To my horror, the lab’s security alarm went off.
Right after, Arabella posted on Instagram again:
[My graduate thesis is almost done! A rising star in biotech is born! ✨]
In the photo, she was wearing a lab coat with a full face of makeup.
She wasn't even wearing a mask, just posing next to an electron microscope. In her hand was my research log.
The lab’s alarm continued to blare.
On the security footage, the two of them were pressed tightly together on a sterile workbench.
Arabella's lab coat was wide open, her skirt hiked to her waist. Her eyes were glazed over as she straddled Rhys, her mouth half-open, riding his every thrust.
My pristine white lab coat, which I had always taken such care of, lay on the floor, its buttons ripped off.
Even though I’d long known Rhys didn’t love me, seeing my years of hard work desecrated like this still hurt more than I expected.
I wiped the tears from my face with the back of my hand, furious at myself for crying.
I raced to the lab.
Rhys and Arabella were tangled in a heated embrace on the workbench.
The air was thick with the sickeningly sweet smell of semen and perfume.
“Trespassing in a restricted lab, stealing core data—I can sue you both until you’re bankrupt!”
Interrupted, Rhys wiped the lipstick from his mouth, clearly irritated.
“Oh, come on, Sloane. I’ve invested in at least half of this lab. It’s just some data!”
“Your research will be published eventually anyway. So what if Arabella uses some of it for her thesis?”
“Besides, your therapy isn't patented yet. First to publish gets the credit. You know that, right?”
I couldn’t believe his audacity. I pointed to the security camera.
“All the evidence is right there.”
Rhys sneered.
“God, the things you do to get my attention.”
I felt the air around me crackle with rage.
Perhaps because he’d never seen me so furious, he hesitated for a moment.
Just then, another message from my father arrived: [He’s landed. He’ll be at the dinner at Canlis tonight.]
The attached photo showed a tall man in sunglasses, pulling a suitcase as he strode through Seattle-Tacoma International Airport.
He was dressed in a sharp black suit, a cool, dark silhouette against the airport's bustle.
It was Rhys’s brother, Elias Beaumont.
My fiancé.
At the same time, Rhys seemed to have received a message too.
His previous look of concern instantly shifted to one of confidence.
“Sloane, if you really want to take this to court, go ahead.”
“But don’t say I didn’t warn you—my brother is the top IP lawyer in the Pacific Northwest.”
He took out a cigarette and was about to light it.
“No smoking in the lab!”
I finally grabbed a beaker and flung the deionized water at his head.
Ignoring the man’s curses and the woman’s screams behind me, I turned and walked away.
That evening, at Canlis restaurant, was the dinner meant to solidify the business alliance between the Caldwell and Beaumont families.
Unexpectedly, Rhys brought Arabella. I deliberately sat far away from them.
Seeing my foul mood, Rhys smugly sat down next to me, draping his arm over the back of my chair. He blew smoke rings with a smirk.
“Who upset our little scientist?”
“Tired of playing hard to get? Trying a new tactic to provoke me?”
When I didn't react, he leaned closer.
“I can take you throwing water at me as foreplay, but you scared Arabella. After dinner, you need to apologize to her.”
Noticing my bare fingers, he frowned.
“Where’s the ring I gave you?!”
I finally turned to look him in the face, my brow furrowed.
“You’re in the wrong seat. This is the seat of honor.”
My gaze made him instinctively stub out his cigarette, but he immediately felt he’d lost face.
“What’s the problem? This is basically our public engagement dinner. Shouldn't I be the center of attention?”
Before he could finish, the private room door opened.
A tall figure entered, his custom leather shoes making crisp sounds on the marble floor.
Rhys immediately stood up, looking down at me arrogantly.
“Still thinking of running to tattle? Well, my brother's here now.”
He turned to greet the man walking in, his face plastered with a fawning smile.
“Elias!”
