Chapter 291: The Trap

"There is no cure for Alzheimer’s. Not yet."

Maximilian was surprised too. He always thought that she had developed the cure for Alzheimer’s. She wouldn’t lie to him.

But then he thought about all their interaction. After a while, she stopped talking about " the cure" with him. She might have explained to him in all her rants about her work, but he never understood them. She looked too adorable when she talked and... that was all he remembered.

The room went silent.

Catherine’s expression hardened, as she continued.

"We can slow progression. We can manage symptoms. We can, with sufficient warning, potentially intervene before the damage becomes extensive. But once neurons are destroyed, we cannot simply replace them and restore everything they contained."

Someone called out, "But BioQuant says—"

"BioQuant says they have a cure," Catherine interrupted, still perfectly calm. "And I sincerely hope they’re right."

A pause.

"But hope is not evidence. Their cure... What do they mean by that?"

She looked directly toward the cameras.

"You cannot announce that a disease has been cured simply because you’ve produced an encouraging result. Alzheimer’s doesn’t merely damage a body. It progressively alters the neural networks through which memories, recognition, personality, and cognition are expressed."

Her voice remained measured.

"If BioQuant has genuinely discovered a way to reverse that damage, then they have accomplished something extraordinary. Something that would change medicine."

She smiled faintly.

The reporter’s question came from the back of the room.

"Dr. Preston, if your screening can detect Alzheimer’s before symptoms appear, does BioQuant’s treatment work at that stage?"

Catherine folded her hands loosely before her.

"In principle, that’s precisely when a successful treatment would be most valuable."

She paused.

"But whether BioQuant’s treatment works at that stage is something their clinical data would have to establish. I haven’t seen enough of their underlying research to answer that responsibly."

A murmur moved through the room.

Someone called out, "But BioQuant says their results are conclusive."

"I hope they are." Catherine smiled. "If they’ve found what they claim to have found, it would be extraordinary."

She glanced toward the enormous screen behind her.

"Perhaps we should let them show us."

Maximilian’s hands curled into fists.

Clever. Very clever.

Catherine wasn’t merely denying BioQuant’s claim. She was goading them into releasing the research themselves, here, in front of the entire world.

Dorian wouldn’t do it. Not now. BioQuant’s stock had begun falling again. Investors were already getting nervous, and some were selling rather than waiting to see how the situation unfolded.

If Dorian released the full research and anything was wrong with it, the damage would be catastrophic.

Maximilian’s fingers hovered over his keyboard. He owned fifty-one percent of the company. If necessary, he could apply a little pressure himself.

But that would be Plan D.

Catherine had Plan A, Plan B, and Plan C.

And she was still on Plan A. She hadn’t deviated even once.

So Maximilian leaned back. He would wait. He trusted her.

-----

Dorian watched Catherine on the screen. His fists tightened.

This woman...

He had thought she was dead. And now he understood. She was behind the commotion in the Senate. She had the evidence. She knew what he had done.

For a moment, nothing else mattered. He wanted to destroy her.

"Do what she asks," Dorian said.

Ashley Renfield’s lips curved into a smile.

Finally. This was exactly what she had wanted. Catherine had cornered herself. Once BioQuant released the research, Ashley would dismantle every argument Catherine made. She had overseen the work herself. She knew the data, the methodology, every detail.

And when she explained it to the world, everyone would see who the real genius was.

But Jonathan Vale wasn’t smiling. He was trembling.

Something was wrong... Everything about this situation was wrong.

The timing... Catherine’s confidence... The way she had carefully pushed them toward releasing the research...

Catherine Preston was many things. Stubborn. Arrogant. Infuriating.

But she was not stupid. She was brilliant.

And then he remembered...

That piece of research Catherine had helped them with. Those strange calculations scribbled across her papers.

His eyes widened.

That was it.

The missing piece.

"The research," Jonathan blurted, rushing toward Dorian. "Sire, we shouldn’t do this. Not—"

Dorian’s head snapped toward him. Jonathan swallowed but didn’t stop.

"But, sire— This is a trap!"

Dorian’s expression hardened.

His assistant immediately grabbed Jonathan by the arm and pulled him away from the stage.

"Wait! Listen to me!"

Jonathan struggled for a moment, but the assistant dragged him through the side door. The cameras never caught the struggle clearly.

But Catherine did.

She watched the live feed from her phone. Her eyes narrowed. Then her lips curved.

Of course. Dorian was still Dorian. Once he made up his mind, nothing could change it. Not reason. Not his advisers. Not even evidence that his decision might destroy everything he had built.

She remembered their previous life.

He had ignored her and the advisers who warned him against going to war. He had dismissed every voice that challenged his judgment until there was no one left capable of stopping him.

That had been his downfall then.

And now... She had simply pressed the same weakness.

His pride would not allow him to retreat from a challenge issued by the woman he believed he had destroyed.

Maximilian slowly withdrew his hand from the keyboard.

He hadn’t expected Dorian to fall for it so easily. Apparently, he had overestimated how much his past life had taught him.

His gaze shifted toward Catherine.

She was still seated on the stage, legs crossed, casually scrolling through her phone as though none of this concerned her.

Then she smiled... At something on her screen.

Maximilian’s lips curved.

She knew. She had known from the beginning that Dorian would take the bait.

And now... Plan A was still on schedule.

-----

Twenty minutes later, the BioQuant press conference appeared on the adjacent monitor. Ashley Renfield stood before a wall of graphs and equations, confidently explaining the mechanism behind the treatment.

Catherine watched in silence for a moment. Then she leaned forward and smoothed the front of her blouse.

"Could you enlarge that?"

Ashley’s jaw tightened. Of all things, she was still wearing that same cheap blouse. Hadn’t the woman enough money to dress like someone of her position?

"Which section?" Ashley asked, her irritation barely concealed.

"The second equation. On the left."

Ashley enlarged it.

Catherine studied the screen. "Stop there."

Ashley frowned. "Is there a problem?"

Catherine didn’t answer immediately. She leaned closer. "Where did the value for k come from?"

Ashley glanced at her notes. "It’s derived from the baseline neuronal-loss coefficient."

"I see." Catherine nodded slowly. "And you applied the logarithmic transformation before normalization?"

"Yes."

A few seconds passed.

Catherine looked at the equation again. "No."

The room went quiet.

Ashley stared at her. "Excuse me?"

"You normalized it first."

"I don’t believe I did."

Catherine pointed at the screen. "Look at the denominator."

Ashley stepped closer to the monitor.

"Your source value is 0.25," Catherine said calmly. "But you entered it as 25."

Ashley froze. "That can’t be right."

"Check it."

Ashley checked. Her expression changed.

Bernice, standing near the microphone, whispered in disbelief, "That’s such a silly mistake... in research this important. Wow."

Dorian immediately stepped toward the podium. "That’s a transcription error."

Catherine looked at him. "Perhaps." Her voice remained perfectly neutral. "But let’s not assume that yet."

She turned back to the screen. "Show us the next equation."

Ashley hesitated.

Dorian’s expression hardened. Catherine was challenging him in front of the entire world. Who gave her the right?

He looked at Ashley and gave a short nod.

The next equation appeared. Catherine studied it.

"There." She pointed. "The value of k is used here."

Ashley swallowed. "Yes."

"And here."

Another equation appeared.

"And here."

The room had become almost completely silent.

Catherine continued, her voice measured. "And this is the value you ultimately use to calculate predicted neuronal preservation?"

"Yes."

"And predicted neuronal preservation is one of the variables used to calculate your treatment’s efficacy?"

"Yes."

Catherine nodded. "Then I don’t think we should call the first error a transcription error anymore."

Dorian’s expression tightened. "Dr. Preston, are you suggesting our entire study is invalid because of a single clerical mistake?"

"No." Catherine smiled faintly. "I’m suggesting we shouldn’t decide that yet."

She turned toward the audience. "That is precisely why scientific results have to be reproducible."

Then she looked back at the screen. "Correct the value."

Ashley’s fingers trembled over the keyboard. She could feel every eye in the room on her.

The reporters.

The cameras.

The scientists.

Even Dorian.

Her ears rang. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She wanted to scream at Catherine to stop humiliating her.

But Catherine simply watched.

Didn’t you do the same to me?

For once, Ashley knew exactly what it felt like to stand beneath someone else’s scrutiny with nowhere to hide.

"Correct it," Catherine said, louder this time.

Ashley did.

The numbers on the following equations changed.

Then changed again.

And again.

Catherine watched the final figure appear. She said nothing. Ashley stared at the screen, her face slowly draining of color.

Dorian stepped closer. He still seemed unable to comprehend the significance. "What does that change?"

Catherine looked directly at him through the screen. "It changes your calculated treatment effect."

Dorian pressed his lips together. "How much?"

Catherine glanced at the final figure.

"Enough that I wouldn’t describe these results as evidence of a cure."

The room erupted.