Before she could snatch the USB, Scarlett intercepted with swift decisiveness. Wasting no time on theatrics, she played the surveillance footage on the projection screen behind her. It unfolded a damning narrative in stark clarity—Olivia and Ryan entering the boutique’s VIP suite, animated discussions, laughter rife with conspiratorial undertones, parting with smug satisfaction etched across their faces.

Scarlett turned sharply toward Ryan, her tone razor-edged as she ...