Backstage, Catherine caught Jonathan and Ashley as they walked out.
"Dr. Vale, you know very well this is my research," Catherine blocked his path. She had no other connections in this field; Jonathan Vale had been her only one. She had trusted him, and that made this betrayal sting all the more.
Jonathan glanced around. Ashley stood by, inspecting her long acrylic nails, a faint smirk playing on her lips. Without lifting a single finger, that woman had managed to steal her work, and her name stood beside Catherine's now.
Who's the real talent here, huh?
Before Catherine could speak, Jonathan gripped her arm and pulled her into one of the empty rooms.
"You've done excellent groundwork, Cathy, but Ashley has the network, the investors, the name. You've gotta know how this works. Try to understand, Cathy. You'll get a mention on the final paper, of course."
Catherine's fingers tightened slightly. She forced a polite smile. "So, she gets the stage when it's over, and I get… acknowledgment."
Her phone rang; she silenced it.
"Recognition isn't just about discovery, it's about visibility. You're young; you'll have your turn. But right now, Helios needs funding, and Ashley's father sits on the board of BioQuant. They're willing to absorb us. It's a strategy, not betrayal."
He said it so smoothly she almost believed it… almost.
"Strategy," Catherine repeated, her voice low and steady, the word tasting bitter on her tongue.
He looked at her then, really looked, and smiled the way men did when they thought they still had the upper hand. "You're too bright to let pride get in the way, Cath. You want a future here? Be smart. Play along."
As he spoke, Ashley walked in, chin tilted, every step a quiet declaration of entitlement. She knew she was well-connected, and she had the means to get what she wanted, even if it meant stealing it.
"Is this about funding then?" Catherine asked.
If only they had been honest from the start. But now… He hadn't just betrayed her. He had traded her years of work, her credibility, for Ashley's father's influence and BioQuant's money.
Her phone buzzed again. It was her father calling. She turned it face down.
"Are you begging her, Jonathan?" Ashley asked lightly. Catherine glanced at him; he said nothing. It was as if Ashley had bought even his right to speak.
Catherine's jaw clenched. She had once thought Jonathan was someone to admire. Someone with integrity.
Ashley's laugh was soft, almost musical; the kind people mistook for kindness until they caught the edge beneath it. She tilted her head, her gaze sweeping over Catherine's high-collared blouse and tea-length skirt with idle curiosity, as though examining an outdated exhibit.
"What worth are you, really?" she asked sweetly, brushing an invisible speck from Catherine's shoulder. "With your matronly aesthetics and that… almost-clever brain of yours? It's adorable, really. You look like you got lost on your way from your father's barn to the faculty lounge."
Her smile deepened, perfectly rehearsed. "But this isn't the countryside, darling. This is academia. People don't get by on sincerity and hard work here. They get by on legacy."
She trailed her fingers over the lace of Catherine's sleeve with mock admiration. "A thrifted vintage Dior, is it? Charming. I'm sure it'll turn a few heads… among the interns. But investors? They prefer people with last names that open doors, not ones still learning which fork to use at dinner."
Ashley stepped back, her perfume cloying and expensive. "Still," she added, voice dipped in honey, "it's nice that you're trying. Every institution needs a success story to keep the donors feeling generous."
Catherine's phone buzzed again. She ignored it, but Ashley's eyes flicked down to the screen and caught the caller ID. Her lips curved. "Oh," she said softly. "Daddy is calling again?"
She tilted her head with feigned sympathy. "How sweet. He must still think hard work can fix everything."
Lowering her voice just enough for only Catherine to hear, she added, "You really should answer, Catherine. Men like your Daddy don't understand how easily their daughters get replaced in this world."
Replaced.
Catherine's heart squeezed in pain hearing that word.
Oh, she knew how easily a woman could be replaced. It was the same then. It was the same now.
Her spirit got broken. She clutched her hands so hard they shook. No matter what she did, how hard she had tried, this is where she ended up. In both lives… she ended up here…
Alone, betrayed…
Her phone kept buzzing. Through the glass wall, she saw people watching, those with curious eyes and hungry whispers. Ashley wasn't done. She never was. Every word that left her mouth felt like another pin driven into Catherine's skin.
Catherine finally answered the call and walked out of the room. Her father never called twice unless it mattered. "Daddy…"
"How's my Bitty Bean doing? Did it all go well?" James Preston's deep, loving voice filled her ear, warm enough to thaw something inside her.
Her throat tightened. She couldn't answer. She wanted to cry, to collapse into his voice, but she wouldn't worry him. "It went well," she managed, softly. "Daddy, you kept calling me." Her tone slipped into that old drawl, the one she could never hide when she talked to him.
"Did you hear her?" Ashley's laughter rang behind her. "What a wild imagination for a country bumpkin! Is daddy's lil' gal going to get the Nobel prize? Look at her!" she said, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Catherine's nails dug into her palms. In her last life, she had been a queen. In this one, she was a joke, a country bumpkin.
"Daddy?" she said again, her accent thickening. If this was how they saw her, so be it. What difference had her brilliance made, if they never saw past her roots?
"Are you alright, Bean? You sound… wrong."
A small smile broke through her shaking lips. Of course, her daddy knew. He always knew. He had loved her with the gentleness of a man who thought she was his second chance at life.
"I'm fine, Daddy," she said, lifting her chin as she walked down the hall. Eyes followed her, whispering, and judging, but she refused to bow.
She still had her father. She still had home. Not everything was lost.
"Alright, here it is," James said, his voice softening for her. "You'll be greeted by Hilbert Calhoun at the door. Go on a date with him, will ya? See how it goes."
Catherine blinked. A blind date? Now? She almost laughed. So that's what this was… her father's attempt at matchmaking, even now.
She knew her father was worried for her since she never dated, and she was different from other kids who were just being "kids". She just focused on her studies. But for him to go this far… She was just 21.
A bright lime-green sports car screeched to a stop at the entrance. A man in flamboyant designer clothes stepped out, spinning his sunglasses in one hand, gold chains glinting under the sun.
He pointed at her. "Caroline Preston?"
Catherine blinked, pulling the phone away from her ear. "Catherine," she corrected flatly. "Mr. Calhoun?"
"Yours truly!" he said, giving an extravagant bow. His entire being was a sharp contrast to the academic, serious aura around.
She almost winced at that kid. What a peacock!
Her call had already ended. That meant her father wanted this. That meant she'd try. And maybe, just maybe, walking out with this kid, this loud, ridiculous kid, was her way of leaving with her head high. He was clearly rich. The kind of rich that made people turn heads.
And right now, she needed the world to see her leave, not crumble, even if she was shattered into a million pieces inside. She might have lost her credibility and might never be accepted back in academia, but she still had her pride.
And maybe… she might see the man beneath that flamboyance, something her dear father had seen.
And about those research thieves… she had a plan to handle them.
Catherine stepped into the car, the hem of her skirt brushing the doorframe. Hilbert grinned, revved the engine, and the car sped off under the gaze of a hundred watching eyes.
Jonathan looked at Catherine leaving so gracefully. "How in the world did she know someone like that?" he asked.
Ashley too furrowed her brows. That woman knew nothing but locking herself in her work. She never even went out for drinks, since she was underage, and she wouldn't go out to enjoy herself. How did she manage to find some second-generation wealthy man?
"Do you think your plan will work?" Jonathan whispered.