"Mr. Kingsley! Mr. Kingsley, don't let this woman fool you!"

The industry gala was held at the city's top hotel.

Crystal chandeliers threw shards of light across the ballroom.

I walked in on Caleb's arm in a black evening gown.

Every head in the room turned.

Curious. Skeptical. Judgmental.

There was a commotion near the center of the room.

Felix, dressed in a caterer's uniform, was shoving past the security line.

He had a thick stack of documents raised over his head.

He didn't care who was watching.

The room went up in murmurs.

Security tried to contain him. He wrapped himself around a pillar.

"Let go of me! I'm here to expose the truth!"

He was screaming himself hoarse.

"Iris Fairfax is a thief! She stole the idea for her company from me!"

Every pair of eyes in that room was on us.

Caleb's brow drew together. He was about to speak.

I laid a hand on his arm.

"Let him."

I stepped forward and looked down at Felix.

"If you can't actually back this up tonight, I'm going to make you eat every page of that."

Felix twisted free of security and straightened his crooked collar.

He clearly thought he looked heroic right then.

"I want all of you to see this!"

He held the documents high.

"This is the business plan I wrote two years ago!"

"The core algorithm and business model are identical to what Iris Fairfax is running right now!"

He turned to Caleb, eyes earnest.

"Mr. Kingsley. You're a legend in this industry. You can tell who the real talent is."

"Iris doesn't know anything. She doesn't even know how to code!"

"She slept her way to the top!"

Several people in the crowd sucked in a breath.

That was a heavy accusation.

If it stuck, I wasn't just finished in the industry — I was looking at jail time.

A handful of the investors I'd been courting were already quietly stepping back.

The captions were going wild.

[I'm going to lose it — how is this guy so shameless?!]

[Throw it back at him already!]

[The energy in that room, holy god, everyone's treating her like a car wreck.]

I looked at Felix's flushed face, twisted with excitement.

"You're saying you wrote this two years ago?"

My tone was completely flat.

"Absolutely!"

Felix drew himself up.

"Every single word. Wrote it overnight."

I nodded.

"Okay."

I turned and faced the room.

"Since Mr. Davenport insists this is his life's work — let's put it to the test right here."

I snapped my fingers.

My assistant wheeled in a mobile whiteboard.

"Felix. Since you understand the core algorithm."

I picked up a marker and started writing the underlying logic on the board, fast.

"Please explain how you handled the redundant nodes in this data loop."

The room went dead silent.

Every pair of eyes fixed on Felix.

The smugness flash-froze on his face.

Small beads of sweat broke out along his hairline.

"Uh — I—"

He stammered for half a minute and couldn't produce a coherent sentence.

Of course he couldn't. He'd dropped out of intro to programming at a community extension course in Brisbane.

"What's the matter? Can't remember something you wrote two years ago?"

I didn't let up.

"Fine. Simpler question."

I pointed at the business plan in his hand.

"The distributed cloud storage you mention here. What's your load-balancing strategy when concurrent requests exceed one hundred thousand?"

Felix's legs started to shake.

He looked around the room, pleading — and all he got back was amusement.

"I — that's a trade secret! Why should I tell you?!"

He was still flailing on the last sinking plank.

"If you hadn't stolen my ideas, I would have been the richest man in the country by now!"

He was nearly hysterical.

"You ruined my life!"

And right as he was about to crack wide open —

I stepped close enough to speak only for him and said, softly:

"You made money at that meatpacking plant and gave it all to Naomi — do you really not know who Naomi's been buying sneakers for?"