The video showed surveillance footage from the first room that caught fire.

In the footage, a man and a woman walked into the room with their arms around each other. The man was Linden, the woman was Rosalind.

The surveillance was not only high-definition but had audio too.

"Why are we having our date here again? Didn't we agree to go out to eat?" Rosalind complained with a pout.

Linden kissed her forehead and said soothingly, "Aurora hasn't sold my paintings yet, so bear with me for now, babe."

"Fine, then I'll light the candles. Even if we're stuck here, we need to set the mood somehow."

Rosalind lit her favorite scented candle in the corner of the room—the very thing that would spark the massive fire.

Linden had arranged a gourmet meal prepared by a private chef for her. He couldn't have afforded it with his current income, so it was no doubt that he'd charged it to my account.

Linden and Rosalind were all over each other, lost in passion as they tumbled onto the couch nearby. They stripped off all their clothes, so caught up in the moment that they didn't even notice when the candle had set the curtains on fire.

By the time they finally realized something was wrong, the flames had already spread to other rooms.

Now the real cause of the fire was crystal clear. The high-definition video and audio were undeniable proof.

Netizens finally realized that Rosalind was the actual arsonist!

Meanwhile, my lawyer said the court would be hearing my case soon. They'd finally be held accountable for destroying my reputation.

When the truth came out, people went nuclear one by one. Nothing would enrage someone more than realizing they had been manipulated.

This time, even Rosalind's most loyal fans couldn't defend her anymore. Furious netizens turned the same vicious t

Rosalind was riding high now, and Linden was living it up. They'd teamed up to watch me crash and burn.

But everyone had forgotten about one thing—I was the one who loved Linden most.

Because I loved him, I bought him that studio, paid for his exhibitions out of my own pocket, and spent countless dollars promoting his art through every connection I had.

I loved Linden so intensely that even when I wasn't with him, I wanted to watch what he was doing secretly. So, I gradually installed hidden cameras everywhere throughout that studio.

I was afraid of missing a single moment of Linden's life. So I paid top dollar to have the camera feeds automatically saved to cloud storage in real time.

Even though the fire destroyed everything, I could still access the footage. I logged into the cloud storage, entering Linden's birthday as the password.

I pulled up the surveillance from the day of the fire and went through it room by room. Everything looked normal until Rosalind appeared.

I watched them walk together and go into a room. That was when I knew I'd found my arsonist.

…

When the cyberbullying reached its peak, I made a move nobody saw coming.

I registered an account under my real name and posted my first video demanding that Rosalind and Linden publicly apologize to me. I also announced that I'd hired a lawyer and was planning to sue them both.

This made the attacks on me even worse. I gained a lot of followers, but they were all there to tear me apart, launching direct personal attacks on me.

They thought I was completely shameless, that I was just a supposed arsonist demanding an apology from her victims.

Rosalind and Linden immediately posted response videos. It was the same tactics as always, vague hints and sob stories that sent everyone into a rage.

That was when I posted my second video.

This time I smiled at the camera and said, "Rosalind, Linden, you're my dearest friends. But I have plenty of evidence about this situation, so I hope you'll think carefully before you act."

When I mentioned having evidence, Rosalind and Linden went quiet. They were probably trying to figure out whether I actually had proof, and if so, what kind.

But the users they'd riled up didn't care about any of that. They kept attacking me from every angle, screaming, "If you have evidence, then show it! Stop wasting everyone's time!"

I wasn't wasting time. I was waiting to see how Linden and Rosalind would react.

Linden called me privately, trying to get information out of me. But I kept my guard up and didn't reveal anything.

By the end of the call, he was furious that he couldn't get what he wanted.

"Just keep pretending, Aurora! The studio's been burned to ash, so what evidence could you possibly have? You're just trying to scare us, and I'm not falling for it!"

He hung up on me, and I smiled.

Sure enough, not long after, Rosalind posted another video. They were convinced I had no evidence, so they went all out, demanding that I apologize and pay them a hefty sum for emotional damages.

I left a comment under that video with just three words—"See you tomorrow."

Those simple three words became a ticking time bomb that kept them up all night. Netizens were waiting too, waiting for whatever "tomorrow" would bring.

The next morning at 9:00 am, my scheduled video went live on social media.

The video showed surveillance footage from the first room that caught fire.

In the footage, a man and a woman walked into the room with their arms around each other. The man was Linden, the woman was Rosalind.

The surveillance was not only high-definition but had audio too.

"Why are we having our date here again? Didn't we agree to go out to eat?" Rosalind complained with a pout.

Linden kissed her forehead and said soothingly, "Aurora hasn't sold my paintings yet, so bear with me for now, babe."

"Fine, then I'll light the candles. Even if we're stuck here, we need to set the mood somehow."

Rosalind lit her favorite scented candle in the corner of the room—the very thing that would spark the massive fire.

Linden had arranged a gourmet meal prepared by a private chef for her. He couldn't have afforded it with his current income, so it was no doubt that he'd charged it to my account.

I used to not pay attention to these things or care how much money was being spent. Looking back n

Chapter 8 The Truth About the Fire