“Hadley, what are you planning to do? Relax. Leave it to Lilah. It's not as bad as it seems. She's got this. What are you so afraid of?"

Devonte's smile was calm and reassuring. "Let's sit down and enjoy the show."

The other two old men pulled out four chairs, arranged them comfortably, and brought over snacks, settling in to watch the unfolding drama with delight.

Despite her initial worry, Hadley felt a wave of relief seeing their confidence and sat down.

“Why do you defend him so fiercely? Oh, I get it. You're the one who brought him on board, aren't you? Making money off plagiarism, huh? No wonder you're so protective!"

A sneering voice cut through the tension, dripping with accusation.

Instantly, the crowd's attention shifted from Trey to Lilah, their emotions reigniting.

“Look at her-all flashy and no substance. Clearly, she uses men to get ahead.”

“She doesn't seem capable of anything. How could she possibly know how to create perfume? She must be copying others!"

“With a leader like her, it's no surprise she hired a plagiarist. This is just pathetic!"

The voices of ridicule and judgment grew louder and more vicious.

With Trey pushed aside, Lilah found herself thrust into the eye of the storm.

It was clear that someone was orchestrating this entire affair, and now the spotlight was squarely on her.

“May I have your attention, please?" Clutching the microphone firmly, Lilah cast a pointed look at the three old men lounging on the second-floor area, munching on snacks. With a subtle gesture, she beckoned them downstairs to stand by her side.

“I stake my reputation on this: Trey is innocent of any plagiarism. I ask you all, who benefits from these baseless accusations?"

Lilah's voice, though calm, cut through the room with icy precision, rendering the grand hall eerily silent.

Surveying the assembled guests, she noted their varied reactions—some poker-faced, others skeptical, and a few nervously avoiding her gaze.

A smirk tugged at Lilah's lips as she identified her targets.

Meanwhile, the three old men discreetly approached from the rear of the crowd, with Devonte giving Lilah a signal.

Lilah pointed out a man in a sleek black tuxedo on the left and a woman in an elegant red Chanel dress to his right. Her gaze then fixed squarely on Ruth, who observed with undisguised amusement.

She indicted six people with a deliberate gesture.

These were the orchestrators, but the true puppet master was Ruth.

“What is the meaning of this? Why are you pointing at us?" Ruth's voice rang out, laced with defiance and discomfort as she glanced at her cohorts.

Damn it! They had been too careless.