148 A Rival’s Calculated Arrival
148 A Rival’s Calculated Arrival
Elara stood straighter, refusing to show any reaction. She had survived worse humiliations than this. D
“Shall we begin?” Julian asked, gesturing toward the prototype.
“Dr. Vance.” Jorge nodded curtly. “Mr. Croft.”
Still, not once did her gaze acknowledge Elara’s presence. It was as if she had been erased from the room–a ghost at her own presentation.
“What’s wrong?” Elara asked when the technician left.
“Gentlemen,” Damien addressed Jorge’s team, completely ignoring Elara and Julian. “I apologize for the delay. We’ll need to wait a bit longer.”
Lucas Sterling stepped forward. “We should proceed with the preliminary checks while we wait.”
Elara nodded stiffly, forcing her expression to remain neutral. This was becoming a pattern–wherever her career took her, Vivienne somehow appeared, backed by
Damien’s influence.
The minutes crawled by. Jorge’s team huddled together, occasionally glancing toward Elara and Julian with barely concealed smugness. They knew something was coming- something that would upset the balance of power in the room.
Damien finally acknowledged them with a cool glance. “For the complete team to assemble.”
Julian checked his watch for the third time. “They’re fifteen minutes late.”
As the teams moved toward the testing area, Elara caught Jorge watching her with calculation in his eyes–Theodore’s son indeed, assessing her reaction, measuring her weakness.
Vivienne turned to him, her smile never wavering. “Of course, Mr. Croft. I’m eager to see what everyone has accomplished.”
Jorge checked his phone. “Mr. Thorne isn’t here yet. We should wait.”
148 A Rival’s Calculated Arrival
“Thank you,” she replied, grateful for his professional courtesy.
Lucas approached Elara. “The parameters look good. Your team’s work is excellent, as always.”
“Jorge is Theodore’s son?” she repeated, struggling to process this revelation.
Elara’s heart sank. Damien was coming? No one had informed her.
The slight was calculated, designed to emphasize Elara’s insignificance. In that moment, the power dynamics couldn’t have been clearer: Vivienne was the woman Damien valued, the one worth waiting for, while Elara was merely another employee whose time could be wasted.
Three days later, Elara stood in InnovaTech’s massive testing facility. The gleaming white space housed their prototype self–driving car–a sleek black vehicle that represented months of collaborative work.
Damien observed the interaction with cold detachment, making no move to correct Vivienne’s behavior or acknowledge his wife. His attention remained fixed on Vivienne, his body language clearly indicating where his priorities lay.
The betrayal stung, though Elara had grown accustomed to disappointment. That lunch meeting now made perfect sense–Theodore’s questions about her marriage, his sudden interest in her research.
Jorge smiled. “Of course, Mr. Thorne. No problem at all.”
Julian nodded grimly. “Found out yesterday. Theodore Robinson has been playing both sides–meeting with you while his son works with InnovaTech against us.”
“Wait for what?” Julian interjected, irritation evident in his voice.
A technician approached Julian, whispering something in his ear. Julian’s expression darkened instantly.
“I’m sorry about…” he gestured vaguely toward the elevator where Damien had disappeared. His expression conveyed genuine sympathy.
Cold realization washed over Elara. Of course. Damien would find a way to insert Vivienne into this project too.
Julian stiffened beside her, his protective instincts flaring. “Perhaps we should begin
148 A Rival’s Calculated Arrival
the demonstration,” he suggested loudly. “We’ve all been waiting quite long enough.”
“In a meeting upstairs,” Julian replied. “With the design team.”
The atmosphere crackled with tension. Both teams had been competing fiercely, and today’s test would determine whose Al system would advance to the next
development phase.
“The complete team,” Julian echoed under his breath. “Three guesses who that means.”
But the performance was far from over.
Julian’s news hit Elara like a thunderbolt on a clear day.
Linda’s gaze immediately found Elara, her lips curving in a mocking smile. Her eyes conveyed the message clearly: Look at you, waiting for her like everyone else.
Elara maintained her composure, her face a careful mask of professional indifference. But inside, something hardened–another small piece of her heart turning to stone. This public humiliation was just another reminder of why her divorce papers sat ready in her desk drawer, waiting for the right moment.
“Is she here today?” she asked, dreading the answer.
The glass doors slid open as Jorge’s team finally entered. Five men in matching navy blazers, led by Jorge himself–tall, confident, with Theodore’s calculating eyes.
“Mr. Robinson,” Elara replied, keeping her tone neutral despite knowing his connection to Theodore. Professional courtesies had to be maintained.
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