"I..." Zola hesitated, uncertainty flickering in her eyes, yet despite her reservations, she was on the verge of agreeing.

After all, she reasoned, a vow was just words, and the repercussions of breaking one were mere superstitions, weren't they?

Just then, Tilda's phone rang, its chime breaking the silence.

With a faint smile, she checked the message.

"You're asking for proof, right? Here it is! Mr. Lawrence, please take a look," she said, extending the phone towards Douglass.

He accepted it with a grave demeanor and started to view the content.

Lyndon looked at her with searching eyes, seeking an explanation.

Tilda responded softly, "He deleted the footage, thinking his dirty secret wouldn't be exposed. What if I found someone who could restore it?"

Surprise flickered across Lyndon's face, marked by a spark of curiosity. "Who restored the footage, and when did you ask them to do it?"

"When you suggested we check the surveillance, Alex didn't even flinch, which made me suspicious that he might have tampered with it," Tilda explained, her smile easy. "I reached out to Hutton, a renowned hacker, to help out. He just managed to hack into the hotel's system and repair the compromised footage."

Lyndon's expression shifted to one of respect upon hearing her explanation.

He gently brushed a lock of her hair back, admiringly whispering, "You're truly astute."

With a grin, Tilda responded, "Thanks for the kind words."

As a soft scene unfolded between them, turmoil broke out elsewhere.

Alex and Zola huddled near Douglass, their eyes fixed on the playback of the surveillance footage.

The footage showed Alex and Zola entering the dressing room one after the other.

Just outside the door, Tilda heard something inside. Her hand flew to her mouth in shock as she turned to flee, nearly stumbling in her haste.

Lyndon arrived just in time to steady her, and together, they slipped into the next room.

Shortly after, Alex cautiously looked outside, followed by Zola.

Seeing the coast clear, they spoke briefly before Alex drew Zola close, his hands exploring as they retreated back into the dressing room.

Though silent, the video spoke volumes through their expressions and gestures, hinting at the impending indiscretions.

Throughout the viewing, Douglass's expression darkened ominously.

He lifted his gaze to Alex, his eyes cold and menacing.

Alex felt a chill as he met Douglass's stare, his voice shaky. "Mr. Lawrence, please, let me explain. It's not as it appears. Your wife needed assistance; she felt weak, and I was just helping her."