Chapter 4

One months later, Serena and Lucas held their wedding on the same day Graham and I held ours.

Serena wore a custom couture gown and held Lucas’s arm. Lucas kept lowering his head to smooth her train and adjust her veil, every movement gentle enough to look practiced.

From a distance, they looked like a perfect love story.

Graham and I stood on the other side of the ballroom.

After the ceremony, the reception began. Graham stayed close to me with a glass of champagne in one hand. When a board member from a hospital network tried to pull me into a long conversation about “future collaboration,” Graham stepped in before I had to answer.

“Nora is off duty tonight,” he said smoothly. “Send the proposal to my office, and we’ll review it after the honeymoon.”

The man laughed and backed away.

A moment later, Graham pulled out my chair for me. He waited until I sat before taking the seat beside me, the gesture natural enough that anyone watching might have believed we were a real couple.

Across the room, Serena’s smile stiffened.

Her eyes lingered on Graham’s hand resting lightly against the back of my chair. Her face went pale for half a second before she remembered to smile again.

Lucas saw it too.

His expression darkened, and his grip tightened around his glass.

I looked away.

It was my wedding too. I had no intention of spending it watching Serena perform heartbreak.

By the time the reception ended and the guests left, I was exhausted. I returned to the bridal suite, kicked off my heels, and sank onto the sofa.

Then I checked my phone.

My notifications had exploded.

Serena had posted a long statement online.

In it, she claimed the core algorithm behind AsterDx had originally been hers. She said I had drugged her drink years ago, causing her to miss a critical research presentation, then stolen her clinical data and used her work to build my company, appear on television, and become famous.

According to her, she had been forced into the role of a quiet wife while I lived the life that should have belonged to her.

The comments were already brutal.

Nora Shaw stole her own sister’s research? Disgusting.

Serena is too kind. If my sister did this to me, I’d sue.

So that’s why Serena suddenly left the program back then. She was set up.

Boycott AsterDx. Academic fraud shouldn’t be allowed near patient data.

People called me a thief, a fraud, an embarrassment to women in science. Some tagged regulators, demanding an investigation into AsterDx’s clinical data.

The post had already been shared thousands of times.

I took screenshots and saved everything.

Before I could decide how to respond, someone knocked on the door.

My parents came in.

My mother entered first, holding Serena’s hand. Serena followed behind her with red eyes and lowered lashes, looking like she had been wronged by the entire world.

My father sat on the sofa with a dark expression.

“Give your sister the credit she deserves,” my mother said before I could speak. “Correct the research record. Add her name to the original work.”

Then she continued, faster now, as if she had rehearsed it.

“And transfer part of the company back to her. AsterDx was built on her research. It should never have belonged only to you.”

Serena whispered, “Mom…”

But she did not stop her.

My mother looked at me, eyes full of accusation.

“If you refuse, don’t expect to call yourself my daughter anymore. The Shaw family will not stand behind someone who steals from her own sister.”

My father said nothing, which meant he agreed.

I leaned against the arm of the sofa and looked at them.

“Mom,” I said calmly, “I’m Mrs. West now.”

My mother froze.

I continued, “AsterDx is no longer just my private project. Graham’s fund has invested in it. The company has outside shareholders, hospital partners, regulatory filings, and a board. My equity is held in a private trust under a prenup your lawyers begged me not to sign.”

The room went quiet.

I smiled faintly.

“So no, I can’t simply hand Serena shares because she cried online. I can’t add her name to validated research she didn’t do. And I definitely can’t rewrite FDA submissions because my family wants to protect her feelings.”

My mother opened her mouth, but no words came out.

“If Serena believes she owns the work,” I said, “she can file a formal claim. Through attorneys. With evidence.”

Serena’s face went white.

I looked at my father.

“And if you think you can pressure me privately, talk to Graham. Or better yet, talk to the board. I’m sure they’d love to hear why the Shaw family wants me to falsify research attribution after launch.”

My father’s expression changed several times.

He understood what my mother had not.

This was no longer a family argument in a living room. This was securities law, investor rights, regulatory compliance, and a biotech company with too many powerful people attached to it.

They could bully me.

They could not bully AsterDx.

My mother looked from me to Serena, suddenly unsure.

Serena stared at me with reddened eyes, but the tears had stopped.

“Nora…” she whispered.

I did not answer.

In the end, my mother pulled Serena toward the door. My father followed without a word.

Before the door closed, Serena looked back at me.

For one brief second, the wounded sister vanished.

All that remained was hate.

I picked up my phone, opened a new folder, and saved every screenshot of her post.