Chapter 18 - The Grand Gala of Wolves
Forty-eight hours later, the Grand Metropolis Ballroom buzzed with the glittering elite of the international technology sector. Crystal chandeliers cascaded from soaring ceilings, refracting the sparkle of diamond necklaces and thousand-dollar champagne flutes.
The event was the prestigious Global Vanguard Technology Summit—an annual gala where the world's foremost innovators, venture capitalists, and scientists gathered to unveil the future.
And tonight, the guests of honor were the Serrano-Miller family.
When the double doors opened, all heads turned. Lucía looked breathtaking in an emerald-green silk gown, her head held with the regal dignity of a woman who had walked through hell and emerged crowned in fire. Flanking her were Marcos and Mateo, impeccably dressed in custom black tuxedos, their youthful presence radiating an intellect that commanded immediate, respectful silence.
Beside them stood Arthur Vance, holding his head high as the family's senior legal counsel.
"Look at the hyenas," Mateo murmured under his breath, watching the sea of billionaires and tech moguls pretend to smile. "Two days ago they were writing Álvaro checks to steal our work. Tonight they want our autographs."
"Keep your chin up, Mateo," Lucía whispered gently, squeezing his hand. "We didn't come here to beg for their approval. We came here to claim what your grandfather started."
At the center of the ballroom, a towering digital dais displayed the glowing emblem of the Serrano-Miller Innovation Fund. The gala was meant to be their formal coronation—a presentation of the fully stabilized Prometheus Clean-Energy Module, which promised to render traditional fossil fuel grids obsolete within a decade.
Dr. Kenneth Ward, the venerable dean of the National Institute of Technology, stepped up to the podium, tapping the microphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Dr. Ward announced, his voice booming over the state-of-the-art acoustics. "History is rarely written by those who inherit power. It is forged by those who endure. Tonight, we honor two minds whose brilliance has already redefined our scientific landscape, and the mother whose sacrifice made it possible. Please welcome Marcos and Mateo Serrano-Miller!"
Applause erupted across the grand ballroom—loud, thunderous, and seemingly unanimous.
Marcos and Mateo stepped onto the stage, joining their mother. Mateo adjusted the microphone to his height with an easy, confident smirk.
"Thank you, Dr. Ward," Mateo began, his clear, resonant voice captivating every ear in the room. "Thirteen years ago, a man who called himself a visionary told the world that ideas belong to whoever has the capital to steal them. He thought a name, an elite heritage, and expensive lawyers could erase the truth."
"He was wrong," Marcos continued, his tone calm, steady, and devastatingly sharp. "True genius cannot be bought. It cannot be patented through fraud. And as of tonight, the Prometheus system will be released under an open-source non-commercial license to every university in the free world."
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Gasps of utter shock ripped through the room. Tech CEOs gripped their champagne flutes so hard the crystal groaned. Open source? An eighty-billion-dollar proprietary energy monopoly, handed over for free to the public?
Before the uproar could fully detonate, the massive mahogany doors at the back of the ballroom slammed open with a violent, resounding crash.
