Chapter 287: Dorian’s Counter

William finally looked at him... and smiled.

He didn’t get to see his eldest son worried very often.

Fitzgerald noticed the smile immediately. It reached his father’s eyes, and for some reason, that made him instinctively lean back.

Was that even his father?

Then the realization hit him.

He had been feeling too much lately. Concern. Attachment. Anger. Affection. Even something dangerously close to happiness.

Was feeling worth it if it dulled his mind like this?

"Who told you social media can’t be manipulated?" William asked calmly. "A celebrity says something stupid, and suddenly the entire internet drops one controversy like a hot potato and moves on to the next talking point. Influence can be bought, son. Everything has a price."

Fitzgerald furrowed his brows.

His father wasn’t wrong.

But something still wasn’t right.

"You aren’t helping Dorian."

William said nothing.

Fitzgerald noticed that his father was doing nothing. He would certainly have noticed Maximilian Whitmore. And he had the resources to divert the public’s attention exactly as he had described. Yet he wasn’t doing anything.

Dorian was proud. He would never ask for help directly, even when he needed it. That was precisely why he had tried to bring the Rathbourne family into his corner—to make them ride or die with him.

But Fitzgerald knew his father.

The one thing William cared about above everything else was the strength of his company. And the strength of his company depended on one thing above all.

Money.

Yet here he was, sitting calmly while BioQuant’s stock began to fall.

It was stupidity.

And William Rathbourne was not stupid.

Unless...

"You never intended to help Dorian, did you?"

William’s lips curved into a smirk.

He turned his face away. He didn’t answer. But there was something in his expression that Fitzgerald had never seen directed at him before. He had seen it on the faces of coaches when they talked about their prized players after a championship victory.

Pride.

Was his father proud of him?

No. That couldn’t be it.

William finally looked back at him.

"He sat in my office, admitted he killed my son, and expected my family to support his goddamn company."

His voice remained low, but his cheeks trembled.

His hands curled into fists against the armrests, the muscles in his forearms tightening beneath his tailored suit.

His father was angry.

Truly angry. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ

For me?

Fitzgerald studied him carefully.

Something was fishy.

He knew his father. William Rathbourne didn’t retaliate by putting himself on the line. He used other people. He was a tactician, not a warrior who stepped onto the battlefield himself.

So what was going on?

"You never should have gotten involved with him," William said, disappointment darkening his face. "You never should have wanted to go against the Preston family."

Fitzgerald’s brows drew together.

His brother had always tried to make him stay away from Dorian. Could that have been on his father’s orders?

"Are you scared of the Preston family, Father?"

Fitzgerald paused.

His father wasn’t a straightforward man. There had to be something beneath this.

William simply shook his head.

Then he sighed.

-----

Senator Campbell was pleased. Very pleased.

His plan was working. Other senators had already begun surrounding him, demanding details about the evidence and asking what exactly he intended to do next.

Then the Senate Majority Leader called him aside.

"You’re trying to destroy a company before the facts have even been established. Quit it."

Campbell smirked. "I have all the proof I need right here, Leader."

The Majority Leader clenched his jaw, his arms resting heavily across his stomach.

"You’ve poked the wasp’s nest, Campbell."

He leaned closer, his breath hot against Campbell’s ear.

"You know what happens to people who blow the whistle on Big Pharma."

Campbell’s heart pounded.

He did know.

He liked his position. He liked his money. And he certainly didn’t want to end up in federal prison.

But more importantly... He wanted to stay alive.

Dorian Blackwood had killed his own grandfather and his most loyal secretary. He was not some nobody Campbell could afford to underestimate.

The Majority Leader saw the fear spread across his face.

"You want me to protect you from that ethics investigation?" he asked. "Fine. Then you stop this."

He poked Campbell firmly in the chest before turning away.

Campbell blinked. "But how? I’ve already—" His gaze darted toward the reporters outside. "The media..."

"I’ll buy you some time."

The Majority Leader continued walking.

"Fix it."

Meanwhile, in Dorian’s office, his eyes remained fixed on the screen.

BioQuant’s stock was falling.

"Get to it!"

His voice cracked across the room.

The PR team scrambled into action.

Within minutes, millions of dollars were transferred into carefully selected accounts. Political influencers began posting across social media, some releasing polished statements while others went live, depending on how much they had been paid.

"Let’s take a step back," one influencer said during a live broadcast. "Yesterday, this company announced what may be one of the greatest medical breakthroughs in decades. Today, before any federal investigation has even begun, we’re being told to believe the entire company is criminal."

Another followed.

"We should absolutely investigate credible allegations. But if foreign interests have infiltrated our Congress and Senate, and are deliberately trying to destroy one of our nation’s most reputable pharmaceutical companies, that’s an entirely different matter."

"Obviously a foreign attack," another declared.

"And Senator Campbell?" A political commentator scoffed. "Isn’t it obvious this is simply a distraction from his own scandal? By now, the committee should have gathered. He should have presented the evidence. Where is he? Where is the evidence?"

The hashtag appeared.

#ShowUsTheEvidence

#NoEvidence

Within minutes, the narrative began shifting.

People who had been questioning BioQuant were suddenly defending it. Support surged across social media.

But Dorian knew better.

Social media support would not magically restore the value of his company’s stock.

The stock market wasn’t voting on patriotism.

It was pricing the probability that BioQuant could face criminal prosecution, regulatory action, loss of licenses, lawsuits, executive arrests, the loss of its Alzheimer’s product, and potentially enormous financial penalties.

At 10:30 a.m., BioQuant released its formal statement.

"BioQuant categorically denies the allegations made today. The company has retained an independent outside law firm to conduct an immediate review of the documents presented by Senator Campbell."

Then came the sentence Dorian knew the market needed.

"The Alzheimer’s treatment remains supported by the clinical evidence previously released by BioQuant, and no evidence presented today calls into question its safety or efficacy."

Dorian watched the graph.

The fall slowed.

Then slowed again.

His lips curved into a victorious smirk. Not a victory; not yet. But enough.

"And now, Dr. Vale," Dorian said, buttoning his pinstriped suit, "the rest is in our hands."

He walked toward the press conference with an almost unnerving calm. The event was broadcast live across news networks and social media platforms.

Across the city, William Rathbourne watched the broadcast with his fists clenched. "I knew he was smart," he muttered.

Fitzgerald’s lips curved too.

This was truly an impressive battle.

So... Catherine Preston... What are you going to do next? Or is this it?