Gabriel stared at me, unnerved, but quickly regained his composure. "Are you in shock or something?"

He reached out to touch my forehead, but I slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch me."

I walked into the bedroom and locked the door behind me. Gabriel pounded on it, shouting curses, but I ignored him.

That night, I slept in my regular clothes with a pair of scissors tucked under my pillow.

Early the next morning, Gabriel left the apartment. I knew he was going to placate Jasmine and tie up loose ends.

Once I was certain he was gone, I quickly contacted my trusted assistant, Marcus Jones.

"I need you to buy a wireless receiver for hidden cameras. Get the best one available."

Marcus had worked for me for five years and never asked unnecessary questions. He simply replied, "Yes, Ms. Summers."

Half an hour later, we met in a mall restroom. I took the receiver and locked myself in a stall, my fingers flying over the controls.

During the renovation in my past life, I'd been paranoid about workers stealing expensive imported materials. So I'd installed a pinhole camera in the most hidden spot in the villa, inside the central air vent in the living room.

The camera connected to an overseas cloud server and had an independent power supply that could operate for 48 hours even without electricity or internet.

This was a blind spot Gabriel knew nothing about, and it was my only chance to turn things around.

The explosion had damaged nearby cell towers, so the network signal was terrible. I connected the receiver to the cloud server and watched the progress bar crawl forward at an agonizing pace. Every second felt like torture.

Finally, the video loaded. My hands trembled as I clicked on the playback, rewinding to a few hours before the explosion.

In the footage, half an hour after I left the villa, the balcony window opened. Someone climbed in wearing my designer suit, a wig styled exactly like my hair, and sunglasses.

But I recognized that sway in her walk anywhere. It was Jasmine.

She carried the pipe cutter that would later be found in my briefcase and strutted boldly into the kitchen. Then she turned on the cutter and began savagely cutting through the pipes while screaming into the empty room.

"Evelyn, go to hell! I'll blow you sky high, and then you won't be able to compete with me for his attention anymore!

"Why do you get to live in a house this nice? Why does Gabriel have to answer to you? Once you're rotting in prison, this house will be mine! The money will be mine!"

The sound of gas hissing from the severed pipe was clearly audible. Jasmine seemed startled by the force of it and stumbled backward. Then she pulled a cigarette from her pocket, lit it, and took a drag.

She flicked the still-burning cigarette near the leaking pipe. "Go to hell!"

Then, she turned and fled. That was where the video ended.

I stared at the frozen frame, my whole body shaking. That vicious woman had truly intended to level the entire building.

I saved the video and made three backup copies, uploading them to different cloud accounts. With this evidence, Gabriel and Jasmine had nowhere to run.

Even with the proof in hand, I didn't go to the police immediately. Gabriel had connections at the station. If I turned it in now, there was no guarantee he couldn't bury it.

I needed to expose them in front of everyone, where they couldn't wriggle free. Just then, my phone buzzed with a news alert.

"Explosion Suspect's Fiance Holds Press Conference to Apologize on Her Behalf."

I tapped the livestream link.

Gabriel sat at a table on a small stage, wearing a black suit with a white boutonniere pinned to his lapel, his face a mask of grief. Patricia sat beside him, along with Jasmine, playing the role of a concerned neighbor. The audience was packed with reporters and relatives of the deceased family.

A banner stretched across the back wall.

"Justice for the victims. Make her pay."

Gabriel spoke into the microphone, his voice breaking. "This tragedy happened on my watch. As her fiance, I share the blame.

"Evelyn acted recklessly and modified the gas lines without permission, and I failed to stop her. I'm guilty too. To show my remorse, I've decided to liquidate all our assets to compensate the victims' family."

Applause erupted from the crowd. Someone shouted, "Now that's a stand-up guy!"

Then Jasmine took the microphone. Her eyes were red and swollen, the picture of tragic sympathy.

"I'm Evelyn's neighbor and her friend. The truth is, Evelyn told me she planned to commit insurance fraud."

The room exploded in gasps and murmurs.

Jasmine dabbed at her tears and continued weaving her lies. "She said her company was running out of money and she wanted to blow up the house for the insurance payout. I tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't listen. I never imagined she'd actually get anyone killed."

Camera flashes went wild.

"Insurance fraud! She's a monster!"

"That woman is pure evil!"

I watched their performance on my phone, then turned it off and straightened my collar. If they'd built the stage, I might as well give them a final act.

Half an hour later, I arrived at the press conference venue. I wore a black suit and no makeup, my face pale but my spine straight.

Security tried to block me, but I shoved past them. "Move!"

I strode into the hall. The moment the doors swung open, every eye in the room turned toward me. The noisy venue fell silent instantly.

Gabriel's face changed when he saw me. He jumped to his feet and shouted, "Evie! What are you doing here? You should be at home reflecting on what you've done, not making a scene!"

He rushed toward me, trying to cover my mouth while yelling to the reporters, "My fiancee has had a mental breakdown from guilt! Don't listen to anything she says!"

Two security guards closed in, trying to drag me away. I looked at Gabriel charging toward me and slapped him hard across the face.

The sound echoed through the venue, amplified by his lapel mic. Gabriel froze, stunned.

I shoved him aside, grabbed the microphone from his hand, and walked onto the stage.

Jasmine shrank back in fear, while Patricia pointed at me and shrieked, "What the hell do you think you're doing, you crazy bitch?"

I stood at center stage, facing the cameras and the furious family members. "Since you're all so convinced I did this, let's see who really broke into my house."

I turned and connected my phone to the massive LED screen behind me. The color drained from Jasmine's face the moment she saw what I was doing. She seemed to realize what was coming and screamed as she lunged at me.

"Don't play that! That's private! Turn it off!"

She clawed at the power cables, her movements frantic and wild.

I kicked her hard in the stomach. "Get off this stage!"

Jasmine shrieked and tumbled down, landing in a heap in front of the reporters. The next second, the screen lit up. The high-definition video began to play.

In the video, Jasmine was in a wig, wearing my clothes. She pranced around the villa like a deranged performer. She posed in front of a mirror, mimicking my expressions.

Then, her face twisted into something vicious as she cut through the gas pipe. The harsh sound filled the venue through the speakers.

The entire room went silent. Everyone stared at the screen with their mouths hanging open, unable to believe what they were seeing.

Then her voice boomed through the hall. "Evelyn, go to hell! I'll blow you sky high, and then you won't be able to compete with me for his attention anymore!

The words hit like a bomb.

The family members who'd been waving banners and cursing my name stood frozen. They turned stiffly to look at Jasmine crumpled on the floor, then at Gabriel standing on stage.