Billionaire's Captive Complete Trilogy - Stasia Black Page 0,170

even if she wanted to.

So, we’re managing to figure it out…

But for how long? That’s the thought that keeps me awake at fucking night. Everything’s too good right now. And in my life, nothing good ever lasts.

“Logan? Logan?”

My head jerks up and I look her direction. “What?”

Daphne looks at me quizzically. “I asked if you were done with that sample.” She reaches out a gloved hand.

“Oh, right.” I take the slide off of the microscope I’m looking at and hand it over to her.

She slips it into her machine and is immediately intent, examining it through the illuminated scope. She shakes her head, watching the same drama I watched a hundred times as it plays out. Our super T cell is introduced into a colony of diseased Battleman’s cells.

While our super T cell begins to attack the diseased cells, it simply doesn’t have staying power. It clones itself a few times but then all the clones die and the Battleman’s continues to torture for another day.

I don’t know how Daphne doesn’t shove away from the table and throw the damn microscope at the wall. I was tempted a few times in the middle of the night last night.

Daphne moves a few dials on the microscope to get a better view and then shakes her head. “They are so volatile,” she whispers. Then she grins up at me. “Our super cells are like Logan cells right now. Hot, angry, wanting to take out the opponent right away.”

I puff out my chest. “And what’s wrong with that?”

She raises an eyebrow at me. “It doesn’t always get the job done. This is going to require patience. And time.”

Then her eyes go distant and she starts to tap her teeth with the tip of her nails. A classic Daphne tell that she’s having a big idea.

“The current serum is made from the distilled essence from the x hybrida rose, right? From pulped petals and blossoms?”

Her bright green flecked eyes come to mine, lit with excitement. “But what if it’s like the yew tree?”

“The what now?”

“Taxol, from the yew tree!”

She zooms backwards and turns so fast with her wheelchair that she almost pulls a wheelie on her way over to a computer in the corner. I can barely keep up with her.

By the time I join her, she’s already got several webpages pulled up.

“Oh, Taxol.” I thought the name sounded familiar, but now that I see what she’s pulled up, I’m reminded of exactly where I’ve seen the name. It’s also a non-chemotherapy drug, developed from— “the bark of yew trees,” I remember out loud.

“Exactly,” Daphne says like I just solved the puzzle.

“What does that have to do with us?”

But Daphne has buzzed to the other side of the room and is pulling out several three-ring binders of old experiments off the shelf. She’s skimming through and discarding almost as fast as she can pull them down.

“Daph, what are you looking for?”

“I know when we first discovered the oncologic applications for the hybrida essence, Belladonna did studies on the properties of the entire plant. Where are those? Are they only at the Belladonna offices?”

I’m still not sure where she’s going but I can help. “I have copies of all of Belladonna’s records.”

She pauses a moment, her head swinging around my direction.

I hold up my hands in a what? gesture. “It was part of the deal when I bought the patents back. I said I wanted to know what I was buying and I wanted all accompanying research. I have copies of everything.”

This time it’s her shaking her head. “You conniving little…”

“Do you want to finish that sentence, or do you want help finding what you’re looking for?”

Her face stays hard only another moment before she breaks up laughing. “You’re incorrigible. But I guess you’re my incorrigible. Okay, get your butt over here and help me find what I’m looking for.”

I’ll accept any excuse to be close to her. I scooted over to her side.

“What is it that we're looking for again?” I ask as I start to sort through the endless shelves of binders. They could have sent the information to me digitally but that would’ve made it easy on me. Instead, boxes upon boxes of these binders were delivered.

“Ha! Sounds like Dad,” Daphne says before going a little sad. But soon she’s too busy flipping through binders, her eyes scanning pages, and she’s distracted, thank gods.

I grab a couple of binders as well, and am just about to ask again what we are looking