I didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer.

I turned on my heel and walked out of the private lounge.

My heels clicked rapidly against the polished marble floor of the corridor.

Once I was around the corner, I stopped and leaned against the cold stone wall.

I let out the long, shaky breath I had been holding in my lungs.

My heart was hammering against my ribs.

I opened my clutch purse with trembling fingers and pulled out my phone.

The screen was still lit up.

The transfer progress bar on my custom PR application had just reached one hundred percent.

The audio file from the silver brooch on my dress had successfully copied to my phone.

With a single swipe, I forwarded the encrypted file to the master control deck in the media booth.

It was done.

The evidence was locked in the system.

I took a deep, stabilizing breath and smoothed down the skirt of my emerald gown.

I needed to look entirely professional.

I needed to look like a woman who had nothing to hide.