The launch of Phase Two of the Ai Group's Prometheus project was held at the Hyatt's grand ballroom—the most luxurious venue in the city center. Crystal chandeliers scattered dazzling light, red carpets stretched across the floor, and media crews with cameras and microphones were already in place. Glamour, chatter, champagne—it was a spectacle.
Emma wore a tailored navy suit, her long hair swept up to reveal a graceful neckline. In the backstage lounge, a makeup artist applied final touches. She stared into the mirror at the poised, powerful woman she'd become, trying to summon the confidence she once wielded so effortlessly.
But only she knew how much fatigue and agitation lay beneath the surface—how many layers of foundation it took to hide the exhaustion from sleepless nights and the lingering effects of the mark.
"Ms. Ai, it's time," her assistant whispered.
Emma took a deep breath, straightened her spine, and stepped into the spotlight with a flawless professional smile.
Applause erupted as she walked to the podium. Her gaze swept the crowd, and she began her speech with calm authority. She outlined the immense potential of Prometheus—a new targeted drug for rare neurodegenerative diseases. If successful, it would be a breakthrough in medicine and a massive win for the company.
"…We believe Prometheus will ignite hope for countless patients and families," her voice rang through the hall, confident and compelling. "Ai Group is fully committed to investing resources to ensure the project's success…"
Shareholders and executives smiled, pleased with her performance. Everything was going according to plan.
Until the Q&A session began.
A ripple of commotion stirred among the reporters. Many glanced at their phones, whispering, eyes wide with surprise and excitement.
Emma frowned. A sense of dread crept in. She looked to the PR director, silently asking for an update.
The director's face had gone pale. She rushed over and whispered urgently, "Ms. Ai, something's happened. Just now, First Heart Capital held a press conference—same time. They announced a massive investment in Corei Pharmaceuticals and launched a new drug targeting the same pathway as Prometheus! They… they even released preliminary preclinical data. It looks… impressive."
"First Heart Capital?" Emma's mind buzzed. The name was unfamiliar. But Corei—she knew well. A long-time rival, recently in decline. She never expected them to be revived like this.
And then—First Heart. The name stabbed her memory. Wasn't Gu Liang's studio called… First Heart?
No. Impossible. Just a coincidence. Gu Liang was a perfumer. He couldn't possibly be involved in capital operations.
But the unease spread like wildfire.
The reporters had caught wind. The questions turned sharp.
"Ms. Ai! What's your response to First Heart Capital partnering with Corei Pharmaceuticals in the same field? Will Prometheus face unprecedented competition?"
"Ms. Ai, some analysts say First Heart's early data outperforms Prometheus in key metrics. Any comment?"
"Ms. Ai, rumors suggest First Heart's founder is young and mysterious. Were you aware of this sudden rise?"
The questions came like bullets. Flashbulbs exploded, capturing every twitch of her expression. Emma's smile stiffened. Cold sweat soaked her back.
She forced composure, replying with corporate platitudes: "…Market competition is normal. Ai Group welcomes healthy rivalry—it drives industry progress… We remain confident in Prometheus… No comment on First Heart Capital at this time…"
But even she could hear the weakness in her voice. The reporters, sharp as bloodhounds, sensed something was off.
The press conference ended in a haze of tension and doubt.
Backstage, Emma's facade crumbled. She yanked off her suffocating tie, face dark.
"Find out! Now! What is First Heart Capital? Who's behind it? Is it connected to Gu Liang?" she snapped at her assistant, voice trembling with anger—and something else. Fear.
The assistant, stunned by her outburst, rushed off.
Emma sat alone on the lounge sofa, chilled to the bone. She pulled out her phone and searched for news on First Heart Capital.
Headlines flooded the screen:
"Mysterious Capital Force 'First Heart' Emerges, Partners with Corei to Challenge Ai Group's Core Project!""Prometheus Faces Fierce Rivalry—'First Heart' Strikes, Pharma Sector in Turmoil!""Exclusive: 'First Heart' Founder Rumored to Be Hidden Tycoon—Background Unknown!"
One photo showed the press conference from afar. At the podium stood a figure in a dark gray suit. The face was blurred by distance—but the silhouette, the posture…
Emma's heart clenched.
It looked… too familiar.
Her instincts screamed. That was Gu Liang.
Her marked Omega. The man she discarded. The one she thought was "just" a perfumer.
No. It couldn't be. It had to be a hallucination. Stress. Guilt. Imagination.
But deep inside, a voice whispered coldly: Emma, you've provoked someone you were never meant to provoke.
Her phone rang. Her father—the chairman of Ai Group.
Emma inhaled and answered.
"Emma! What happened at the press conference? What is First Heart Capital?!" His voice was tight with fury. "The stock is already fluctuating! I need answers—now!"
Listening to his demands, staring at the blurred but unmistakable figure on her screen, Emma felt something she hadn't felt in years.
She had lost control.
She thought the breakup had drawn a line—two lives, never to intersect again.
But Gu Liang had returned. Not with love. But with war.
The first whiff of smoke had risen.
And she was caught off guard.