My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 783

Chapter 783

Dad’s shoulders sank slightly. He closed his eyes for a moment, then let out a slow breath, “Yes,” he said quietly.” Unfortunately… it was all a lie.”

There was remorse in his eyes, but it wasn’t for the lives he’d destroyed. It was for the fact that his precious research had failed.

The anger came rushing back, “If you knew that…” I snapped, “If you knew the research was fake, if you knew Vance had been lying to you for twenty-five years, then why? Why restart it?”

The words burst out of me.

“Why six months ago? Why bring him back? Why find another location? Why pour money into it again?”

I pointed toward the files scattered across the floor.

“You knew it was bullshit! You knew what he did to me never worked. You knew what happened to Gio. You knew the entire fucking thing was built on lies, and you still went back to him. Why?”

Dad said nothing.

My chest rose and fell sharply.

“Why go through the fucking Council to get me back? Why fight to bring your so-called primary subject home if the research was worthless?”

Leone shifted beside him. His expression had changed. The patience he’d been pretending to have was gone. He looked at me with open irritation, “Because you don’t understand what this is anymore, Gianna.”

I turned toward him,.”Then explain it.”

His jaw tightened, “It’s not a fucking treatment program anymore.”

My anger faltered for half a second, “What?”

Leone looked at my father for permission but Dad said nothing, so he nodded to himself and looked back at me, It’s an organ trafficking operation, Gianna.”

My stomach turned, “You’re lying.”

Leone shrugged, “No, I’m not. After Vance left, we didn’t just shut the whole thing down and forget about it. We spent two years trying to find out whether any part of his research had ever meant anything.”

He gestured toward the files.

“We brought in specialists. Neurologists. Surgeons. Researchers from different countries. Independent teams. We paid for scans, tests, reviews, everything.”

His laugh was bitter.

“Millions,” he stepped farther into the room, “Millions of dollars went into trying to prove that bastard wasn’t completely full of shit.”

My throat tightened, “And?”

“And nothing. Nothing we could verify. Nothing that could justify what he’d done,” Leone pointed toward the shelves, “Those ‘successful’ cases? Most of them fell apart when independent doctors looked at them. Those

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people never had dyslexia to begin with. All of the records had been changed. Some of the results couldn’t be reproduced. We had spent years and millions chasing an answer that didn’t exist.”

He looked toward Dad again, disappointed and pissed off.

Hus eyes met mine, “And all of it nearly destroyed us.”

I swallowed, suddenly it all fell into place, “You went bankrupt.”

“More than once,” he snapped. “We burned through fortunes trying to prove Vance’s work was real. Money went out faster than we could replace it.”

My eyes slowly shifted toward Dad, “So that’s why you brought him back. You brought Dr. Vance back to make money?”

Leone’s face hardened, “Yes. Dr. Vance was the only man who knew how to keep the subjects alive.”

I froze.

Leone continued, “Vance had spent years learning how much the human body could take. He knew how to keep a subject alive through procedures that should have killed them. How to push the body, damage it, operate on it, and keep it functioning.”

My blood went cold, “You mean…”

“Yes.”

My stomach twisted so violently I nearly stepped back.

His voice stayed devoid of any emotion, “We didn’t need Vance to cure anyone anymore. We needed him to keep merchandise alive long enough to harvest what we needed.”

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