"Scarlett is disrespecting Tristan and has no sense of wifely virtue. She deserves whatever miserable end he gives her!"

I gripped my phone tighter as a silent sneer played on my lips.

What day and age were we in that people were still talking about wifely virtues?

I used to be so satisfied with Tristan Harrington and thought he was a true gentleman, free of fragile masculinity. Now, reading these comments, I realized that it was all an act. He'd married me with the goal of swallowing the Thorne family fortune whole.

I could barely hold back a cold laugh.

If he thought I was an easy target just because I was the only daughter left of the Thorne family, he shouldn't blame me for forgetting whatever ties our families once had when I devour the Harringtons.

…

When the live stream had hit a million viewers, I suggested, "The police will take a while to arrive. In the meantime, I'll introduce some of our company's products. It's the perfect marketing opportunity."

When the directors noticed the skyrocketing traffic and numbers, they nodded without hesitation. "That's some smart thinking, young lady. Go ahead and make it sound good so you can actually promote us!"

Holding my phone, I slowly walked deeper into the cold storage. Under the pretense of introducing our wine, I made my way toward the freezer where the two were hiding.

"These freezers are our latest in-house design with an incredibly powerful flash-freeze capability. It can drop the internal temperature by 68 degrees Fahrenheit in just three minutes. Let me give the viewers a quick demonstration."

As I spoke, I reached out and flipped the flash-freeze switch. The freezer began to hum loudly to life.

The comment section exploded.

"Oh my god, 68 degrees Fahrenheit? Is she trying to freeze Tristan and Daisy to death?"

"Daisy's face is already pale, and there's frost on her eyelashes. Good thing Tristan is holding her tight, and they're even kissing. That's so sweet!"

"Relax. The temperature of the freezer can be controlled remotely. Tristan has his phone, so he adjusted the settings back."

Just then, David stepped up to stop me. "I think I saw the freezer move. What if the thief is hiding in there?

"Maybe we should just lock the main door of the cold storage. We don't know where they are right now, and there's a chance they're armed with a knife or weapon."

I smiled and reached out. "Well, if they're hiding in there, we'll just have to open it to find out, right?"

The moment the words left my lips, the viewers panicked.

"She's not actually going to open it, is she? This is a live stream with a million viewers!"

"Daisy and Tristan both heard her, and Daisy is crying in fright. Poor thing."

"They're both not wearing anything, so they're going to be so embarrassed if the door opens. Oh god… Did Scarlett sense something?"

Amidst the frantic comments, I pretended that the freezer door wouldn't budge and frowned. "Looks like this freezer's broken and won't open. I'll have a word with Quality Control later about their inspection standards."

Viewers in the comments section heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thank goodness she couldn't get it open."

"Temperature in the freezer is back to normal now, so Tristan and Daisy can probably hold on a lot longer. They just need to wait until these lunatics leave."

I glanced at the comments and let out a cold laugh.

"Leave?" I thought. Did they forget that I called the police?

"Why aren't the police here yet? Their response time is way too slow," I said, pretending to complain and look toward the door.

John waved his hand and announced, "The head of security just told me that they've arrived at the door of the building. They're on their way up now."

The comment section exploded.

"I forgot this vicious woman called the cops! What do we do now? Tristan and Daisy are going to be exposed!"

"Tristan is so smart. He's using his phone to call for backup."

Seeing that last comment, I narrowed my eyes and turned around just in time to see David sneaking toward the exit. I didn't have to guess to know that he was going to bribe the police and bury the whole incident.

So, I immediately raised my voice and declared, "Everyone, the thief is still at large. It's very possible that a spy in our company is keeping in touch with them and helping them escape through the back door!

"To ensure everyone's safety and to prove your innocence, let's all keep an eye on each other until the police arrive. No one is allowed to leave this room.

"Otherwise, whoever leaves is the spy."

The crowd, who'd just been watching the scene for fun, immediately grew tense.

Someone suddenly shouted, "Where are you going, David? You're not trying to tip someone off, are you?"

David broke out in a cold sweat as someone grabbed his arm and held him in place.

"Stop talking nonsense! I'm just in a hurry to soothe the clients. Which of you is going to take responsibility if we offend them?"

But the crowd hemmed him in. "We have clients, too! Either we all offend them together, or nobody leaves. You're not going anywhere!"

David turned beet-red with rage, but couldn't blow his over in front of everyone. All he could do was watch in despair as the police entered the cold storage.

"Ms. Thorne, are you the one who called? What's the extent of the losses?" the police officer asked as he approached.

I solemnly replied, "The broken bottles of wine alone are worth ten million dollars, and we still don't know how many bottles were stolen. Officers, please make sure you move fast and catch the thief as soon as possible!"

The officer's expression turned grim at the mention of such a staggering figure. "Don't worry. We'll do everything we can to find them in the shortest time possible.

"Everyone, please step back. We need to process the scene."

A dozen officers sealed off the cold storage and meticulously searched for clues, while I subtly tapped on my phone to reactivate the flash-freeze mode and revoke Tristan's access permissions.

Once that was done, I smiled at the freezer. I was curious to see what he'd do next.

"Holy crap! Scarlett turned the freeze back on! Daisy and Tristan are going to freeze to death from hypothermia!

"She definitely knows they're in there, but she's always been about keeping up appearances. Why would she embarrass him in front of everyone?"

Looking at the comments, I let out a cold laugh.

Tristan was trying to ruin me and strip the Thorne family of everyone. I'd be the idiot if I showed him any mercy now.

After a sweep of the room, the officer frowned. "Based on the initial assessment, the thieves haven't left, and they're hiding in here.

"Judging by the footprints, there are two of them—a man and a woman!"

When the directors heard, they exchanged looks, while the million viewers in the live stream went wild.

"A man and a woman? This doesn't sound like thieves… more like a cheating couple."

"I smell drama. Come on, officers! Drag them out!"

"Since the thieves are hiding in the freezers, please search each of them, officers," I said.

The police officer nodded and began searching through each of the freezers in the cold storage. Meanwhile, the viewership count of the live stream skyrocketed and hit the five-million mark within minutes.

The comments went wild.

"Daisy is unconscious now! She'll die if they don't come out anytime soon!"

"Tristan and Daisy are going to be so humiliated!"

As the search radius narrowed, the comment section turned into a chaotic mess. I kept my eyes on the screen with interest and wondered what Tristan's next move would be.

Suddenly, the comments shifted to shock.

"Damn, Tristan is really something! He figured something out!"

"I can't wait for the comeback! The vicious Scarlett is done for!"

I was slightly confused by the flood of comments.

A comeback? I couldn't think of anything he could do to turn the tables around.

Before I could dwell on it, my phone screen suddenly went black.

When the live stream was abruptly cut off, I immediately realized that Tristan had someone hack the network.

The next second, the freezer door was violently forced open before Tristan's weak voice came from the inside.

"Help…"