Ashen Threads & Diamond Tears

The room erupted into absolute chaos.

Reporters shoved past security guards, flashbulbs exploding in a blinding storm of white light as Lord Harrison raised his hand, signaling his legal team to step forward.

A heavy leather folder was dropped onto the table in front of Mr. Sterling and the board of directors.

"Inside that folder," Lord Harrison announced calmly, "are the forensic banking records showing that Chloe Vance siphoned fifty million dollars from Vance Luxury into offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands—money used to pay off arsonists, crooked inspectors, and black-market suppliers."

Mr. Sterling opened the folder, his eyes widening as he scanned the signed bank transfers and wire logs. He looked up at Chloe, his face twisted in disgust.

"Security," Mr. Sterling roared. "Remove Miss Vance from the building immediately!"

"No! Wait!" Chloe screamed, backing away as two heavy museum security officers grabbed her by the arms. She kicked and thrined, her emerald dress ripping along the side seam, revealing the cheap, low-grade synthetic lining underneath. "It’s a lie! Lyra set me up! She’s using dark technology! Look at her dress!"

I walked slowly down the marble stairs, stopping a few feet away from her as she struggled against the security guards.

"My dress isn't dark technology, Chloe," I said, my voice echoing clearly for every camera in the room to record. "It’s made of blood, sweat, and genuine tears. Things you've never shed a single drop of in your entire hollow life."