The Billionaire's Lost Daughter They Humiliated the Wrong Woman

Marie's voice rang with absolute certainty as the words left her mouth.

I stared back at her, my expression cold and flat.

“Marie, I already told you. I'm here for the gala.”

“And I don't even know your husband. Why would I steal anything from him?”

My voice was steady, measured.

But before the last syllable faded, Marie cut me off without hesitation：“Someone hold her down. Right here, right now. I want her stripped bare so we can all see exactly where she's hiding my things.”

The moment the order left her lips, her people moved toward me.

I looked at Marie, and something flickered in my eyes that I couldn't quite suppress.

The banquet hall was full. Guests milled about in every direction, champagne in hand, conversations half-paused.

She wanted to humiliate me right here, in front of all of them.

“Marie, I was invited. Even if I had stolen something, it's not your place to handle it like this. Call the police if you want.”

The words came out fast, sharper than I intended.

I turned, scanning the crowd behind me. My business partner, the one who'd invited me, still hadn't arrived.

“Marie, I was invited by Kerry Rowe.”

“Bring him out here and everything will be clear.”

A cold laugh slithered out of Marie's throat：“Who did you just say you want to see?”

“What, you couldn't seduce my husband so now you're going after Kerry Rowe?”

“He's the eldest son of the Rowe family. The most powerful name in the Capital City elite circle. Even my father speaks to him with respect.”

“And you, a nobody, think you can get your claws into a man like that?”

Contempt dripped from every word, and she swept her gaze over me like I was something stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

Then she continued：“Besides, Kerry just called. He's stuck in traffic and won't be here for another half hour.”

“You probably overheard my father's phone call with him and decided to use his name. Am I wrong?”

Before I could respond, Marie closed the distance between us and slapped me across the face.

The blow landed hard enough to send me to the floor. My palms hit the marble, and pain split through my cheek like a crack through glass.

I swallowed the sting, forced my head up to look at her, and heard my own voice come out raw, urgent：“Marie, I told you, I did not go after your husband.”

“And I'm not a thief. I didn't take his necklace.”

“If you don't believe me, call Kerry Rowe yourselves!”

I turned to the crowd, searching every face in the room.

I knew exactly what was happening. Marie and Robert had seen me and decided to pin this on me, fabricate the whole thing on the spot.

All I needed was for one person to make that call. Just one person to reach Kerry, and he could confirm who I was.

Once Kerry arrived, my identity would speak for itself.

But as my voice died away, not a single hand reached for a phone.

They just watched me. Every last one of them.

Their eyes gleamed with the quiet, passive thrill of spectators at someone else's ruin.

And in that silence, I understood. They weren't indifferent. They were afraid. Afraid of Marie, of the Gilbert name, of what crossing her would cost them.

I turned in a slow circle, scanning the room one more time, and realized Felix wasn't there either.

“Look at this little tramp!”

“Still hoping someone's going to swoop in and save her!”

“Just look at that face. Cheap and desperate. You can practically smell it.”

Marie watched me scan the crowd and threw her head back with a laugh：“Don't let this little temptress fool you. Women like her only know one trick, and it's always the same pathetic game.”

Laughter rippled through the hall. A few guests pointed openly, whispering behind cupped hands.

Several men pulled out their phones and angled them toward me, ready to record.

“Marie, if you really suspect me, call the police and let them handle it.”