Chapter 301: Fighting Back

Dorian sat with his legs crossed, a gun resting loosely in his hand.

He had chosen a dark house far from his usual residences. He didn’t want to go home. Not yet. He needed somewhere quiet enough to think, somewhere no one would know to look for him.

Only yesterday, he had been soaring.

BioQuant had announced what was supposed to be the greatest medical breakthrough of the decade. Its stock had climbed. The press had been on his side. Catherine was supposed to be dead, and the Preston family was supposed to be too shocked to fight back.

Now, in a single day, everything had collapsed.

Dorian stared at the gun in his hand.

Where had he gone wrong?

Had it been trusting that Catherine was dead? Was that the mistake that had allowed everything else to happen?

His jaw tightened.

He should have taken everything from her phone. Every piece of evidence. Every photograph, every message, every file. He had her phone. So how had she managed to preserve enough evidence to destroy him?

His phone rang and it was the Senate Majority Leader.

Dorian answered immediately. “You’ve been avoiding my calls,” he said.

There was a pause on the other end. “I’ve been dealing with the fallout.”

“The FBI?”

“Yes.”

Dorian’s fingers tightened around the gun. “You can stop them from moving forward.”

“No, Dorian. I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I cannot stop a federal investigation.”

“Then delay it.”

The Majority Leader exhaled heavily. “You don’t understand. After what happened today, there is too much attention. If I interfere now, I’ll be dragged into it myself.”

Dorian leaned back. “Do you remember the Whitcombe hearings?”

Silence.

Dorian smiled faintly.

“You spent six months telling everyone that you had never intervened on behalf of Senator Whitcombe’s donors.”

The silence on the other end grew heavier.

“I have the recordings,” Dorian continued. “And the transfer records. I never needed them before. Don’t make me regret keeping them.”

“You’re threatening me.”

“I’m reminding you of our history.”

The Majority Leader’s voice hardened. “Even if I wanted to help you, I can’t make an FBI investigation disappear.”

“Then find another way.”

“Such as?”

“Drag it out. Make people forget. Redirect the investigation toward something else. Give the public another scandal to talk about. I don’t care how you do it.”

Dorian’s eyes darkened.

“I’ve lost my company. Fine. Companies can be rebuilt. Money can be made again. What I haven’t lost is my influence.”

He leaned forward.

“But if you decide to cross me now, you’ll lose everything you’ve spent your career building.”

The Majority Leader didn’t answer.

Dorian waited.

Finally, the man said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Do more than that.”

Dorian ended the call. He sat in silence for several seconds before opening another account.

Money had failed to save BioQuant.

But money could still buy time.

He transferred an enormous sum into the account the Majority Leader had used for years to receive favors without leaving his fingerprints anywhere near them.

The confirmation appeared almost immediately.

Dorian leaned back.

Everyone had a price. He simply had to remember what it was.

His expression hardened as another thought surfaced.

The video… The footage of Mrs. Lowe.

Someone had recorded that meeting. Someone had leaked it at precisely the moment he was most vulnerable.

Who?

He pulled out his phone again and began going through the names of everyone who had been present that day.

Then his eyes stopped on one name.

Renfield. Of course. He was the only one desperate enough, and cowardly enough, to betray him.

He immediately made a call. He didn’t answer.

Dorian didn’t sit idly. He hailed a cab. He stopped in front of a dark house. He smirked, looking at the gilded nameplate: Dr. Noah Renfield. He slipped in through the back door and made himself comfortable in the living room.

He dialed Noah Renfield again. The call connected, and it rang twice. Then… the door opened. The lights came on.

Dr. Noah Renfield stepped inside, carrying a briefcase and several files. He froze when he saw Dorian sitting in the darkness. He didn’t fail to notice the gun in his hand.

The files slipped from his hand and scattered across the floor. Noah stared at him. Dorian slowly raised his eyes.

“How much did your betrayal pay?”

Noah’s face drained of color. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You trusted them.” Dorian’s voice was almost conversational. “And where did that leave your daughter?”

Noah swallowed.

Dorian placed the gun on the table.

“Ashley is going to be investigated. Your daughter has spent years taking credit for work that wasn’t hers, and now Dr. Eileen Morcant has begun pushing for an investigation into the academic misconduct surrounding Helios, and you, who enabled her.”

Noah’s hands began to tremble.

“You won’t survive that,” Dorian said quietly. “Neither will your daughter.”

Noah stared at him, terrified. He knew exactly what Dorian was capable of.

“What do you want?”

Dorian smiled.

“That’s the right question.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Now we’re going to talk about the camera in that conference room.”

Noah’s lips parted, but no words came out.

His eyes drifted toward the gun on the table.

“I…” He swallowed and looked away. “I thought I’d be spared.”

Dorian said nothing.

Noah’s shoulders sagged. “I thought if I helped them expose you, they would leave my family alone. Instead, they ruined my daughter and used me to destroy everything I’ve spent my life building.”

A faint smile touched Dorian’s lips. “You still have a choice, Dr. Renfield.”

Noah looked at him.

“If you don’t want to lose your credentials.”

That caught him. Noah’s expression sharpened with reluctant interest. “What do you want me to do?”

Dorian leaned forward. “Nothing complicated. I need someone credible to raise a question.”

“What kind of question?”

“A methodological one.”

Noah frowned.

Dorian continued calmly, “Have someone say that Dr. Preston has identified a serious methodological concern in BioQuant’s research. That’s all.”

“And then?”

“Then we make the public understand the difference between identifying a methodological question and proving that an entire research program is fraudulent.”

Noah stared at him.

Dorian’s smile widened.

“They’re scientists. They built their case on scrutiny and reproducibility. So we’ll use their own standards against them.”

Noah understood.

“You want to make Catherine look unreliable.”

“Not unreliable.” Dorian corrected him. “Vengeful.”

Noah’s face tightened.

“She was BioQuant’s former researcher. She’s now accusing the company that employed her. Her family has financial interests. Her fiancé is dead. She has a personal history with me.” Dorian’s voice remained smooth. “We don’t have to prove that she’s lying. We only need people to wonder whether she’s telling the truth for the right reasons.”

Noah remained silent.

“I’ll take care of the rest,” Dorian said. “The lawyers, the media, the narrative. You only need to give them a respectable voice willing to raise the question.”

“And if I refuse?”

Dorian’s gaze dropped briefly to the gun.

Noah closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the fight had gone out of him. “I’ll do it.”

Dorian nodded.

“Good.”

He stood, picked up the gun, and slipped it into his coat. Noah watched him move toward the door. Just before leaving, Dorian paused.

“Dr. Renfield?”

Noah looked up.

“Make it sound like concern for scientific integrity.” Dorian’s smile was cold. “Those words make people very easy to manipulate.”

He walked out, leaving Noah alone in the dim room with the scattered files at his feet.

—–

On the way to the board meeting, William received a call from Dorian.

He answered almost immediately.

“Has the board meeting been announced?” Dorian asked.

Of course, it had.

The moment BioQuant’s stock began collapsing, the hyenas would come running to tear apart whatever remained of the lion’s catch. The company might have lost its reputation, and its stock might be bleeding, but BioQuant still owned patents for other medications, products sitting in warehouses across the world, manufacturing contracts, and enough valuable assets to make the carcass worth fighting over.

“I’m on my way there,” William said smoothly. “I tried calling you.” The lie came as easily as breathing.

There was a brief silence. “Take the chairman’s position.”

William’s brows rose slightly.

Dorian needed someone he could understand sitting at the head of the board. Someone he believed he could control. If William became chairman now, Dorian could always reclaim the position once the storm passed.

“That was what I was planning,” William replied.

Dorian seemed satisfied. “Good. I need someone I can trust in there.”

William’s lips curved faintly. “I’ll give you the good news soon.”

He ended the call.

For a moment, he simply watched the city pass outside the window. Then his smile widened. Dorian Blackwood had just handed him exactly what he wanted.

William leaned back in his seat.

—–

“You cannot stop the FBI from investigating this!”

Alexander threw the files onto the Senate Majority Leader’s desk.

The older man barely flinched. He simply sighed and rubbed his temples. “Do you know what time it is? I haven’t even had dinner yet.”

“I know exactly what time it is, and I know exactly what you’re doing!”

The senator sighed. “You’re a lawyer, Preston. You know what slander is.” The Majority Leader leaned back in his chair. “I never said the FBI shouldn’t investigate BioQuant. I’m saying the insider-trading complaints need to be investigated first. BioQuant will be investigated.”

Alexander’s jaw tightened.

He knew exactly what they were doing.

Delay it.

Let the attention move elsewhere. Give BioQuant enough time to destroy evidence, reshape the narrative, and make Catherine’s accusations look like nothing more than a corporate dispute.

His fingers curled around the edge of the desk.

For one brief moment, his eyes landed on the heavy statuette sitting nearby. He could imagine exactly what it would feel like against the senator’s face.

Before his temper could get the better of him, the office door opened.

An aide stepped inside.

“Sir, James Preston is here.”

Alexander’s head snapped toward him.

The aide hesitated.

“And he says he won’t leave without seeing you.”

Alexander went still.

For a moment, he simply stared at the man.

“Dad?”

The Majority Leader’s expression changed.

James Preston had come personally.

That was never a good sign.

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