I Married My Ex's Billionaire Father
Chapter 193: The True Culprit

Chapter 193: The True Culprit

Lyse stood amidst the chaos, a picture of calm amidst the storm. While accusations swirled around her like a tempest, she remained composed, her expression betraying none of the turmoil she felt inside. She had anticipated something like this.

Brooke’s ambition was a force of nature, and Lyse had known that Brooke would not hesitate to use any means necessary to secure her victory. The missing garment, the accusations, it was all predictable, a page torn straight from Brooke’s playbook.

When the stage manager, his face a mask of official concern, approached her, Lyse met his gaze with unwavering steadiness. "Mrs Van Doren," he said, his voice laced with a mixture of apology and accusation, he wanted to be as harsh as possible but he was aware of her status as the wife of a wealthy man so he had to thread carefully.

"we are going to have to ask you to come with us. The missing garment was found in your room, and...well, we might to involve the authorities."

Brooke, who had been hovering nearby, her face a carefully crafted mix of concern and disappointment, couldn’t quite suppress a triumphant gleam in her eyes. She had done it. She had finally gotten rid of her biggest competition.

"Of course," Lyse replied, her voice calm and even. "I understand."

As she was escorted towards a small, makeshift office that had been designated for the competition organizers, she could feel Brooke’s eyes boring into her back. She knew Brooke was reveling in her apparent misfortune, convinced that her plan had succeeded flawlessly.

Inside the office, two members of the organizing committee sat behind a table, their expressions serious. They reiterated the accusations, their words formal and official. Lyse listened patiently, her mind already several steps ahead.

"Mrs Van Doren," one of the organizers said, "we are going to have to turn you over to the police for questioning."

Brooke, who had somehow managed to insert herself into the room, nodded solemnly. "It’s for the best," she said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "Justice must be served."

Lyse turned to Brooke, her gaze unwavering. "Actually, Brooke," she said, her voice cutting through the air, "I have some evidence of my own."

Brooke’s carefully constructed composure faltered for a fraction of a second. A flicker of unease crossed her face, quickly masked by a look of disdain.

"Evidence?" she scoffed. "What evidence could you possibly have?"

"Evidence that I didn’t steal the garment," Lyse replied, her voice steady. "Evidence that will show who really did it."

Brooke’s heart began to pound. She had been so careful, so meticulous in her plan. How could Lyse possibly have any proof? A cold dread crept into her stomach.

Lyse reached into her bag and pulled out a small, unassuming device. It was a spy camera, no bigger than a lipstick tube. She had placed it in her assigned room earlier that day, a precaution she had taken because she had suspected that Brooke might try something.

"I anticipated that in a place with so many people, something like this might happen," Lyse explained, her voice calm and measured. "So, I took some...precautions."

Brooke’s face paled. Her carefully laid plans were unraveling before her eyes. How could she have been so foolish? She should have known that Lyse wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Lyse handed the device to one of the organizers. "This camera was recording all day," she said. "It will show you exactly what happened."

The organizers exchanged a look of surprise, then quickly connected the device to a nearby monitor. The video played, showing the backstage area, the contestants preparing for the show, the commotion surrounding the missing garment. And then, the moment of truth. The video clearly showed Cora, one of Brooke’s closest friends and most vocal supporters, sneaking into Lyse’s room with a garment bag, and placing it behind a rack of clothing.

A collective gasp filled the room. Brooke’s face was ashen, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. Cora, who had been standing beside Brooke, her face a picture of righteous indignation, now looked like she had seen a ghost.

The video ended, leaving no room for doubt. Cora was the culprit. She had stolen the garment and planted it in Lyse’s room. Lyse had suspected the culprit was going to be Kim but she was not too surprised at Cora being the one.

The organizers turned to Cora, their expressions stern. "Ms Davies," one of them said, "can you explain what we just saw?"

Cora, her face pale and trembling, sank to her knees, tears streaming down her face. "I...I’m so sorry," she sobbed. "I didn’t mean to...I just wanted to help Brooke win."

Brooke looked at Cora with a frown. "Why would you do something like this to my sister?" She demanded, her voice strict.

"Please," she begged the organizers. "Don’t involve the police. It was my garment that was stolen. I am willing to let it go. It was just a misunderstanding."

"What do you mean a misunderstanding?" Lyse’s voice rang out loudly. "This is not just a misunderstanding. This is a crime. And the police need to be involved."

Brooke’s eyes widened in panic. She knew that if the police were involved, Cora would spill her guts. her reputation would be ruined. Her career would be over.

"Please, Lyse," she pleaded, her voice desperate. "Don’t do this to her. She’s just a kid. She made a mistake."

Lyse looked at Cora, who was still kneeling on the floor, her body shaking with sobs. She felt a pang of sympathy for the young woman, who had clearly been manipulated by Brooke. But she could not let Brooke get away with this. She had to face the consequences of her actions.

Moreover, if the police got involved, Cora would probably point the accusing finger at Brooke.

"I am sorry, Brooke," Lyse said, her voice unwavering. "But this has gone too far. The police need to be involved."

She turned to the organizers. "I want to press charges," she said. "Against Cora."