The room was thick with silence as the staff stood frozen, sharing anxious glances. No one uttered a word or made a move to step forward. Their guilty faces and averted eyes said it all. Thomas' voice broke the tension, colder and sharper than ever. "No one's going to confess, huh?" With no one stepping forward, Michael let out an inward sigh. Someone's definitely in trouble now. "Michael, get the footage," Thomas ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. Michael paused momentarily before remembering—Thomas' private dressing room had a hidden camera. Years ago, some female celebrities intentionally staged suggestive meetings with Thomas to generate scandals and gain publicity. These events were complex to clear up, and rumors spread rapidly, especially when involving a guy and a girl. Most assumed a girl wouldn't jeopardize her own reputation by peddling false stories, leading many to conclude that Thomas must have been the one at fault. To avoid such pitfalls, Thomas had packed a unique kit for the hidden camera. It had been so long that even Michael had almost forgotten it existed. Without a word, Michael headed to the lounge. When he returned, he carried a small bag that drew curious glances from the staff. Trying to keep it low-key, Michael reiterated, "Final chance! If you own up now, we'll let it go. But if I have to reveal what's on here, there's no turning back. Don't expect any mercy." Seraphina's gaze shifted across the crowd, finally settling on a short, dark-skinned young man. She said nothing, but her lingering glance hinted at suspicion. Still, no one moved. No one spoke. Michael sighed, realizing they wouldn't get a confession. He asked for a laptop, connected a card reader, and began accessing the CCTV footage. Adjusting the playback to about fifteen minutes earlier, he pressed play. The footage captured the assistant walking into the room, setting the sandalwood box on a table, and leaving just moments later. Moments later, a figure wearing a mask and a duckbill cap slipped inside, staying for under a minute before hurrying out. The assistant then returned, utterly unaware of what had happened. Though the mask and cap hid the culprit's face, everyone in the room identified the figure. Stunned, the assistant gasped at a pretty girl, "Aleena? It's you?" All eyes turned to Aleena, whose face paled. She stepped back, shaking her head. "No! That's not me! I didn't do anything!" "The video is clear, Aleena. There's no use denying it. Where's the mask?" The assistant's voice was firm, her disappointment unmistakable. She was furious—first at nearly accusing an innocent person, but even more at the betrayal by someone she considered a friend who had taken advantage of her trust to do something so deceitful. Thomas shot a sharp glance at Aleena before giving his order. "Call the police, and make sure to pull the hallway footage as well." When the police were mentioned, Aleena's panic was palpable. She pleaded desperately, "Wait! Don't call the police! I'll show you where it is!" She knew the consequences—stealing something valued at billions could easily imprison her for several years. Next, Aleena entered a room and moved to the corner where she had stashed a plain bag. When she took it out and opened it with shaking hands, her face twisted in disbelief at what she found inside. "It's... It's gone!" she stammered, panic in her voice. The staff exchanged uneasy glances. The room was accessible to everyone, and without cameras, it would've been almost impossible to identify who took the mask after Aleena. Aleena's voice cracked as tears streamed down her face. "I swear, I put it here! It was right here! You have to believe me!" Panic seeped into her tone as she incessantly reiterated her words, eager to convince them she was telling the truth.