She Cut the Maid’s Hair to Humiliate Her — Then the Guest at the Gate Recognized Exactly What Kind of Woman She Was

"Dragan, what is the meaning of this?!" Clarissa shrieked, instantly realizing she had lost control. "Security! Remove him!"

The estate guards didn't move an inch. They all looked to Oswald, who simply shook his head.

Dragan pulled a remote control from his suit jacket. He pointed it at the massive projector screen behind the stage, which had been displaying engagement photos. The screen flickered, and suddenly, the audio recording from Oswald’s backup drive blasted through the ballroom speakers.

Clarissa’s cruel, arrogant voice filled the entire room.

"The damaged shipment was worth more to me broken than sold. Insurance pays out triple for ruined prototypes. And the stupid little kitchen girl makes the absolute perfect scapegoat..."

The wealthy guests gasped in sheer, unadulterated horror. The news cameras immediately began recording.

Theodore physically staggered backward, dropping his champagne glass. It shattered against the stage floor. He stared at his fiancée, all the color violently draining from his face.

"Theodore, it’s a deepfake!" Clarissa wailed hysterically, her platinum gown shaking. "They edited it! The butler hates me!"

"I don't hate you, Ms. Merrill," Oswald spoke up, his voice ringing with titanium dignity. "I simply despise thieves."

Dragan stepped closer to the stage.

"That was for the insurance fraud," Dragan stated coldly. He then turned and pointed directly at Nadia, who was standing quietly near the wall. "Now, Nadia. Take off the scarf."