Chapter 286: Shaking Foundations

Catherine watched the senator’s entire demeanor change once he understood what Alexander had brought him.

She had once been a queen, yet she had never been particularly respected for it. Perhaps she had simply stopped expecting respect altogether. Even in this life, she had never imagined people bowing before her, especially when she was the one asking them for something.

But her brother...

Oh, he was not merely her brother.

He had once been the Crown Prince. He must have dealt with nobles who challenged his authority in exactly this way—without hesitation, without apology, and with the absolute expectation that he would be obeyed.

Demanding respect.

Catherine found that she liked it very much.

The moment Senator Campbell opened the file, his eyes widened.

"This is..."

"Big enough to bury your scandal, Senator," Alexander said with a faint smirk. "Hurry. You have the morning."

The senator looked between them and swallowed.

From the sound of it, the Preston family was preparing to take down BioQuant—a pharmaceutical giant that had just made headlines by announcing a cure for Alzheimer’s.

He did not stop to consider whether going after a company that powerful might backfire. The evidence in front of him was too substantial: videos, financial records, communications, paper trails, everything arranged so neatly that even he could see the danger it represented.

Still, desperation did not make him reckless.

"Wait." He looked up sharply. "How was this evidence gathered?"

"I used to be Dorian Blackwood’s fiancée."

Catherine slowly undid another button of her shirt, revealing the bruises around her neck.

"Call me a woman scorned."

The senator’s gaze fell to the marks.

His expression changed.

Those were unmistakably signs of strangulation. The Preston Princess had been attacked, and her family had every reason to want BioQuant destroyed.

And if he passed up this opportunity, someone else would take it.

He straightened his suit. "Well, it’s 8:45 a.m."

The desperation was gone from his voice. Now, there was calculation.

He had a play to enact.

8:50 a.m.

Reporters spotted Senator Campbell leaving his office and immediately surrounded him, questions about the embezzlement allegations flying from every direction.

He let them ask.

He even appeared irritated.

Then, at exactly the right moment, he turned toward the cameras.

"Those allegations are insignificant compared with what I am about to reveal."

The reporters fell silent.

"I am going to the Senate floor because the American people deserve to know what this company has been hiding."

The questions came all at once.

"Senator, are you accusing BioQuant of criminal activity?"

"I’m saying I have documentary evidence of serious federal crimes. I will place that evidence before the appropriate authorities today."

The cameras moved closer.

Campbell looked directly into the lenses.

"And if the Department of Justice believes these documents do not warrant an investigation, they will have to explain that decision to the American people."

That was the line.

Within minutes, the footage was everywhere... Television, news sites and social media.

And while the world was still waking up, BioQuant’s carefully cultivated image had begun to crack.

-----

Dorian was happy.

For the first time in days, he felt like himself again.

His enemies were dead. Catherine was gone. Maximilian was gone. Fitzgerald who wasn’t even a prey, was gone. And BioQuant was thriving after the announcement of the Alzheimer’s cure.

Everything was falling into place.

He felt like a king again.

Opera thundered through his study as Dorian sat behind his desk with his legs crossed, a cigar burning lazily between his fingers. A crystal snifter of exceptionally old Cognac rested in his other hand, the amber liquid catching the light as he swirled it.

A satisfied smile curved his lips.

Then came a knock.

His smile vanished.

"Enter."

The door opened, and his assistant stepped inside, looking as though he would rather face a firing squad than deliver whatever news he was carrying.

"Sire..." He swallowed. "Alexander Preston met with Senator Campbell."

Dorian’s fingers stopped moving.

The cigar remained suspended between them.

"What?"

"The senator has just gone public. He claims to have documentary evidence of serious criminal activity involving BioQuant."

Dorian’s face hardened.

He immediately reached for his phone and called the Senate Majority Leader.

The man answered almost instantly.

"You and your party have decided you don’t intend to win another election in your life, have you?" Dorian asked coldly.

There was a brief silence.

"Mr. Blackwood, I assure you, I had no knowledge that Campbell was going to—"

"Stop him."

"Yes, sir. I’ll handle Senator Campbell immediately."

Dorian ended the call. His jaw remained tight as another call came through.

William Rathbourne.

Of course.

Dorian stared at the name for a moment before answering.

"I assume you’ve anticipated retaliation from the Preston family," William said.

"It’s handled."

There was a pause.

"Good."

The call ended.

Dorian lowered the phone slowly. His expression remained unreadable. But his eyes had hardened.

-----

Across the city, William Rathbourne ended the call and let out a long breath. He leaned forward in his chair and looked across the room.

Fitzgerald sat there freshly washed and dressed in a new suit, looking almost offensively comfortable.

Fitzgerald had expected many things from his father after he found his son alive. Relief, least likely. Anger, more likely, and many questions.

Instead, William had spent the better part of the morning acting as though nothing particularly remarkable had happened.

Fitzgerald started scrolling through social media on his phone with the detached curiosity of a man who had never encountered the internet before.

William’s jaw tightened.

"What’s the plan?"

Fitzgerald didn’t look up. A mocking smile touched his lips. "Scared of losing billions?"

William’s fingers tightened around the armrest.

For a moment, Fitzgerald wondered if his father had been genuinely happy to see him alive at all. He had not even asked how he survived. He had simply gone straight back to business.

William slammed his hand against the armrest. "What is the plan?" he demanded.

Fitzgerald’s smile disappeared. His lips pressed into a thin line as he slowly lowered his phone and finally looked at his father.

"How did you know I was alive?"

There was genuine curiosity in his voice. His father had rushed to make a deal with the very man who had effectively admitted to killing him, yet at the same time, William had been waiting at the airport like Hachiko waiting for his master’s return.

William sighed. "What is their plan?"

Fitzgerald smiled faintly and lowered his gaze back to his phone.

William’s teeth clenched.

Every instinct in him wanted to snatch the damn thing from Fitzgerald’s hand and smash it against the floor. But he had been raised to control his emotions, and decades of discipline had made that instinctive restraint almost automatic.

Unfortunately, this infuriating son of his had inherited that restraint and taken it somewhere far beyond what William had ever intended.

He had raised Fitzgerald to be emotionally measured.

Instead, his son had crossed into territory where even William sometimes wondered whether there was something fundamentally wrong with him.

The doctors had used words William still hated thinking about. Antisocial personality disorder.

And yes, he felt guilty. Perhaps more than Fitzgerald would ever know.

But William also knew something else. His son would not answer a question unless he received an answer first.

"The Prestons went silent," William finally said.

Fitzgerald’s eyes lifted.

William had been stunned when he heard the news himself. But he had acted immediately. He knew the Prestons. James Preston was too much like him. A man like that would not simply sit in his home, looking for puppies to adopt, if the apple of his eye—their Princess—had been killed in an explosion.

Fitzgerald’s lips curved. "A curious bunch, the Prestons, aren’t they, Father?"

His fingers idly fiddled with the edge of his phone. Then his expression softened.

For just a moment, William saw something he had not seen on his son’s face since... forever. Perhaps an expression he had seen when he himself was a teenager... Something almost boyish.

Fitzgerald was indeed remembering Samantha. "They’ll be our in-laws soon."

William froze.

That smile... It was the smile of a teenager falling in love for the first time.

And then came the words.

His son was talking about marrying the Preston Princess.

William stared at him.

Was Fitzgerald Rathbourne seriously planning to marry Catherine Preston?

Fitzgerald, completely oblivious to his father’s shock, continued. "They made their plans in Latin. I don’t know Latin."

His smile faded. His eyes sharpened.

"Dorian stopped the senator. The media can be controlled." He turned his phone toward William, showing him the rapidly moving financial figures.

"But social media can’t."

William’s gaze dropped to the screen.

"BioQuant’s stock is falling. It would be wise to pull out your shares." Fitzgerald’s voice remained calm. "At least you won’t suffer a greater loss."

William leaned back. For several seconds, he said nothing. Then he turned his gaze toward the window.

Fitzgerald watched him.

Something was wrong. His father wasn’t reacting. Not to BioQuant’s falling stock. Not to the Prestons. Not even to the possibility of losing billions.

He was stalling.

But why?

Fitzgerald slowly rose from his chair.

"What is your plan?"

For the first time that morning, the anxiety belonged to Fitzgerald.