However…
“No,” Katelyn replied firmly, her voice calm and unwavering as she continued typing without sparing him a glance.
Relief surged through Ryanna, dissipating the tension in her chest. The idea of Katelyn overshadowing her in yet another way had been an unwelcome prospect.
Instinctively, her gaze shifted toward Vincent, bitterness in her eyes. From start to finish, Vincent hadn’t looked away from Katelyn. His unwavering focus spoke volumes, revealing feelings that words could never mask. Yet, she was his fiancée.
Hilary let out a breath, visibly reassured by Katelyn’s denial. If she had been TS, the situation would have taken a much more serious turn. A talent of that magnitude, like TS, would attract the attention of the most powerful factions, even the king himself.
If Katelyn truly held the identity of TS, the potential implications of her relationship with Vincent would send ripples of concern through every influential faction. At that point, the king might intervene, prioritizing the pursuit of unparalleled talent over preserving Vincent’s engagement with Ryanna.
From the sidelines, murmurs arose.
“The footage is gone. Can she even retrieve it?”
One skeptic shook their head, voicing doubt.
“It’s hard to say. Honestly, it seems like this will end with Katelyn paying up.”
“But you never know,” someone chimed in.
“Stranger things have happened.” The crowd buzzed with differing opinions, each speculation adding to the tension.
Amid Fiona’s growing satisfaction, Katelyn’s hands abruptly stilled. Her piercing eyes locked onto Fiona.
“Recovered,” she stated with a calm finality.
That single word struck Fiona like a slap, leaving her momentarily speechless. She quickly retorted, “No way! That’s impossible!” Yet, before her protest could settle, the screen flickered, and the footage resumed its playback.
This was unmistakably the footage that had just been erased. Within minutes, Katelyn had already restored it, a testament to her extraordinary computer skills.
Fiona’s complexion drained of color, leaving her as pale as a ghost. Her fists clenched so tightly at her sides that her nails nearly pierced her skin.
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The video began with an empty room. Then came a faint click, yet it gripped everyone’s attention instantly. In the corner of the screen, a seemingly seamless wall shifted slightly, pushed open to reveal a hidden door.
Gasps echoed across the room as all eyes darted between the video and the same corner of the jewelry room, where the hidden door was supposed to be.
Fiona’s gaze shifted to a girl standing quietly in the corner. The girl’s plain dress made her seem utterly unremarkable.
With a subtle signal from Fiona, the girl moved nonchalantly toward Katelyn, a glass of wine poised in her hand. In a swift motion, the wine spilled directly onto the laptop. The moment the liquid made contact, the system fizzled and died. The screen went dark, refusing to restart.
“Oh no… I’m so sorry! My hand slipped!” she exclaimed, her face a picture of panic.
Ashlyn shoved her aside and yelled, “Are you insane? Don’t you realize this is critical evidence? Or are you trying to make us pay damages on purpose?!”
The room fell silent, breaths held in disbelief. Everyone recognized the act for what it was—deliberate sabotage. But why would she do this?
Vincent stepped forward, gun in hand, aiming it at her with chilling precision.
“Talk. Who sent you? Or you won’t leave this room alive.”
The girl quivered like a leaf in the wind. Terror was etched across her face, yet she bit her lip and shook her head.
“No one! I swear… it was an accident! I’m so sorry!” She dropped to her knees, bowing repeatedly in apology.
Ashlyn felt her anger boiling over.
.
.
.