The annual Silicon Valley AI Summit was a spectacle of calculated ambition. It was a cavernous convention center filled with the drone of a thousand self-important conversations, the scent of stale coffee and overpriced catering, and the uniform of the new global elite: expensive, understated sneakers, designer hoodies, and the ever-present, predatory gleam of opportunity in their eyes. For eight years, I had attended on Liam’s arm, the silent, supportive partner, the technical brain he kept hidden behind the curtain while he played the visionary showman.
This year, I walked in with Ethan, and I was the ghost at the feast.
We hadn’t come for the panels or the networking. We were there for a single, strategic purpose: to be seen. My name wasn’t on the CTO roster for Ethan’s company, ‘Nexu
