Chapter176 Humiliation
The next morning, in the dining room.
Miranda ate her breakfast. After an entire night of self-reflection, the bitterness in her heart had faded considerably.
When she really thought about it, it was these past weeks of living together, combined with Clifton protecting her time and again in dangerous situations, that had caused her to develop feelings she shouldn't have. She wasn't used to relying on anyone. But somehow, she'd started depending on him.
Now she was grateful she'd woken up early enough.
After all...
Her relationship with Clifton had never been some fairy tale romance between a prince and princess.
If Clifton hadn't needed a presentable, clean-backgrounded, and smart "shield" of a wife to appease his grandfather, they probably would never have crossed paths in this lifetime.
Before he even signed his name, he had fixed those unfathomable eyes on her and warned her coldly: He wanted an obedient wife, not a troublesome lover. Don't fall for him. That was the bottom line.
What had she said back then?
She'd said: I can do that.
Clearly, she had crossed the line.
Miranda took a deep breath, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the cold marble pattern on the table.
Cut your losses.
Those words hammered through her mind.
She was grateful that last night's scene had jolted her awake before she fell any deeper.
What right did she have to think about love right now?
Her father didn't care for her or her brother. They needed to seize control of the company as soon as possible.
Her mother had been hospitalized recently and needed proper care.
Her own company was at a critical stage of expansion. She had too much to do. There was simply no time to think about romance.
Once she thought it through, Miranda's tense shoulders relaxed. The confusion in her eyes faded, replaced by her usual calm determination.
Since this was a contract, she would do what she was supposed to do.
Going shopping with Celeste and Isabella today would just be another task.
After all, the "compensation" Clifton had given her was generous.
Miranda picked up the Americano beside her and took a sip.
The bitter taste spread through her mouth, but it made her feel sharp and awake.
She sat on the living room sofa waiting for an hour before there was finally movement upstairs.
Celeste came down the stairs arm in arm with Isabella, the two of them chatting and laughing.
Isabella had changed into a cream-colored knit outfit, her hair pulled back in a casual low ponytail. She radiated an effortless, intellectual elegance.
Celeste wore a pink tweed skirt suit.
As they passed through the living room, their eyes swept over Miranda, but they acted as if she wasn't there. They didn't even slow down, walking straight toward the door.
"Is the car ready? The sun's so strong today. I don't want it ruining my skin." Celeste complained as she walked.
Isabella responded gently. "Don't worry. The butler arranged everything."
They treated Miranda, who had been sitting on the sofa waiting for an hour, like she was invisible.
Miranda didn't get upset. She didn't even frown. She simply closed her tablet, picked up her bag, and followed them out.
This kind of dismissal didn't bother her at all.
The car sped along and stopped in front of the most exclusive luxury mall in the city center.
This was the playground of socialites and wealthy wives. A single piece of clothing here cost more than an average person's yearly salary.
The moment they entered the mall, Celeste dragged Isabella straight to her usual haute couture boutiques.
Celeste chattered nonstop, eagerly holding up various outfits against Isabella.
Isabella maintained a graceful smile throughout, occasionally nodding or offering a soft comment.
The two walked ahead arm in arm while Miranda followed at an unhurried pace, keeping two or three steps behind.
She was like the perfect companion. Quiet. Invisible. Utterly forgettable.
They entered a high-end ready-to-wear boutique from a major fashion house.
The sales associate clearly recognized Celeste and rushed over with a beaming smile.
"Miss, you're here! We just got some new fall pieces. I set them aside especially for you."
Celeste nodded haughtily and gestured at Isabella beside her. "Bring out everything that would suit her."
"Of course. One moment please."
Soon, rows of exquisite, glamorous clothes were wheeled out.
Celeste and Isabella began trying things on.
This went on for over half an hour.
They changed through more than a dozen outfits, from dresses to coats to shoes and accessories, leaving the fitting room overflowing.
Miranda found a single armchair in a corner and sat down, picking up a fashion magazine to flip through.
Just as she was lost in thought over a uniquely designed brooch in the magazine, a sharp voice shattered her peace.
"Miranda."
Miranda's fingers paused on the page. She looked up.
Celeste stood in front of the fitting mirror, holding a pair of crystal-studded high heels, looking at her like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"What are you sitting there for? Can't you see we need to try on shoes?"
Celeste lifted her chin, her eyes filled with undisguised contempt and malice.
She was doing this on purpose.
From the moment they left the house, she had deliberately ignored Miranda, deliberately snubbed her. All to make her understand that in this world, Miranda would always be an outsider who didn't belong.
Besides, Miranda was the reason Isabella hadn't married Clifton. She had to get revenge for Isabella.
"Come help Isabella change her shoes."
Miranda closed the magazine. Her face showed none of the embarrassment or anger Celeste had expected.
She looked at Celeste calmly, her voice even. "There are sales associates here. You can ask them."
Celeste sneered and dropped the shoes into Miranda's lap.
"The associate went to find the right size dress for me. No one's available right now."
She pointed at the shoes now in Miranda's hands. "Isabella's wearing a dress. It's hard for her to bend down. Go over there and help her change into these."
She said it so naturally, as if Miranda wasn't her sister-in-law at all, but a servant hired specifically to handle shoes.
Isabella seemed to feel "a little bad" about it. She tugged lightly at Celeste's sleeve and said softly, "Celeste, it's fine. I can do it myself. Don't trouble Miranda."
Her mouth said she didn't need help, but her body stayed perfectly straight, showing no intention of bending down herself.
In fact, her gaze swept over Miranda with a barely perceptible hint of scrutiny and superiority.
This only encouraged Celeste more.
She grabbed Isabella's hand and glared at Miranda. "What trouble? Why do you think Grandpa told her to come with us? To take care of us, obviously."
"Miranda, hurry up! Isabella still has more to try on. Stop wasting time!"
Miranda rose slowly to her feet. She could tell Celeste was deliberately using this petty task to humiliate her.
And she had figured out why Celeste disliked her. Celeste thought she had stolen Isabella's rightful place. In Celeste's mind, Isabella was the one who should be Mrs. Prescott.
Miranda met Celeste's gaze coolly. Those beautiful eyes held not a trace of fear.
"I'm your sister-in-law. Not your nanny. And certainly not this store's sales associate."
Celeste clearly hadn't expected the usually mild-mannered Miranda to talk back to her in public. She froze for a second, then her temper flared.
"What kind of sister-in-law are you? You're just someone Grandpa forced Clifton to marry..."