Chapter 3
1040words
In the executive suite of Trent Tower, the temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees in seconds.
James glared at the vile accusations scrolling across his tablet, his expression murderous. Kevin stood motionless nearby, barely breathing, feeling like he'd been transported to the eye of a hurricane.
"You call this monitoring?" James's voice could have flash-frozen nitrogen. "Wasn't the directive 'suppression within three minutes'? Then what the hell am I looking at?" His finger jabbed the screen hard enough to make the glass flex.
Kevin felt ice water trickle down his spine. "Sir, they coordinated this attack—multiple bot farms launching simultaneously across different platforms. Our systems are flagging and reporting as fast as possible—"
"I don't give a damn about your process!" James slammed his palm on the desk as he shot to his feet. "Where's Legal? I want cease and desist letters flying out the door! I don't want these accounts suspended—I want whoever's behind them financially ruined! Make it happen. Now!"
"Yes, sir! Legal's already drafting the letters, and we're preserving all evidence as we speak—" Kevin rattled off, feeling sweat beading at his temples. In ten years, he'd never seen James this livid—not even when a competitor tried to sabotage their biggest merger.
"And the fan club?" James's voice dropped dangerously low, his eyes still blazing. "Why isn't our official account responding? I want a statement out immediately! Use concrete evidence, scorched-earth language—I want these vermin exterminated!"
The last words came out as a near-roar. The mere thought of Sophia seeing those disgusting comments—of her perfect brow creasing even slightly in distress—was physically painful to him. He needed to sanitize her online space immediately. His mind was already racing through less-than-legal options for making these anonymous attackers permanently disappear.
Kevin was already tapping frantically on a separate device: "The rebuttal statement with supporting evidence is formatted and ready—publishing now!"
Just as the "Sophia Global Official Fan Club" hit send on their meticulously crafted, evidence-backed defense—
A thermonuclear announcement detonated across every major news outlet worldwide without warning!
The International Mathematical Union, backed by MIT, Oxford, and the Chinese Academy of Sciences, simultaneously released the recipients of this year's Fields Medal. The name and photograph in the top position hit the internet like a lightning strike:
[BREAKING: Professor Sophia Sullivan becomes youngest-ever Fields Medal recipient for revolutionary breakthroughs in partial differential equations and topological dynamics]
The accompanying photo showed Sophia at the podium, elegant in academic regalia, confidently writing equations on a blackboard while the world's mathematical elite looked on in undisguised awe. The dense maze of symbols and formulas behind her might as well have been alien script to laypeople, but radiated undeniable intellectual authority.
The Nobel of mathematics! The youngest laureate ever! Professor Sophia Sullivan!
The announcement vaporized the "credential fraud" accusations like tissue paper in a blast furnace, leaving not even ashes behind.
Social media platforms nearly crashed under the traffic surge! #SophiaFieldsMedal and #MathGoddess trended worldwide with record-breaking numbers. The trolls who'd been so vocal minutes before vanished like cockroaches when the lights come on—frantically deleting posts, privating accounts, or simply slinking away in humiliation. Comment sections transformed from battlegrounds to worship temples overnight.
"Did I seriously just question the academic credentials of a FIELDS MEDALIST? Someone please revoke my internet privileges forever."
"I can't understand a single symbol on that blackboard but I'm ready to build this woman a shrine. ALL HAIL THE QUEEN OF NUMBERS!"
"Trolls getting absolutely BODIED by the International Mathematical Union is the content I'm here for. How's that crow taste, haters?"
"Fan club drops receipts and then BAM—Fields Medal announcement? That's what we call perfect timing! Chess not checkers!"
James stared at his screen, his rage instantly crystallizing into shock, then melting into pure, unadulterated euphoria!
He'd been ready to deploy his entire corporate arsenal, prepared to wage digital warfare on her behalf, even willing to bend ethical boundaries to crush her detractors. He'd assumed she needed his protection.
But the reality?
The woman who'd captured his attention wasn't some fragile blossom needing shelter from the storm.
She was a goddamn Everest, soaring above the clouds, standing at intellectual heights he and most of humanity could never hope to reach! What she'd casually produced was work that had the entire mathematical community reeling in awe!
Those petty accusations he'd been so concerned about now looked pathetically absurd against the blinding brilliance of her achievement—like children throwing pebbles at a titanium fortress.
The revelation sent his pulse racing and his blood singing through his veins. Beyond the initial shock came a strange, possessive pride that threatened to burst his ribcage, followed by admiration so intense it bordered on reverence.
She wasn't just the ethereal beauty that had stopped his heart at first sight—she possessed one of the most brilliant minds on the planet! The intoxicating combination of beauty and genius hit him harder than any whiskey, leaving him drunk on newfound adoration.
He snapped back to reality—this was no moment for stunned inaction!
"Kevin!" His voice cracked with excitement rather than rage, burning with the need to be part of this moment. "The fan club's congratulatory post—is it live yet? It needs to be immediate! Enthusiastic! Overflowing with pride! Use that photo of her at the ceremony! Go! Now!"
"Already done, sir! It's blowing up as we speak!" Kevin quickly displayed the fan club's post—a perfectly crafted message radiating pride and celebration that was already gathering thousands of interactions per minute.
James exhaled deeply and sank back into his chair, eyes never leaving the image of Sophia standing at the absolute pinnacle of intellectual achievement, basking in the admiration of the global elite.
His fingertips brushed the cool glass of the screen, as if trying to touch that serene, confident face through the digital barrier.
He'd started out simply wanting to shield a beautiful star.
Instead, he'd fallen hopelessly for the most brilliant supernova in the cosmos.
The sensation eclipsed anything he'd felt building his business empire from scratch.
