The noise of the Grand Horizon Tech Expo was relentless, a swirling mass of voices and flashing lights, the steady hum of conversation layered over the digital beeping of badge scanners and the whir of interactive displays. Adele Mercer barely heard any of it.
She stood motionless, her fingers tightening around the tablet in her hands, her mind still caught on the words that had drifted through the air like smoke.
“The gold isn’t in the chaos. It’s in what comes next.”
She had turned instinctively, expecting to find some familiar voice, maybe a colleague passing by. Instead, Cassian Vale had been there.
Not speaking. Just watching.
Now, as the moment stretched between them, he stood with the kind of stillness that made him seem slightly out of place—like a figure in a painting while the rest of the world moved in frantic brushstrokes around him.
Adele exhaled slowly, willing her pulse to settle.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she said at last.
Cassian’s lips twitched, but not into anything that could be called a real smile. “That’s because you asked the wrong one.”
She crossed her arms, forcing herself to ignore the way his gaze felt like it was peeling back layers she hadn’t even realized she had.
“Then what should I be asking?”
Cassian tilted his head slightly, the overhead lights catching the sharp line of his jaw. “Not how to capture more leads. Not how to fix a broken scanner. Not even how to justify ROI to the people who sign your checks.” His voice was calm, deliberate. Dangerous in its certainty.
“The real question is—what do you do with the moment after?”
Adele frowned. “After what?”
Cassian took a single step forward, somehow cutting through the chaotic energy of the expo with nothing but presence. “After the handshake. After the demo. After someone nods and says, ‘Sounds interesting, send me some information.’”
A ripple of unease passed through her.
Not because he was wrong. But because he was right.
She had spent years perfecting the moment of capture—optimizing badge scans, automating lead retrieval, ensuring seamless data entry into their CRM. But that was only the beginning.
The trade show floor was an ocean of fleeting conversations, of polite nods and rehearsed pitches. And yet, when the event ended, how many of those conversations actually turned into something real?
Cassian watched the realization flicker across her face.
“You’re not in the business of collecting names, Adele,” he said softly. “You’re in the business of what happens next.”
She exhaled, forcing herself to ignore the shiver running down her spine.
Sienna was watching the exchange with open curiosity now, but it was Dominic Hayes who broke the moment.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” he muttered, stepping closer. “Spare me the mysticism.”
Cassian finally turned his gaze to Dominic, regarding him the way someone might regard a locked door—not as an obstacle, just something requiring the right key.
Dominic folded his arms, his expression set. “We don’t need philosophy. We need solutions.”
Cassian considered this. “And what solution would you suggest?”
Dominic gestured vaguely toward the expo floor. “Do what’s always worked. You shake hands. You talk business. You follow up. The strong closers convert, the weak ones don’t.” His gaze flickered toward Adele. “All this automation? This tech? It’s just noise. Sales is about relationships, not fancy dashboards.”
Adele clenched her jaw, but Cassian only regarded Dominic with something resembling amusement.
“That,” he said quietly, “is the illusion you’ve built your entire strategy upon.”
Dominic stiffened. “Excuse me?”
Cassian ignored him, turning back to Adele.
“Tell me,” he said, “how many leads did you capture today?”
She glanced at her tablet, hesitating. “Just over two hundred.”
Cassian nodded. “And how many of those will turn into actual sales?”
Adele opened her mouth, then closed it.
She knew the statistics. Everyone did. A tiny percentage of event leads actually converted. The rest faded into the ether, names trapped in CRM systems, slowly withering into lost opportunities.
Cassian saw the flicker of hesitation in her expression. His voice softened, just slightly.
“But what if it didn’t have to be that way?”
Adele swallowed. “Go on.”
Cassian nodded toward her screen. “You’re tracking the wrong thing,” he said. “Right now, you’re looking at a list of names, maybe a few job titles, an industry tag. But what do you really know about them?”
She hesitated. “Well… we track their engagement at the booth. If they scanned a QR code, requested a demo—”
Cassian held up a hand, stopping her.
“No,” he said. “Not what they did. Why they did it.”
Adele’s pulse quickened.
Cassian tapped a single finger against the side of her tablet, as if the data inside it were whispering secrets she had yet to understand.
“Every person who stops at your booth is telling you something. Every choice they make—whether they linger, whether they take a brochure, whether they scan their badge—it all means something. But you’re treating them like static numbers, not dynamic stories.”
A slow realization unfurled inside her.
“You’re saying we’re capturing leads, but we’re not actually listening to them.”
Cassian’s lips twitched. “Now you’re asking the right questions.”
Adele’s mind raced. She had spent years optimizing events for efficiency—but none of that meant anything if the people behind the data were still just data.
Somewhere behind her, Sienna whispered, “Alchemy.”
Adele turned. “What?”
Sienna’s gaze flickered to Cassian. “That’s what this is, isn’t it?” she murmured. “Turning… base interactions into something valuable.”
Cassian inclined his head ever so slightly. “The first law of event alchemy,” he said, “is that the lead itself isn’t gold. The interaction is.”
Adele exhaled.
Dominic was shaking his head. “This is all just branding. Buzzwords. You’re selling snake oil.”
Cassian smiled. “No. I’m offering a map. But only to those willing to see it.”
Adele felt something shift inside her—some unseen door cracking open just slightly, allowing a sliver of light to seep through.
Cassian turned to leave.
“Wait,” she called. “Where are you going?”
He glanced back. “You’re not ready for the next step. Not yet.”
Her pulse kicked up. “Then how do I get ready?”
Cassian’s gray eyes locked onto hers. “Find me after the event.”
And then, like smoke dissolving into air, he was gone.
Adele stared after him, heart hammering, knowing one thing for certain.
She would find him.
And she had a feeling that when she did, nothing about her work—or the way she saw events—would ever be the same again.
