The air in the Nasdaq MarketSite was thick with the scent of money and expensive cologne. It was a cathedral of capitalism, all gleaming surfaces and screens broadcasting the upward trajectory of stock tickers. Today, they were all green, all celebrating the imminent birth of Nexus AI as a public entity. A massive banner bearing the company’s sleek logo and Julian’s professionally photographed face hung from the ceiling, a monument to a lie.
I moved through the crowd not like a guest, but like a ghost. I’d traded Arthur’s tailored suit for a simple, sharp black dress, my hair pulled back severely. I wore no makeup, no jewelry. I was not there to celebrate. I was a quiet, necessary demolition. My guest pass, courtesy of the Grant Foundation, had gotten me past the first layer of security w
