Chapter 8

“Do you have any proof I stole something?”

I cut her off, raising my voice.

The crowd around us burst into mocking laughter.

“Proof? Please. She’s from an orphanage. How innocent could she be? Probably never even touched a gemstone before.”

“People like her grow up taking what isn’t theirs. Filthy habits, no upbringing—it’s pathetic, really.”

“Why don’t we search her? Make sure she doesn’t run off.”

A few male guests stepped forward, ready to grab me.

I yanked my arm free in disgust. Just as I was about to speak, Zamora’s soft, tearful voice broke through.

“Don’t do this. Maybe she just made a mistake… once.”

But that “kind” attempt of her to defend me only poured oil on the fire.

“Shut up,” I snapped coldly. “I’ll say it again. I didn’t steal your necklace.”

Her eyes reddened, her voice trembling as she choked out, “Issy… that necklace was a birthday gift from my dad. It’s really precious. If you like jewelry, I can give you something else. But could you please return that one to me?”

The gentler her tone, the more it sounded like she was shielding me out of pity.

One of her friends exploded. “You still won’t admit it, you filthy thief? You’ve got no parents to raise you right, so you’re jealous Zamora has a real family, huh?”

Face darkening, I pulled out my phone, ready to call someone to check the surveillance footage.

But before I could dial, a shadow fell over me.

Ross stormed in from outside the hotel, grabbed my wrist, and smacked the phone out of my hand. His voice was low and sharp.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

There was panic in his eyes, as if he was terrified I’d ruin the “business deal” he was working on tonight.

“Ross,” Zamora said tearfully, “Issy seems to have taken my necklace. Can you talk to her? Can you ask her to give it back?”

Her eyes glistened pitifully.

The moment Ross heard her explanation, his expression darkened. He turned to me without hesitation.

“Did you steal it?”

“I said I didn’t. Would you believe me if I did?”

I met his gaze. He froze for a second before looking away, his tone turning ice-cold.

“You took Zamora’s ring before, and now, you’re stealing again? How did you end up like this—so cheap, so shameless? What, your parents never taught you not to steal?”

I wasn’t even surprised.

“Ross, you could’ve just checked the security footage. At your company, you refused to see the truth, and now—this is a hotel full of cameras—and you still won’t check before judging me?”

“Sir,” one of his business partners said coldly, “just search her. That’ll settle it once and for all.”

“Empty your bag! Now!”

“Caught red-handed and still playing innocent?”

They closed in around me, circling like vultures.

“Issy,” Ross said flatly, “I’ll say it one last time. Hand over what you stole. Don’t make me forget we were ever colleagues.”

He looked at me with a hard, warning stare.

I wanted to laugh. But before I could speak, someone shoved me hard. I stumbled back, crashing into one of the ballroom pillars. Pain instantly shot up my spine.

My purse hit the floor, spilling open.

Zamora’s best friend immediately lunged forward, dumped out the contents, and pointed at the green gemstone necklace inside.

“There! That’s it! She stole it!”

Ross’s face turned thunderous. With self-righteous fury, he barked, “The evidence is right here, and you’re still denying it? Fine then. I’ll take you to the cops myself!”

I couldn’t tell if he truly didn’t believe me or if he just wanted an excuse to drag me out. Either way, he seized my wrist and started pulling me toward the door.

I struggled to break free, but his grip only tightened.

Then, from across the hall, a furious voice roared.

“Let her go! Who dares lay a hand on my daughter?!”