Julian: Turn that off... turn that phone off right now, Clara!
Clara: It's too late, Julian. Over four million people are watching this broadcast right now. Every word you said, every confession you made, went straight to the internet.
Julian: You can't do this! This is a private charity gala! You're violating state wiretapping laws!
Clara: Wiretapping? You brought me into this room by force, Julian. You had your security guards tear up my purse and throw me on the marble floor because I refused to sign over my father's trust fund.
Julian took a frantic step forward, reaching out to grab her phone, but Clara stepped back, keeping her distance while holding the screen high so the surrounding guests could see the live viewer count skyrocketing.
Julian: Give me that phone, you crazy woman!
Guest 1: Stay back from her, Julian! Don't you touch her again!
Guest 2: Look at her face! Did you do that to her, Julian? Did you beat your own ex-wife in the back holding room?
Julian: No! She's lying! She came in here looking like that to frame me!
Clara: Really? Let's play back the last ten minutes of the stream, shall we?
Clara tapped a single button on her screen, and her phone's powerful speaker blasted Julian's voice across the high-ceilinged room for every billionaire, politician, and news reporter to hear.
Phone Audio (Julian's Voice): "You think anyone is going to help you, Clara? My mother controls the police department, and I control the board of directors. If you don't sign this waiver surrendering the Mitchell Logistics shares, you won't leave this room alive."
The entire crowd erupted into shouts of outrage. Executives who had been shaking Julian's hand minutes earlier backed away from him as if he were poisonous.
Guest 3: You monster! You threatened to kill her for her inheritance?!
Guest 4: I'm pulling my investment firm's capital out of Sterling Financial tonight! This is barbaric!
Julian: Wait! Everyone, listen to me! That audio was generated by artificial intelligence! It's a deepfake!
Clara: Deepfake? Then how do you explain the blood on your black tuxedo cuff, Julian? Check your left sleeve.
Julian froze, his eyes darting down to his left cufflink. A streak of fresh crimson blood smeared across the pristine white fabric where he had grabbed Clara's face twenty minutes ago in the back hallway.
Julian: I... I scraped my hand on the ice sculpture downstairs!
Clara: The police officers outside already have the DNA sample matches, Julian. They've been waiting for my signal to override the private security system.
Julian: Security! Where is my security team?! Unlock these doors immediately!
Clara: Your security team isn't answering their radios, Julian. They were placed in handcuffs by the state troopers three minutes ago in the main lobby.
Julian stumbled backward, his knees knocking against the edge of a banquet table as he realized he was completely trapped inside the room he thought he controlled.
Julian: Clara... please. We were married for three years. We can work this out like rational people. I'll give you twenty million dollars right now if you cut that live feed!
Clara: My father's life was worth more than twenty million dollars, Julian. And today, you're going to pay for what you and your mother did to him.