Chapter 33

Evelyn Roland leaned against the ornate pillar, her fingertips tracing the rim of her wine glass. A faint smile played at the corners of her lips. To her, this farce was nothing more than a poorly staged performance.

"Nathan would never do such a thing!" Victoria Lowell stormed into the center of the crowd, her delicate makeup twisting with fury as she clutched her skirt.

I stepped forward gracefully, the silk of my gown shimmering like pearls under the chandeliers. "Oh, dear sister," I sighed, shaking my head. "Your judgment in men remains as flawed as ever."

Victoria opened her mouth to retort, but I raised a hand to silence the murmuring crowd. "Since we're at an impasse," I said, sweeping my gaze across the room, "why not consult the surveillance footage? After all..." I paused meaningfully. "Machines never lie."

The ballroom erupted in murmurs of agreement. The elite exchanged knowing glances, none willing to miss this unfolding drama.

"Pull up the footage!"

"We demand the truth!"

Victoria bit her lip and summoned the manager. The middle-aged man in a crisp suit hesitated. "My apologies, but the hotel's electrical systems are undergoing maintenance today..."

I scoffed. Even a child wouldn’t fall for such a flimsy excuse.

"No footage means you can twist the truth?" Victoria lifted her chin defiantly. "It was you who seduced Nathan!"

Sebastian Valdemar stood by the champagne tower, his long fingers idly stroking the stem of his glass. He watched as the woman in the deep red gown smiled with the poise of a languid Persian cat.

"Does anyone have a laptop?" My cool voice cut through the noise.

Sebastian arched a brow. His assistant immediately handed over a sleek silver notebook, its metallic surface gleaming under the lights.

As I took the laptop, my fingers brushed against his wristwatch. The cold metal sent a fleeting shiver through me—a stark contrast to the heat of his grip on my waist the night before, when that same watch had pressed into my skin.

The keyboard clacked crisply under my fingers. Victoria fidgeted, her crystal nails scraping against the fabric of her dress.

"Stop pretending!" she snapped.

The blue glow of the screen illuminated my face. I didn’t bother looking up. "Patience. The truth isn’t going anywhere."

Five minutes later, I breached the hotel’s security system. The large screen flickered to life, revealing Nathan Evans sneaking into the dressing room with a lecherous grin.

Silence engulfed the ballroom. I closed the laptop and turned, my skirt brushing against Sebastian’s trousers. He gazed down at me, his dark eyes swirling with something unreadable.

"Now," I smoothed nonexistent wrinkles from my sleeve. "Who owes whom an apology?"