“You took Zamora’s ring before, and now, you’re stealing again? How did you end up like this—so cheap, so shameless? What, your parents never taught you not to steal?”
I wasn’t even surprised.
“Ross, you could’ve just checked the security footage. At your company, you refused to see the truth, and now—this is a hotel full of cameras—and you still won’t check before judging me?”
“Sir,” one of his business partners said coldly, “just search her. That’ll settle it once and for all.”
“Empty your bag! Now!”
“Caught red-handed and still playing innocent?”
They closed in around me, circling like vultures.
“Issy,” Ross said flatly, “I’ll say it one last time. Hand over what you stole. Don’t make me forget we were ever colleagues.”
He looked at me with a hard, warning stare.
I wanted to laugh. But before I could speak, someone shoved me hard. I stumbled back, crashing into one of the ballroom pillars. Pain instantly shot up my spine.
My purse hit the floor, spilling open.
Zamora’s best friend immediately lunged forward, dumped out the contents, and pointed at the green gemstone necklace inside.
“There! That’s it! She stole it!”
