52 Rivalries at the Expor
Elara’s POV 1
The exhibition hall buzzed with activity. Tech professionals, investors, and industry leaders mingled in clusters throughout the space. I smoothed down my navy pantsuit, grateful I’d made it on time despite the car disaster.
Julian stood beside me, already in his element. His warm smile and confident demeanor attracted people like moths to flame. Within minutes, we were surrounded by curious onlookers eager to learn about YodaVision’s latest innovations.
“Dr. Vance was instrumental in developing our new interface,” Julian explained to at potential investor, his hand lightly touching my shoulder. “Her understanding of human–Al interaction is unparalleled.”
I felt a flush of pride at his words. It had been years since anyone had acknowledged my expertise so openly,
“The algorithm adapts to user behavior in real time,” I added, finding my voice stronger than expected. “We’ve reduced response lag by forty percent.”
The investor’s eyes widened appreciatively. “Impressive. Most companies are struggling to get past twenty percent.”
As I elaborated on the technical aspects, I noticed Julian watching me with quiet satisfaction. This was why he’d insisted I present today. Not just to showcase our technology, but to remind me who I was before the Thorne name eclipsed my own identity.
“Elara, I’d like you to meet Cole Turner,” Julian said, gesturing tò a tall man with keen eyes and salt–and–pepper hair. “He heads the innovation department at Nexus Tech.”
“Dr. Vance,” Cole acknowledged with a respectful nod. “Julian has spoken highly of your work. I was particularly interested in your paper on emotion recognition in Al
systems.”
I blinked in surprise. “You’ve read my research?”
“Of course. Your approach to empathy algorithms was groundbreaking
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52 Rivalries at the Expo
A warm feeling spread through my chest. Someone had actually read my work- remembered it, even–from before I’d become Mrs. Thorne.
Our conversation flowed
applications. For those by, moving from theoretical concepts to practical
minutes, I wasn’t Damien’s estranged wife or Cora’s
frequently absent mother. I was Dr. Elara Vance, respected in my field.
The moment shattered when a distinct hush fell over our section of the hall.
I turned instinctively toward the main entrance. Vivienne Dubois glided in, resplendent in her cream–colored dress that seemed to catch every beam of light. Behind her trailed Alistair Dubois–her father–and several associates I didn’t recognize. @
Her entrance created an immediate ripple effect. People straightened their posture, checked their appearance, and began gravitating toward her group. The social magnetism was undeniable.
O
Vivienne’s gaze swept the room with practiced poise until it landed on our small gathering. Her perfect smile faltered momentarily when she spotted me standing with Julian and Cole. Surprise flashed in her eyes, quickly masked by practiced charm.
“Vivienne always knows how to make an entrance,” Cole murmured beside me, his tone
neutral but observant.
Julian’s hand pressed reassuringly against my back. “Focus on why we’re here, Elara,” he reminded me quietly. “The YodaVision presentation is what matters today.”
I nodded, determined not to let Vivienne’s presence derail my confidence. Yet I couldn’t help noticing how effortlessly she commanded attention, drawing people her orbit with a laugh or touch on someone’s arm.
“Julian!” Alistair Dubois called out, breaking away from his daughter’s entourage. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here today.”
Julian smiled coolly. “Wouldn’t miss it. The expo is featuring our latest Al interface.”
Alistair’s gaze shifted to me, recognition dawning slowly. “Ah, Mrs. Thorne-”
“Dr. Vance,” Julian corrected smoothly. “Elara is my partner at YodaVision.”
Alistair’s eyebrows rose slightly. “I see. And you received an invitation through…?”
into
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52 Rivalries at the Expo
“Through me,” Julian replied, his tone pleasant but firm. “As one of the featured presenters, I’m allowed to include key team members.”
The underlying message was clear: I was here on merit, not as Damien’s wife.
Vivienne appeared at her father’s side, her expression perfectly composed. “Julian, what a surprise.” Her gaze slid to me. “Elara, I wouldn’t have expected to see you at a tech exhibition.”
“Dr. Vance is presenting our neural interface today,” Cole interjected. “Julian speaks very highly of her expertise.”
Vivienne’s smile tightened. “How wonderful. I wasn’t aware you maintained technical skills alongside your… other responsibilities.”
The barb was subtle but intentional.
“Some of us multitask better than others, I replied calmly, surprising myself with my
composure.
Before Vivienne could respond, a group of attendees approached her eagerly.
“Ms. Dubois! We heard Thorne Industries might be exploring quantum computing. Could you share any insights?” one asked.
“Is it true Damien Thorne is funding a new research initiative?” another questioned.
Vivienne’s demeanor shifted instantly, radiant as she basked in attention. “Damien’s vision for tech integration is certainly revolutionary,” she began, emphasizing her
connection to him.
I watched as more people gravitated toward her, drawn by the promise of proximity to Damien Thorne’s influence. The crowd surrounding her grew while our small group
remained relatively constant.
“This happens every time,” Cole observed dryly. “Put a Dubois in a room and watch everyone scramble for crumbs of Thorne Industries favor.”
Julian nodded. “The industry hasn’t changed much. People still chase connections over
substance”
“It’s pathetic,” Cole continued, his voice lowered but intense. “Half these people couldn’t care less about her actual knowledge. They’re just hoping she’ll mention their
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52 Rivalries at the Expor
names to Damien Thorne”
His words hung between us as we watched the spectacle unfold. Vivienne held court. masterfully, dropping casual references to
developing at Thome Industries. Each ‘s
latest project” or “what we’re
listeners.
visible excitement from her
“The difference,” Cole added, giving me an appraising look, “is that some people earn their place through actual contribution to the field.” He gestured subtly toward my presentation materials. “While others rely on whose bed they frequent.”
I felt heat rise to my cheeks at his bluntness, but couldn’t deny the accuracy of his assessment. Seven years ago, I might have been hurt by the scene. Now, I simply found it revealing.
Vivienne had positioned herself strategically in Damien’s world, leveraging his name and influence to secure her own social standing. Meanwhile, I was reclaiming my identity separate from the Thorne legacy, rebuilding a career I had once abandoned.
Julian checked his watch. “We should prepare for your presentation, Elara. The neural Interface demonstration is in twenty
minutes.”
As we gathered our materials and moved toward the presentation area, I felt Vivienne’s eyes following me. The message in her gaze was clear: this territory–the tech world, Damien’s world–belonged to her now.
But for the first time in years, I felt ready to challenge that assumption. Not by fighting for Damien, but by reclaiming my own’space in an industry I had loved before I ever
knew the name Thorne.
Cole’s words echoed in my mind as we walked away from Vivienne’s growing crowd of admirers. The distinction between earning your place and borrowing someone else’s influence had never been clearer.
And in that moment, I knew exactly which path I preferred.
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