My Coldhearted Husband’s Regret

The Enterprise Excellence Summit proceeded with speeches and awards, but Veronica's mind was already miles away, focused on the imminent deployment of DataPulse's smart traffic system. The project, once just a meticulously crafted proposal, was now a reality about to be unveiled to the city.

Weeks of intense work followed the summit. Veronica, leading her dedicated team, oversaw the integration of their AI algorithms into the city's infrastructure. The launch day arrived, met with cautious optimism from the city officials and sheer anticipation from DataPulse.

The results were nothing short of revolutionary. From day one, congestion in the most problematic corridors dropped by an astounding 45%. Average commute times slashed by a third. The AI's predictive capabilities, its seamless coordination of traffic signals based on real-time flow, and its ability to preemptively suggest alternate routes outperformed every projection. Emergency vehicle response times improved dramatically.

The media erupted in praise. "DataPulse's Smart Traffic System: A Masterpiece of Urban Innovation!" one headline read. "Veronica Murray: The Tech Genius Redefining Our Cityscape," proclaimed another. Government officials lauded the project's success, holding it up as a gold standard for smart city initiatives. DataPulse's reputation soared to stratospheric new heights, and Veronica was universally acknowledged as the visionary behind it all.

Meanwhile, at Stellar, the atmosphere was starkly different. Niall had watched DataPulse's triumph with growing unease, which soon curdled into dread. Stellar's own autonomous vehicle project, once hailed as the future, was struggling. Their public demonstrations, scheduled to counter the positive press around DataPulse, were plagued by glitches. Sensors misread obstacles. AI navigation systems hesitated unpredictably at complex intersections. A minor software hiccup during a test drive with a key investor nearly caused a collision, only averted by the human driver's intervention.

The issues were deep-rooted in the core technology—the very technology Niall had acquired but never truly understood. Her team, competent but not groundbreaking, scrambled for fixes but only applied band-aids. The system's foundational logic was flawed, lacking the sophisticated elegance and robustness of Veronica's designs.

Panicked, Niall finally swallowed her pride and called Cullen. "Cullen, we have a problem. A big one. The autonomous system... it's failing. Publicly. I need your help."

Cullen, his attention increasingly divided between Dennis Group and the troubling news from Stellar, arrived. He spent two days immersed in code reviews and engineering reports with his top Dennis Group tech specialists. The conclusion was grim.

"It's not a quick fix, Niall," Cullen stated, his voice heavy with a frustration he rarely showed her. "The architecture is inherently limited. To reach the stability and performance you promised investors, you'd need to scrap and rebuild the core AI decision-making modules from the ground up. It would take millions more and over a year, minimum." He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The technology DataPulse deployed... it's a generation ahead. Veronica solved problems we're only just beginning to comprehend."

Niall's face paled. Cullen's words were a death knell for Stellar's flagship project and a humiliating personal defeat. The billion-dollar company, his grand gesture, was crumbling because it lacked the one thing he hadn't given her: genuine, unparalleled technical genius. The very genius he had dismissed and taken for granted for years was now the benchmark he couldn't reach, even with all his resources.

News of Stellar's troubles and DataPulse's stunning success reached the Crystal household simultaneously, plunging it into a gloom that mirrored Stellar's offices. Claude sat in stunned silence, while Bonnie ranted about "cheating" and "sabotage."

"How?! How does she keep doing this?" Jade shrieked, her hospital stay forgotten in the face of this financial catastrophe. Their hopes, pinned on Niall and Cullen's backing, evaporated like mist. Veronica's success was a mirror held up to their own inadequacy, and they hated the reflection.

Their prized project, won through connections, had failed. Veronica's project, won through sheer skill, was a resounding, public triumph. The message was clear: borrowed prestige was no match for inherent talent.