Betrayed? I Upgraded to His Billionaire Brother novel Chapter 192

**TITLE: Pushing the Edge 192**
**Chapter 192**

She didn’t dispute the fact that I possessed some level of skill.

Yet, the notion that anyone could create a drug and slash its side effects by fifty percent in such a brief period seemed utterly ludicrous.

The only way that could happen was if Professor Clayton himself had pulled it off.

But even he, with his advancing years and dwindling energy, might have struggled to achieve such a feat.

“But my mentor is Professor Clayton,” I shot back, my voice icy as I gazed down at her, unyielding and indifferent to her feelings. “The very same Professor Clayton you plotted to impress and ultimately failed to become a student of.”

I was alluding to that embarrassing episode when Zane had taken her to my mentor’s residence, desperately attempting to secure her a place in his esteemed circle.

Of course, that humiliation was etched in her memory!

She could vividly recall the way that old man had belittled her, leaving her seething with resentment.

Her eyes blazed with fury and disdain as they met mine. “You really think that after four years of college, you’ve absorbed all of Professor Clayton’s wisdom?”

Anyone familiar with the medical field, particularly in research, understands that mastery is not merely a product of time spent in academia. It’s a delicate balance of inherent talent and relentless dedication, countless hours of toil.

Everyone knows that achieving expertise in just four short years is nearly impossible. You might fool a few patients in a clinical setting, but in the cutthroat realm of research and development, things are far more complex.

Moreover, there were whispers that Professor Clayton had imparted his complete knowledge to only one protégé, a personal disciple whose identity remained a mystery to everyone else.

All others, it was said, merely scratched the surface of his teachings.

I regarded her, a smirk creeping onto my lips.

“Have you ever thought that perhaps I’ve studied under him for more than just four years?”

My statement caught her off guard. For a moment, she paused, then erupted into laughter, her eyes wide, as if I had lost my mind.

“What, are you seriously suggesting that you’re Professor Clayton’s hidden protégé? That’s absurd!”

If she were indeed the chosen successor of Professor Clayton, she would have established connections with every influential figure by now. She would be celebrated, successful, not toiling away in a lab, buried in research and development.

I gave a slight, dismissive curl of my lips. “Whether I am or not is of no concern to you.”

With that, I didn’t linger for her response and quickened my pace, eager to escape the conversation.

Amelia, however, was not one to let things go easily. She called after me, her tone laced with challenge, “Don’t you want to know why I’m here today?”

“I’m not interested.” I didn’t even bother to glance back.

I could easily guess her intentions. She would likely attempt to use Zane as a pawn to provoke me.

“We were in a meeting with Amelia,” I replied, meeting his gaze directly, deliberately adding, “Someone invested a considerable amount of money to fund her team and have her ‘collaborate’ on our project.”

Zane’s brow furrowed deeply at this revelation. “I wasn’t aware of any of this,” he stated plainly. “I had no part in it.”

He didn’t appear to be lying, which left me feeling puzzled. Before I could process my thoughts further, Zane continued, “It’s about time. Let’s go grab dinner. I’ll drive you home afterward?”

I was attempting to figure out how to graciously decline when Zane’s phone rang, interrupting my thoughts.

He pulled it out and answered right in front of me. “What is it?”

I could faintly hear Zane’s assistant mentioning something about a childhood photo of a little girl over the line. The next moment, I noticed Zane’s eyes narrowing, a look of intensity crossing his features.

“Send it to me. Now.”

“Yes, sir.”

A second or two later, Zane seemed to receive the photo. His gaze was fixed on his phone screen, unblinking.

From my angle, I caught a glimpse of the image – a little girl beaming with joy. It must be a childhood photo of Amelia, I mused.

Zane continued to stare at the picture, muttering softly to himself, “Why does she look so familiar…”