Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“Because we’ve loved each other since the start.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sera
I wait in a small room next to the large function hall where the press conference is being held. My heart beats wildly as I try to convince myself this is real. It started in Vegas with a spilled coffee… and now I’m about to talk to the entire world, with NeuroDrive’s blessing, about an idea that only warranted a tiny speech at CES. I’ve gone from the Z league to the A league in record breaking time.
Luke walks in, dashing in his black suit and perfectly coiffed hair.
“You look great,” he says.
I tug at my pencil skirt. “Is it too tight?”
He smirks. “If it was too tight, I wouldn’t let you go out there.” He touches his pocket.
“Oh, really? And why’s that?”
He grabs my hip, awakening instincts that make me want to forget all about the press conference.
“You know why…”
It takes an effort, but I press my hand against him and gently guide him away. “If we kiss, I won’t be able to think of anything else.”
“I hear that.” He touches his pocket again.
“Why do you keep doing that?” I ask.
“Huh?”
I grin. “What do you mean, huh? You keep touching your pocket.”
“Do I?” He seems distracted. “We should get going. Are you ready?”
He takes my hand and leads me toward the door.
Reporters fill the room, cameras aimed at the stage clicking and beeping as we approach it hand in hand. We’re in the main conference room, with floor-to-ceiling windows that show NeuroDrive’s public plaza, the fountain catching the light.
It’s easier to focus on the outside than in here, all these people…
No, screw that. Hello, big leagues. I’m ready for you.
I stand up straighter, looking at like I belong because incredibly I do.
We approach the stage together, and Luke takes the microphone. “Many of you have been following… shall we call it, the saga of NeuroDrive since the suspension of my keynote speech at CES. As you can see from the video uploaded to our social media earlier today, we have made substantial progress in not only fixing the problem, but improving the self-driving AI algorithm…”
He shoots a smile at me. “I wish I could say it was all due to me, but ladies and gentlemen, there’s no one who deserves more credit than Sera, my woman.”
Several people in the room gasp.
“As in the woman in the video of your altercation with your recently terminated employee, Andy Quinn?” somebody asks.
“Yes,” Luke says, proudly, no shame, showing the universe how much I mean to him.
Pride blossoms inside of me. Love fills my every single pore. He holds my hand. “Sera is my partner in life… and she’s my partner in business. She has been working on a concept called ‘empathetic AI’ and, well…” He squeezes my hand. “I think it’s better if my angel explains this herself.”
I clear my throat, looking at the cameras, the expectant reporters.
It’s when I look out the window for a small reprieve from the press that I see him. So much for using Graham and Ellie to set a trap… He’s turned up all by himself. My heart skips a beat, fear twisting through me.
“Luh-Luke,” I say, hating the stutter. “Look.”
“What’s wron…” He stops when he sees him too, Damien standing outside the window, his black hair falling across his face, smiling at us in the most deranged manner imaginable. “Motherfucker.”
“Luke!”
But it’s too late. The cameras swivel as Luke runs for the door, and then it’s mayhem as everybody clambers to follow him. I try to catch up, but I get stuck between two reporters. I spin, thinking I can use the other door and leave by the back exit and then loop around.
I end up at the window, staring as Damien turns to look, reaching into his pocket… He didn’t have a gun in the restaurant. I’ve got no clue why – maybe he didn’t think he’d need one. I pray he doesn’t have one now.
“This is where it ends,” Damien bellows. “This, Luke, here and now, this is where it ends!”
Luke approaches Damien, glaring at him. “You need to turn yourself in, Damien. You’re not well. You’ve gone too goddamn far. You threatened my woman, my soulmate, the only person I care about. You need to—”
I scream when Damien reaches into his pocket, taking out a knife that glints in the light. The reporters who remain in the room gasp.
“This ends here,” Damien roars, running at Luke, waving the knife like a madman… a madman who could keep it together for some time, fueled by his malformed vision, a madman who could sustain his mission. But now he’s sleep-deprived, and clearly, he’s out of ideas.
Luke dodges Damien wildly, slashes but loses his footing. A spurt of red flies into the air, seeming to freeze there like a comic book. It can’t end like this. Not after we’ve confessed our love for each other. Not when the future is so bright and promising.