My calmness caught everyone completely off guard.

"Settle accounts? How are you even going to do that? Can you pay? Don't think you can bluff your way out! If you don't have the money today, we'll call the police and report you for fraud!" one of her friends shouted.

"Exactly! A man living off a woman sure has the nerve to argue here!" another added.

The crowd's laughter and jeers kept rising, but I ignored them. I pulled out my phone and made a call. "Mr. Reid, you can come in now."

Moments later, the banquet hall doors swung open. A poised, sharp-looking middle-aged man walked in. Owen Reid, my layer, walked straight to my side and placed a document on the table, sliding it toward Stella.

"Ms. Smith, regarding the financial dispute between you and my client, we've prepared a detailed account. Please review it," he said.

Stella froze, staring at the papers, hesitant to even touch them.

"First, the car. Its value was 230 thousand dollars," Owen said as his assistant projected a bank transfer record onto the big screen.

"The payment for the car was indeed made from Ms. Smith's account. However, the day before the purchase, Mr. York transferred 250 thousand dollars from his personal account into your account. Ms. Smith, how do you explain this?" he added.

Her face turned pale instantly. "That… That was… He gave it to me willingly!" she stammered.

"Whether it was a gift or not, the court will decide," Owen said evenly. "Next, regarding the alleged club expenses. We obtained surveillance footage from Solara Club through the bank."

Another video appeared on the screen. A man resembling me was using the payroll card I had never touched, swiping it multiple times.

"We verified this card was the one you gave him," Owen continued, eyes fixed on Stella. "We were told that someone claimed it was an extra card with unlimited funds. All he needed to do was sign 'Charles' on the receipts.

"Ms. Smith, forging signatures, using someone else's bank card without permission, and presenting it as evidence to defame my client… Do you need me to tell you what crime that is?"

Stella shuddered, staggered back, and was caught by her friends. The hall fell silent. Everyone was stunned by the shocking turn of events.

"No… This can't be… I didn't…" she whispered, her lips trembling, panic creeping into her eyes.

"Finally, let's talk about the so-called living expenses you claim were spent on Mr. York," Owen said, picking up the payroll card from the table.

"From the moment this card was entrusted to my client, he hasn't spent a single cent. In fact, over the past year, he deposited a total of 374 thousand dollars into this card." His tone sharpened.

A detailed record appeared on the screen, showing every deposit, with dates and amounts.

"And where did all this money go? We investigated that too," Owen said.

The screen lit up with a flurry of receipts and statements, showing a Carmine classic handbag for 38 thousand dollars, repayment of her father's gambling debt for 120 thousand dollars, coverage of her brother's failed business for 150 thousand dollars, and so on.

It turns out her glamorous lifestyle was entirely supported by me, her so-called kept man.

"Ms. Smith, your claim for 800 thousand dollars in compensation is completely baseless. Right now, you owe my client 374 thousand dollars, plus the car," Owen said, his voice icy.

"No… That's impossible…" Stella panicked, her eyes darting desperately to a man in the crowd for help.

I followed Stella's gaze and saw her direct superior, the company's vice president, Lucas Moore. He was standing there, face pale, eyes wide with shock.

"Mr. Moore, you have to help me!" Stella stumbled toward him, clinging to him like a last lifeline. Lucas instinctively tried to step back, but she grabbed his arm tightly.

"Mr. Moore, this was all your idea! You told me to get rid of Charles, this useless man, and take money from him. You promised…" she said.

"Enough! Stella, have you lost your mind? You mismanaged your own private life, slandered your ex-boyfriend, and now you're trying to drag me into this?" Lucas yanked his arm free, panic flashing across his face before he forced a harsh tone.

He turned to Owen and me, forcing a smile. "Mr. York, Mr. Reid, this is purely a personal issue with Stella. It has nothing to do with our company."

No one in the room was fooled. Seeing this, everyone understood immediately.

"So, it was a setup between the two of them! How cruel," someone in the crowd said.

"And that Mr. Moore isn't innocent either. He probably wanted Stella all along and told her to do this," another added.

The whispers started again, but this time all the blame was squarely on Stella and Lucas. Watching them flounder, I felt a surge of satisfaction.

"Mr. Reid, please continue," I said calmly.

"Of course, Mr. York," he replied, nodding before turning his attention back to Stella. "Ms. Smith, what we just calculated was only the direct financial losses you owe Mr. York. Now, we'll move on to compensation for emotional distress and reputational damage."

Owen's voice was steady, devoid of emotion, yet Stella and Lucas both shivered. "You publicly defamed my client's character. According to the law, you and your accomplice are jointly liable for emotional and reputational damages, totaling…"

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in, then said slowly, "Two million dollars."

"Two million dollars! This is robbery! He's just a poor kid. How could his reputation be worth two million dollars?" Stella screamed, as if she'd heard something impossible.

"Yeah, a regular employee who's only worked a year can't claim that. Mr. Reid, this is extortion!" Lucas added, trying to keep his composure.

"Is it?" Owen smiled faintly, knowingly.

At that moment, the banquet hall doors swung open again. This time, an elderly man with white hair but a commanding presence walked in.

Lucas's eyes went wide, and his lips trembled. "Chairman… You… What are you doing here?"

Most of the guests were confused, but every businessperson present, including Stella's parents, froze instantly.

The man was none other than Benjamin York, founder of Shine Corporation and one of the city's most powerful businessmen. Lucas's company was just one of the countless subsidiaries under Shine Corporation, barely worth noticing.

Benjamin ignored the crouching Lucas entirely and strode straight through the crowd toward me. Under the stunned gazes of everyone present, he patted my shoulder with genuine concern. "My dear son, you've been wronged."