Chapter 292: Reclaiming What’s Hers

The room erupted. Questions flew from every direction.

Catherine raised one hand. "Please."

Gradually, the noise subsided.

She looked directly into the camera. "I want to be very clear. I am not accusing BioQuant of maliciously altering the data."

She paused a beat.

"I am saying that their published conclusion depends upon a calculation that does not survive correction."

Her gaze shifted briefly toward the figures on the screen. "And before anyone tells patients that Alzheimer’s can now be cured, I think we owe those patients the courtesy of getting the mathematics right."

She let out a slow breath. "This is exactly what I meant when I said we cannot give people false hope."

Her eyes moved toward the BioQuant feed.

"And the people who are going to suffer most from this aren’t sitting in this room."

She paused.

"They’re the patients. The families who have spent years watching someone they love disappear piece by piece. The people who heard the word cure today and allowed themselves, perhaps for the first time, to believe they might get someone back."

Her expression hardened.

"Dr. Frederick Glosner..." She looked directly into the camera. "Are you seeing this?"

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then Dr. Glosner appeared on the adjoining screen, his expression taut. "I’ve seen enough," he said sharply.

He turned toward the BioQuant researchers.

"If this calculation was presented incorrectly, then I condemn whoever was responsible for it. BioQuant must conduct its own investigation, and I will not stand here and defend negligence."

He took a breath, visibly shaken.

"I have nothing to do with this research. I was only here for Dr. Vale and..."

He stopped. Whatever he had intended to say, he abandoned it. Then he walked away from the podium.

The feed abruptly cut.

For a moment, Catherine simply stared at the blank screen. Then she exhaled.

"I can only wonder now..." Her voice was quieter. "...how they ever obtained the results they presented from their animal trials."

A murmur spread through the room.

"Because if the mathematical model supporting their treatment efficacy contains an error this fundamental, then we have to ask a very uncomfortable question."

She looked toward the cameras again. "Were those results ever as convincing as BioQuant claimed?"

A reporter called out, "Are you saying their animal trials were fabricated?"

"No." Catherine answered immediately. "I’m saying we don’t know." She folded her hands. "And that is precisely the problem."

Her eyes returned to the screen where BioQuant’s research had been displayed only moments earlier.

"You don’t go from we have promising results to we have cured Alzheimer’s without a chain of evidence that survives scrutiny at every step."

She shook her head slowly. "This is all so..."

She stopped.

For the first time, her composure cracked—not into anger, but disbelief.

"...reckless." She paused a beat. "And frighteningly so."

Just then...

The BioQuant feed flickered back onto the screen. Dorian Blackwood was standing at the podium again. His face had changed. The polished confidence was gone, replaced by humiliation barely held together by sheer fury.

"Catherine!"

Catherine turned toward the screen.

"If you’re so certain that our research is flawed, then show us yours."

The room stirred.

Dorian continued, his voice sharpening. "Show everyone exactly what you’ve done. Put your research on that screen. Let us compare it."

Catherine regarded him calmly. "You want me to show you my research?"

"Yes."

His jaw tightened. "Unless, of course, you have something to hide."

A few reporters murmured.

Catherine almost smiled. "I don’t."

She turned toward the technician. "Put it up."

The screen behind her changed.

Equations appeared first, followed by diagrams, molecular structures, experimental models and pages of research notes.

Dorian stared.

Then his expression changed.

"That." He pointed toward the screen. "That is BioQuant’s research."

"No." Catherine’s answer was immediate. "That is mine."

And in her heart, she smiled.

It was about time she reclaimed what was hers.

Dorian gave a short, humorless laugh. "Don’t insult everyone’s intelligence, Dr. Preston. That research was developed at Helios Biotek."

"Yes."

"You were employed by Helios."

"Yes."

"Then you were working on Helios’s property."

Catherine’s expression remained composed. "This is research I developed while I was working at Helios Biotek."

She looked toward the cameras. "It is also the research BioQuant used to develop the treatment it announced today."

Dorian stepped closer to the camera. "Exactly."

A ripple of murmurs went through the room.

"You’ve just admitted it."

"I admitted nothing of the sort."

"You used our research without our permission."

Catherine blinked once. "Your research?"

Dorian’s voice rose.

"You heard me. Helios Biotek owned that research. BioQuant acquired Helios. Therefore, the research belongs to BioQuant."

Another murmur spread through the reporters.

Catherine remained silent for a moment. Then she gave a small nod.

"I see."

Dorian seemed almost satisfied now. "Then perhaps you would like to explain to everyone why you’re displaying BioQuant’s proprietary research on a public broadcast."

Catherine looked at him.

"About that..."

She paused.

The doors at the back of the room opened.

Several people in dark suits entered.

They weren’t reporters. They moved with the deliberate, unhurried confidence of people who knew exactly where they were going and had no reason to hurry.

The first man approached the stage.

Catherine calmly watched the screen. He opened a leather folder.

"Mr. Dorian Blackwood?"

Dorian frowned. "Yes."

"I have documents for you."

"What documents?"

"Legal documents." The man’s tone remained perfectly courteous. "Please accept service."

Dorian stared at him. "Service of what?"

The lawyer handed him the first packet. "A complaint filed against BioQuant Industries, Dr. Ashley Renfield..."

Ashley went rigid.

"...and Dr. Jonathan Vale."

The two rooms erupted.

Ashley looked toward Jonathan, who had only just returned to the stage after composing himself. Whatever composure he had managed to regain vanished. Jonathan went completely pale.

"Wait," Dorian said. "What is this?"

Another lawyer approached Ashley. "Dr. Renfield—"

"Don’t touch me."

The lawyer calmly held out the documents.

"These are legal documents concerning the unauthorized use, misappropriation, and commercial exploitation of Dr. Catherine Preston’s proprietary research."

Ashley stared at the papers. Jonathan stood frozen beside her. The third lawyer approached him.

"Dr. Jonathan Vale."

Jonathan didn’t take the documents. "I don’t understand."

"You will have an opportunity to do so with your counsel." The lawyer placed the papers into Jonathan’s hands.

The room had become deafening. Questions flew from every direction.

"Dr. Preston, did you know this was coming?"

"Is BioQuant being sued?"

"Are Dr. Renfield and Dr. Vale personally named?"

"Did BioQuant steal your research?"

Dorian crushed the packet slightly in his hand. "This is absurd."

Catherine looked at him. "Is it?"

"You cannot claim ownership of research developed at Helios."

"I don’t."

She took a breath. "Helios doesn’t own it either."

Dorian’s eyes narrowed. "Your employment contract says otherwise."

"No." Catherine’s voice was quiet. "My contract says otherwise."

Silence.

She turned toward the audience.

"When I joined Helios Biotek, I negotiated specific intellectual-property terms concerning the research I had already developed, as well as research arising from my independent work."

Her gaze returned to Dorian. "Those rights were never transferred to Helios."

Dorian’s face tightened. "And you expect us to believe that?"

"You don’t have to believe me." Catherine gestured toward the lawyers. "You can read it."

She had always had that contract.

Her brother had written it for her, had fought to make sure her research remained hers even when she had barely understood how important those clauses would become. Yet when Ashley had told her that Helios had enough power to twist the agreement against her, Catherine had believed her.

Back then, she had felt helpless. She felt that it was unfair that she was able to create but not keep.

She had thought she needed to marry into a legacy family to break through the doors of academia that had been slammed in her face.

She did remember Maximilian telling her to use his name that day. Her lips curved unconsciously.

But... She had been wrong.

Yes, she needed help from her friends and family. She was standing here using their names. But more than that... she had needed to believe in the work she had done.

And now, standing in front of the entire world, she was proving it. She had proved herself.

One of the lawyers stepped forward, raising a copy of the relevant agreement.

"Dr. Preston’s contractual rights and ownership interests were documented before the acquisition of Helios Biotek."

He looked directly at Dorian.

"The acquisition transferred Helios Biotek’s assets. It did not transfer assets that Helios Biotek did not own."

A stunned silence followed.

Catherine looked at the research still displayed behind her. Then she turned back toward Dorian.

"So, Mr. Blackwood..." Her expression was almost sympathetic. "You were right about one thing."

Dorian stared at her.

"This is Helios research."

She paused a beat.

"But it isn’t Helios’s."

Her gaze sharpened.

"It’s mine."

The enormous screen behind her no longer looked like BioQuant’s evidence. It looked like a confession.

Another wave of murmurs swept through the reporters.

Then, suddenly, several phones began buzzing.

One reporter glanced down at his screen.

His expression changed.

"What the hell...?"

The reporter beside him looked over.

"What?"

He turned the phone toward him.

A video was playing.

The image was grainy, apparently recorded from a security camera, but the people in it were unmistakable.