Chapter 82 Professionals
ANNA'S POV
And how was I going to get every single word?
Well, before I stopped here, I made sure to get a clear recorder device. I thought about using my phone at first, but then I realized we’re in a generation where every single digital thing done on your phone has a high percentage of it being tagged or blamed on AI. I didn’t want a situation where, when everything finally gets released, people or even James himself would suggest that the recording was AI-generated just so he could shield himself from the truth.
With this recording device, there would be no excuses and no doubt. People would hear his voice clearly, his words clearly, and they would finally see him for who he really is.
I pressed the red button gently, watching as the tiny light came on, signaling that it was recording. Once I was sure it was working properly, I slipped it back into my bag, positioning it carefully so it wouldn’t shift around. I stared at myself briefly in the mirror, adjusted my expression, and then turned away.
Time to play my role.
I walked out of the bathroom calmly and headed back into the lab. The moment I stepped inside, I planted a soft smile on my face, the kind that didn’t look forced, the kind James was already used to seeing.
“Hope I didn’t take too long,” I said as I walked back to my seat.
“No, you didn’t,” he replied easily. “By the way, would you like something to drink? Juice? Water?”
“In a place like this?” I said, glancing briefly around the lab. “No thanks.”
“If that’s the case, then let me continue,” he said, standing up from his chair.
“Yes, you were telling me about your medication,” I said smoothly.
“Yes,” he nodded. “The one for chronic eczema. I’m sure you know things have been going south lately. There have been cases where patients are starting to get symptoms of the disease again.”
“Yes, I saw that online,” I replied, keeping my voice neutral.
“And I’m sure you also know that if nothing is done about it soon enough, the board of directors will strip me of my position here,” he continued. “Everything I’ve worked for will be taken from me.”
“Oh no,” I said, feigning concern. “That sounds horrible.”
Holding back my smile at that moment took a lot of effort. Watching him panic, watching him slowly realize that the foundation he built his lies on was starting to crack — it was almost satisfying.
“But why hasn’t something been done yet?” I asked.
James hesitated for a moment before answering. “Well, I had a few plans to hire professional medical scientists who specialize in cases like this, but the prices they were asking for were extremely high. And right now, my financial background isn’t very stable.”
He walked a few steps around the lab as he spoke, clearly agitated.
“I also wanted to get more investors,” he continued. “Specifically the help of Mr. Quinn himself. But then I found out that you were now his daughter, and then…”
“Hold on,” I said, cutting him off.
He stopped mid-step and turned to look at me.
“Why do you need to hire professionals to fix the problem with your medication?” I asked. “I mean, it’s your drug. You created the formula. You should be able to identify the problem and fix it yourself without anyone’s help.”
James stared at me for a few seconds, then let out a dry laugh.
“Come on, Anna,” he said. “We’re all alone here in this lab. We both know I didn’t create it.”
My heart remained steady, my face unreadable.
“I just took credit for it,” he continued. “I stole it from you. That’s not my territory. I don’t know how to fix it or even where the problem is.”
There it was.
“I know you’re talking this way to remind me who created it,” he added quickly. “And I get it. You created the formula, and I stole it. That’s exactly why I invited you here today.”
His words sounded like the perfect melody to my ears. Every sentence landed exactly where I needed it to. Every confession slipped out of his mouth effortlessly, like he didn’t even realize how deep he was digging his own grave.
Still, I wasn’t done.
“I mean, the whole world thinks you created it,” I said calmly. “So I’m just trying to keep that façade up for you. As your friend.”
“Like I said, it’s just you and me here,” James replied. “The world isn’t here right now, so we both know the truth.”
He paused, then looked straight at me.
“I need your help, Anna.”
I leaned back slightly and placed a finger on my chin, tapping it slowly as if I were thinking deeply about his request.
“My help with what exactly?” I asked. “Be more specific.”
He sighed, the weight of desperation obvious in his posture.
“I need your help to fix this mess,” he said. “There’s no point in searching for hundreds or thousands of dollars just to hire professionals who might or might not fix the issue when I already know the person who created the formula.”
He stepped closer to the table.
“You,” he said. “You can fix it without any issues.”
“So,” I said slowly, “you want me — Anna Quinn to help you, James Reed, solve the problem with your medication?”
“Yes,” he answered immediately.
“The same medication you stole from me,” I continued, “and took full credit for?”
He nodded, shame flickering briefly across his face before disappearing.
“Yes.”
I leaned forward slightly, making sure my bag stayed close to him, close enough for the recorder to capture every single word clearly.
“And you’re asking this knowing fully well that you ruined my career, humiliated me, and took everything I worked for?” I asked.
“I know,” he said quietly. “And I regret it.”
“Regret?” I repeated.
“Yes,” he said quickly. “I was desperate back then. I saw an opportunity, and I took it. I didn’t think about the consequences.”