Chapter 413

"Who do you suspect?" Beatrice Merouin stared intently at Benjamin Aldridge.

The corner of Benjamin's mouth twisted into a sneer. "Don't ask. You're out of your league."

When Ethan Winston spoke to her, he'd dance around the subject. But this person barged in and confronted her directly...

That was the weight of an academic titan.

Harvard could survive without a businessman's sponsorship, but never without a scientist capable of groundbreaking discoveries!

"Go home. A starved camel is still bigger than a horse," Benjamin scoffed. "You—you're not even fit to lick Eleanor Roland's boots!"

Eleanor could summon two power players just by lying in a hospital bed.

Who did Beatrice Merouin think she was?

——

Back in her office, Benjamin's words echoed in Beatrice's ears.

Not even fit to lick her boots...

Trembling with rage, she reached for a cup to throw—only to remember she'd already smashed them all.

All that remained was a pencil holder.

Bang!

It shattered against the wall, scattering pens across the floor.

Audrey Escent walked in, oblivious to the tension. "Auntie," she called, heading straight to the water dispenser for a drink.

"I'm parched..." She gulped. "Auntie, when will Victor finish my paper? My professor asked today. I promised it by this week—can you hurry him along?"

Beatrice's face darkened. "Do you think research papers grow on trees? You can't just snap your fingers and have one ready! Stop making promises you can't keep!"

The sudden outburst left Audrey stunned.

"Auntie..."

"Shut up! How many times must I remind you? At school, I'm Professor Merouin!"

"But there's nobody else here..." Audrey pouted.

"Walls have ears! One wrong word, and we're both ruined!"

Finally grasping the gravity, Audrey stammered, "Sorry, Professor! I'll remember next time! It's just the paper..."

"You're still on about that? Why not write it yourself? Evelyn Langley's team bought their own equipment—can't you draft your own paper?"

"Victor might help you once or twice, but do you expect him to do it forever? Once he makes his name, do you think he'll spare you a second glance?"

"I tried... I just can't!" Audrey's eyes welled up.

She'd boasted too much, built up her image—now she was trapped by her own lies.

Beatrice scoffed. "Stop sniveling! I'm not dead yet! If Evelyn's team can manage, why can't you? Clearly, your heart isn't in academia!"

"Always grasping for first place, yet falling short at everything. How did I end up with such a useless niece?"

"Get out—now!"

Audrey stumbled from the office in a daze.

She couldn't comprehend what she'd done wrong—why her usually gentle aunt had transformed into this terrifying stranger.

After the outburst, Beatrice's temper cooled slightly.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Enter."

Victor Dimucci stepped inside. "Professor, here's the latest progress report..."

Beatrice took the documents.

Her frown deepened with each page. "A whole month, and zero progress?"

"The cultured bacterial groups show inconsistent data. We're troubleshooting."

"How much longer?"

"...Uncertain."

"'Uncertain'? Solutions come from human ingenuity! This project has stalled for half a year. No results by year-end means zero productivity for the entire team!"

Victor remained calm. "Experiments require verification time."

Beatrice's lips curled. "Victor, you're intelligent. You know how precious time is. Spend years like Eleanor Roland without results, and you'll be obsolete!"

"You say the data varies—isn't reculturing meant to achieve consistency? If uniformity is inevitable, why waste time double-checking?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Consistent or not—who's to say it isn't our call?"

Victor's gaze turned heavy. "Are you suggesting...?"