Chapter 2: The Digital Guillotine
Cynthia scoffed, crossing her arms. "What ridiculous game are you playing, girl? Security, remove her—"
"I said," Vivienne interrupted, her eyes locking onto Cynthia's with a predatory focus, "look at the screen."
Vivienne casually reached into her satin clutch and pulled out her smartphone. With a single, unbothered tap of her thumb, the massive, glowing projector screen behind the stage—originally intended to display the charity’s fundraising totals—flickered violently. The bright numbers disappeared, replaced by a stark, high-definition black-and-white security video feed.
The time stamp on the upper right corner of the video read: 8:42 PM.
The footage showed the interior of the secure green room. A woman entered the frame, looking around stealthily. It wasn't Vivienne. The camera caught the unmistakable silhouette, the heavy diamond rings, and the distinct, emerald-green silk gown of Cynthia Harrington herself. The crowd gasped collectively as they watched the video version of the matriarch walk directly over to a velvet jewelry case, open it, and stuff a priceless, historic heirloom pearl necklace directly into the hidden lining of her own couture clutch.
Cynthia's arrogant confidence vanished instantly, replaced by a sudden, suffocating dread. Her breath caught violently in her throat as her face drained of all color, turning a sickly, translucent gray.
"Turn it off! Turn it off right now!" Cynthia shrieked, lunging toward the tech booth at the back of the room. But the production staff stood completely frozen, staring at the screen in absolute horror.
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"You can't turn it off, Cynthia," Vivienne said smoothly, taking a elegant sip of her champagne. "I didn't just hack the projector. I bypass-routed the entire hotel’s closed-circuit network directly to my cloud server three hours ago. I’ve controlled the security cameras all night. Did you really think a woman who manages data architecture for the federal government wouldn't notice you manipulating the security guards' rotation schedule?"
The realization hit Cynthia like a physical blow. The very trap she had spent days setting for Vivienne had been completely inverted. The wealthy mother-in-law had walked straight into a digital execution, and she was the one with her neck on the block.
