The Senior Designer Shredded Her Wedding Dress Backstage — Until Her Father Walked In

An hour later, Camille sat inside a stark, windowless holding room at the police precinct near the Champs-Élysées.

Her sleek sequin suit was rumpled, her makeup smeared, and her polished hair falling in messy strands across her forehead. The golden shears she had wielded so arrogantly hours earlier were now sitting inside a plastic evidence container on the metal table in front of her.

The door opened, and Julian Vance walked in alongside his senior corporate litigation attorney, Mr. Dupont.

Camille looked up frantically, her eyes red from crying. "Mr. Vance! Thank God you're here! Tell these officers that this is a misunderstanding! I will sign a non-disclosure agreement! I will resign quietly! Just don't press criminal charges!"

Mr. Dupont placed a thick folder on the table, opening it to reveal photographs of the hidden safe and the offshore bank statements.

"Resignation is no longer an option, Miss Laurent," Mr. Dupont stated calmly. "The state prosecutor has formally indicted you on eight counts of corporate espionage, grand larceny, tax evasion, and destruction of high-value property."

Camille’s jaw dropped in total shock. "Destruction of property? It was just a piece of fabric!"

"That 'piece of fabric' was an insured archival couture prototype valued at three hundred thousand dollars," Julian said, his voice cold as ice. "And more importantly, it belonged to my daughter."

Camille fell back into her chair, clutching her forehead as tears of genuine panic began to stream down her face. "Please, Julian... I built your brand's reputation for two decades..."