Then my father’s voice.

“One scandal, and hundreds of millions disappear.”

The music died one instrument at a time.

Part 3

For a moment, no one moved. Then whispers spread through the hallway like fire. My father lunged for my phone, but I stepped back, calm now, almost cold.

“It’s already uploaded,” I said.

Mateo’s face twisted.

“You planned this.”

“You gave me the material.”

My mother looked around at the guests, suddenly small beneath the chandeliers.

“This is a private family matter.”

A woman near the stairs said,

“A crime is not private.”

Elena stood beside me, one hand holding her torn dress closed and the other holding mine. Her voice was quiet, but it carried.

“He locked the hallway door.”

Mateo snapped,

“Prove it.”

I looked toward the ceiling camera. My father followed my gaze, and all the color drained from his face.

“You installed cameras?” he asked.

“You did,” I said. “After you accused the staff of stealing silver.”

The head of security appeared at the edge of the crowd. I had already texted him. He held up a tablet. The footage played without sound, but sound was no longer needed. Mateo blocking Elena. Mateo grabbing her arm. Elena trying to push past him. The dress tearing. Her scream. Someone gasped. Someone cursed.

My mother whispered,