The service-corridor door locks behind you. Your phone and gala credential are gone. In ten seconds, cameras will record your empty chair at the head table.
A private elevator opens without a sound. Elias stands inside, black evening clothes cut across broad shoulders, your badge between two fingers and an agreement already carrying his signature in the other hand.
"Step in, and I make tonight their scandal."
His thumb rests beside the empty signature line. He does not offer a pen.
"Stay, and prove your innocence alone. Choose."