Chapter 187

A sudden commotion erupted in the back of the venue.

A young man wearing black-framed glasses shot to his feet. His phone screen glowed unnaturally bright in the dim lighting. His face turned ghostly pale as he stared at the screen, fingers trembling uncontrollably.

"This can't be..." he muttered under his breath.

His companion leaned over curiously, then gasped. "Holy shit! Isn't that Nicole Capra?"

The video showed a woman with half-removed clothing entangled with an unfamiliar man. That face—it was unmistakably Nicole Capra, who currently stood radiant on stage.

"Bullshit!" The bespectacled man exploded in rage. "Nicole would never do this! She's been saving herself for Andrew Lucas!"

Yet the ruby wristwatch in the video matched the one gleaming on Nicole's wrist on stage.

Several of Bella Lucas' fans in the front rows snickered. "Oh? The 'Pure Jade Maiden' image crumbling already?"

"Shut up!" the glasses-wearing man roared. "This is obviously deepfake! Someone's trying to sabotage Nicole!"

A pink-haired girl nearby waved her phone. "Nice try. I just received it too. HD, uncensored. Even the mole on her waist is crystal clear."

Whispers spread like wildfire through the crowd.

On stage, Nicole gracefully fielded reporters' questions.

"Andrew and I..." She lowered her eyes demurely. "The wedding preparations are underway."

A reporter pressed, "Rumor has it Mr. Lucas particularly admires your chaste virtue?"

Nicole's lips curved into a practiced smile. "Andrew was my first man. And he'll be my last."

The moment the words left her mouth, a suited man charged onto the stage, shoving a phone in her face. "Miss Capra, care to explain this video?"

The main screen flickered. In high definition, Nicole straddled a balding man, her wanton behavior a stark contrast to her poised stage presence.

The audience erupted.

Nicole's smile froze. She staggered back, the microphone crashing to the floor with a deafening screech.

"That's not me..." Her voice shook. "It's doctored..."

No one listened. Chaos consumed the venue—fans tore up support banners, reporters' cameras flashed relentlessly.

From the VIP section, Andrew Lucas rose without expression. He walked toward the exit without a backward glance.

Nicole stretched out a desperate hand. "Andrew, let me explain—"

The slamming door was his only reply.