Pregnant Researcher Celeste Novak Publicly Humiliated by Mother-in-Law at Foundation Gala — But Her Single Call Exposed a $50 Million Deception
The encrypted folder from my father’s laptop pulsed with unanswered questions.
I knew I couldn’t decrypt its contents immediately; it required a clear head and focused effort.
But the sheer existence of it, combined with the evidence from Finch, fueled a new kind of resolve.
Just as I was about to dive back into the files, my phone buzzed with an incoming message from Aris.
It was a series of forwarded texts, his name appearing as the sender.
“Celeste, I think you need to see these,” his accompanying message read, his anxiety palpable even in text.
I opened the first image.
It was a screenshot of a text message from Vivian Alcott to Aris.
“Dr. Caldwell,” it began, its tone deceptively polite.
“I trust you are reconsidering your position regarding Dr. Novak’s daughter.”
“Your grant application for the xenotransplantation project is awaiting final approval. Don’t let personal loyalties cloud your judgment.”
The next message was even more chilling.
“I hear rumblings about your team’s funding being ‘diverted’ to more promising areas,” Vivian wrote, her words a veiled threat.
“A simple public statement, reaffirming the Foundation’s stance on Ms. Novak’s ’emotional distress,’ would clear things up nicely.”
My blood ran cold.
This was not just institutional pressure; it was outright blackmail, delivered with Vivian’s signature blend of civility and malice.
The mention of his xenotransplantation project, a passion project Aris had poured years into, was a precise, targeted attack.
She knew exactly where to hit him.
Another text from Vivian, sent only yesterday, was a cruel escalation.
“We need you to actively participate in the ‘remediation’ efforts for Ms. Novak’s research,” it read.
“This includes publicly denouncing her ‘unfounded accusations’ and highlighting the Foundation’s commitment to ethical oversight.”
This wasn’t just about passive compliance.
Vivian wanted Aris to actively undermine me, to become an instrument of her public smear campaign.
She wanted him to betray my father’s memory and my scientific integrity.
The text thread ended with Aris’s last, desperate reply to Vivian.
“Ms. Alcott, I cannot ethically do what you are asking,” he wrote, his fear evident.
“It goes against everything I believe in.”
There was no response from Vivian in the screenshots.
Just the silent, looming threat of her power.
I called Aris immediately, my voice tight with concern.
“Aris, she’s trying to make you publicly betray me,” I said, the words heavy.
“She wants you to lie, to actively participate in ruining my reputation.”
“I know,” he responded, his voice sounding hollowed out.
“She called me this morning, too. She said if I didn’t come around by the end of the day, my entire lab would be ‘repurposed’.”
The word “repurposed” held a chilling finality.
It meant his team would be disbanded, his years of work swept aside.
“She also asked me to ‘strategically leak’ some of my own preliminary data,” Aris confessed, the shame evident in his tone.
“Data that would ostensibly contradict some of your father’s foundational findings, implying you misinterpreted them.”
This was a new low, a specific and truly vile form of scientific sabotage.
She wasn’t just discrediting me; she was trying to warp the scientific record itself.
“I won’t do it, Celeste,” he vowed, his voice gaining a shaky resolve.
“I can’t. Your father… he taught me better.”
“Thank you, Aris,” I said, a surge of gratitude washing over me.
“For everything.”
The conversation was short, but it showed the immense pressure Aris was under.
His internal struggle was real, his moral compass fighting against the powerful pull of Vivian’s threats.
He was caught between his ethical obligations and his own career survival.
His courage, even in the face of such overwhelming odds, gave me a renewed sense of hope.
It confirmed that even within the corrupt Alcott Foundation, there were still pockets of integrity.
I knew then that I had to act quickly, not just for myself, but for others like Aris, trapped under Vivian’s thumb.
The thought of her orchestrating such a widespread campaign of deceit, even trying to corrupt his scientific data, intensified my fury.
Her malice was pervasive, her reach far-reaching.
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