Asher stood on that stage, frozen.
Kael's eyes locked on his from across the ballroom. Marcus beside him, still talking, gesturing.
And Asher knew—in that moment—that Marcus had figured it out. Had told Kael. Had shown him something on his phone that made everything click.
But instead of the confrontation Asher had been dreading, Kael just stood there. Staring. His expression a mixture of shock and something else Asher couldn't identify.
"Mr. Quinn-Park?" Helen's urgent whisper from the wings. "You need to present. Everyone's waiting."
Asher looked out at two hundred expectant faces. At investors and executives and partners all waiting for him to speak.
He couldn't do it.
"I'm sorry," Asher said into the microphone, his voice echoing through the ballroom. "I'm not feeling well. I need to—I apologize."
He set down the microphone and walked off stage.
Behind him, he heard gasps. Confused murmuring. Helen calling his name.
But he kept walking.
