "If you think being 'Mrs. Chambers' is a prize,you are welcome to wear the collar. I prefer to own the building."

Before Cyprian could formulate a response, a bright flash of light blinded them.

A reporter from a major medical journal had approached, a cameraman trailing behind him.

No.6

"Ms. Wilder! Mr. Thatcher!" the reporter said eagerly."Can I get a quick quote? Ms. Wilder, as the technical lead, what are your expectations for this collaboration? Specifically, how do you feel about Dr.Mills joining the team?"

Cyprian smirked, stepping back to watch Elisa squirm.

Elisa turned to the camera. Her face instantly smoothed into a mask of perfect, terrifying professional grace.

"Technology is objective. Expectations are subjective," Elisa stated, her voice clear and ringing with authority. "My sole focus is ensuring the absolute viability and security of the Chiron architecture."

"And Dr. Mills?" the reporter pressed, sensing the tension.

Elisa's blackeyes flicked across the room, landing directly on Allena, who was watching the interview from afar, a smug smile on her lips.

Elisa looked back at the camera. The corners of her mouth curved up into a smile that was entirely made of ice.

"Aethel Intelligence," Elisa said slowly, emphasizing every lethal syllable, "always welcomes anyone who can actually contribute something real to the project."

Across the room, Allena's smug smile instantly shattered. The implication that she was fake,that

No.7

she contribouted nothing, hit her like a physical slap.August's face turned black with rage. He grabbed Allena's arm and violently pulled her away from the crowd,marching toward the exit.

Elisa watched them flee. She set her empty champagne glass down on the bar. The glass made a sharp,final clink against the marble.

The marriage was dead. The rot was complete. And she was finally, gloriously free to bury it.