Chloe’s smile faltered slightly.
Marcus pulled a remote control from his pocket and clicked it. The massive flat-screen television on the dining room wall roared to life. Instead of art, it displayed a high-definition security camera feed from the patio three days prior.
The audio echoed loudly through the silent dining room. Everyone watched in absolute, stunned horror as the footage showed Chloe screaming at an elderly woman, dumping dirty water on her, and violently kicking a vintage sewing machine. The high-society guests gasped. Someone dropped a fork.
“Marcus! Turn that off!” Chloe shrieked, her face flushing crimson as she leaped from her chair. “It’s taken out of context! She attacked me!”
“Sit down,” Marcus commanded, his voice shaking the room. Chloe froze, terrified by the pure authority in his tone.
Marcus clicked the remote again. A massive spreadsheet appeared on the screen, detailing the offshore accounts, the dates of the wire transfers, and the exact amounts of money she had stolen.
