While My Husband Cheated I Married His Powerful Brother novel Chapter 90

Chapter 90: Chapter 90 What He Left to Rot

Veyra pushed open the bedroom door.

Her legs were heavy. Her shoulders burned. Sweat had dried on her temples sometime during the walk from the gym.

She crossed to the small refrigerator near the desk and pulled out a bottle of water. The cap twisted off with a crack. She drank half of it in three long swallows.

The training had been brutal. Leon had added weighted lunges and medicine ball throws. Her lower back ached.

She set the bottle down and reached for the hem of her shirt. She needed a shower.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

She glanced at the screen. Dr. Harrison and she picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Thorne.” His voice was warm. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Not at all. I just finished training.”

“How are you feeling?”

She rolled her shoulder. The joint clicked. “Sore. But good.”

Dr. Harrison laughed. “You sound like a soldier.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Good.” He paused. “What have you been busy with lately? I haven’t heard from you in a few days.”

Veyra sat on the edge of the bed. She looked at her reflection in the dark television screen. Her ponytail was lopsided. There was a smudge of dust on her cheek from the gym floor.

“Reading books,” she said. “To nurture my unborn child.”

Dr. Harrison laughed again. “That’s a new one.”

“I’m also waiting for a phone call.” She stretched her legs out in front of her. “The admissions office was supposed to contact me about my materials.”

There was a pause on the line.

“They haven’t called yet?”

“No.”

Dr. Harrison’s voice lost some of its warmth. “That’s not right. They promised to reach out within the week.”

Veyra said nothing.

“I’ll make some inquiries,” he said. “They won’t forget again.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. This should have been handled already.”

She heard him tapping on a keyboard. Then he spoke again.

“Let’s move on to better news. The SN1818 collaboration.”

Veyra sat up straighter.

“Since we released the news,” Dr. Harrison said, “over a hundred enterprises have contacted us.”

She blinked. “A hundred?”

“One hundred and forty‑three, as of this morning. And more coming in every day.”

She pressed her palm against her forehead. The number was too large to picture.

“Pharmaceutical companies. Biotech firms. Investment groups. Everyone wants a piece of your serum.”

Veyra looked at her hands. The black gloves were still on her fingers. She had forgotten to take them off.

“I knew it would generate interest,” she said. “But a hundred?”

“The market for a portable cardiac arrest treatment is enormous. Every ambulance. Every hospital. Every clinic.” He paused. “You’ve built something rare, Mrs. Thorne.”

She felt a flush creep up her neck.

“I’ve already narrowed the field to five enterprises,” Dr. Harrison continued. “The best of the best. Financially stable. Ethically sound. With the resources to manufacture and distribute at scale.”

“That’s... that’s amazing.”

“I would like to meet with you to discuss the details. Go over each candidate. Their strengths, their weaknesses. Their offers.”

Veyra nodded. “Of course.”

“When are you free?”

She thought about her training schedule. Leon had planned morning and afternoon sessions for the rest of the week.

“Not during the day,” she said. “I train until late afternoon. Evenings work better.”

Dr. Harrison did not argue. He had learned not to argue about her training.

“Tomorrow evening, then. Bordeaux 101. Seven o’clock.”

Veyra’s stomach tightened.

Bordeaux 101. The same restaurant where lunch had cost eighteen thousand. The same restaurant where Wesley Wynn had fired the waitress. The same restaurant where she had almost embarrassed herself in front of Dr. Harrison.

She forced her voice to stay steady.

“Fine. Tomorrow at seven.”

She heard him smile even though she didn’t see it. “Excellent. I’ll make the reservation.”

She opened her mouth to ask about the cost. Then closed it. She would figure out the bill later. She always did.

“Before I let you go,” Dr. Harrison said, “two of the shortlisted candidates are particularly promising.”

Veyra waited.

“One is a Mr. Zach. He runs a medium‑sized company. Very reputable. Very interested in SN1818.”

She nodded. She had never heard of him.

“The other is a Mr. Sonny.”

Her blood went cold.

“Mr. Sonny,” she repeated.

“Yes. He runs a pharmaceutical company. Solid track record. Good manufacturing capacity. He’s been very aggressive in pursuing this partnership.”

Veyra stared at the wall.

Sonny. It could be anyone. But she knew. She knew in her bones.

“Mrs. Thorne? Are you still there?”

“Yes.” Her voice was tight. “I’m here.”

“Shall I proceed with scheduling meetings for both?”

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