Chapter59 Showing Support
The back garden was brightly lit. Elegant classical music flowed through the air. Guests gathered in small groups, talking softly and laughing.
Miranda held a glass of champagne, a polished smile on her lips. She moved through the crowd with ease. When guests approached her, she greeted them with a smile, her manners impeccable and flawless.
"Miranda."
A familiar female voice called out. Miranda turned and saw Alice.
"Alice, welcome," Miranda said, raising her glass with a smile.
Alice walked over with her own drink, her eyes admiring Miranda. "You look beautiful tonight."
Since their two companies had a strong partnership and they knew each other well, the two women chatted comfortably.
Not far away, near the entrance, Ariana held Harrison's arm intimately. After handing their gilt-edged invitation to a server, they gracefully stepped into the luxurious, money-laden garden.
Ariana looked at the carefully cultivated, rare flowers that were worth a fortune.
Just the maintenance fees alone were over a million a year. Her knowledge of Prescott's wealth grew, sending a shiver of awe through her.
"Harrison, thank you," Ariana said, looking up at him with a sweet, admiring smile. "If it weren't for you, I probably wouldn't have the right to attend the Prescott heir's birthday party."
Harrison looked at her pretty, charming face, feeling a sense of satisfaction. His tone was gentle: "Don't mention it."
Ariana blinked, looking around curiously. "By the way, Harrison, which one is the Prescott heir? I don't see the guest of honor tonight."
Harrison scanned the area but also didn't see Clifton. He frowned and lowered his voice: "I don't see him. Rumor has it Clifton is not only disfigured but also completely disabled in both legs, and his personality has changed. He probably doesn't want to expose himself in this kind of setting."
Hearing this, Ariana felt a pang of sympathy, but mostly a twisted sense of relief and smugness.
It's a good thing I had foresight and held onto Harrison.
She glanced at the tall, handsome man beside her. Harrison came from a powerful family, was good-looking, and highly capable.
Only a man this good could ever be worthy of her.
Just as she was thinking this, she noticed Harrison suddenly stop, his gaze fixed in one direction, his expression complicated.
Ariana followed his line of sight and her heart skipped a beat.
It was Miranda!
She was deep in conversation with a blonde woman. Her champagne dress perfectly outlined her figure. Her skin glowed under the lights, and the smile on her face was confident and radiant. The woman looked like she was sparkling.
That pest! Ariana cursed inwardly. She's everywhere! Especially since she was so eye-catching and beautiful, outshining every other woman present.
A bitter jealousy, like a poisonous snake, gnawed at her heart.
Ariana looked away, speaking with a feigned innocence: "Harrison, isn't that my cousin? Should we go say hello?" She paused, adding just the right amount of doubt to her voice. "It's odd, though. I asked my uncle, and the Lancasters didn't get an invitation. I wonder how my cousin managed to get in?"
Her words were spoken at a volume that was neither too loud nor too soft, but they were loaded with insinuation. She was subtly implying that Miranda must have used some improper means to be there.
The moment she finished speaking, an icy, sharp male voice unexpectedly rang out behind them.
"If someone like you can come, why can't my sister be here?"
Ariana and Harrison stiffened, whipping their heads around.
Christian had appeared behind them. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, his posture straight. His usually gentle face was now covered in a sheet of frost, his eyes cold as blades, cutting directly at Ariana.
"C-Cousin," Ariana stammered, the color draining from her face when she saw him.
Christian looked at her coldly, a hint of mockery at the corner of his mouth. "My father not receiving an invitation doesn't mean I didn't. Or are you suggesting, Ariana, that when you see any lady here alone, you immediately suspect she used some dishonest method to get ahead?"
Christian hadn't lowered his voice. It clearly reached the ears of several nearby guests. Instantly, several scrutinizing gazes focused on Ariana. Those looks began to carry a subtle disdain.
Harrison's brow furrowed. He stepped forward, shielding Ariana, and spoke to Christian in a deep voice: "Christian, you've misunderstood Ariana. She meant no harm. She was just genuinely concerned about Miranda."
"Concerned?" Christian laughed, as if he'd heard a joke, though the mirth never reached his eyes. "Do you even believe that yourself?"
The tension instantly became palpable.
Just then, a lady in a blue dress nearby walked over. She had clearly overheard the entire exchange and unapologetically scrutinized Ariana, her contempt evident.
"I heard everything clearly. This young woman was questioning how that Miranda got in. The jealousy in her voice—tsk, tsk—it's impossible to hide." She sneered, then looked at Harrison, but spoke to Ariana: "If you have to rely on a man to get into an event like this, don't assume everyone else is as low as you are."
This lady was a famous socialite with a fiery temper and no tolerance for Ariana's uncouth pettiness. When she spoke up, the surrounding guests naturally believed her.
"You!"
Ariana was choked by the words. Her face was pale, alternating between green and white. She was trembling with rage, her nails digging deeply into her palms, drawing blood. Yet, she dared not say a word in rebuttal. She knew that if she talked back to this socialite, she'd be blacklisted from the upper circles by tomorrow. Humiliation, awkwardness, and fury tangled together, nearly causing her to lose control.
Just as the standoff intensified, an old but robust voice rang out.
"Heh, quite lively tonight."
Everyone turned to see Mr. Prescott slowly approaching, followed by several bodyguards. A kindly smile was on his face, but his gaze sharply swept over everyone present.
"It is Clifton's birthday tonight, and all of you are our guests." Prescott's voice was neither loud nor soft, but carried undeniable authority. "Every guest who has walked through that door is an esteemed guest, sincerely invited by the Prescott family."
With those simple words, he avoided publicly scolding anyone, yet subtly vindicated Miranda. The statement instantly diffused the tension and gave everyone a dignified way to back down.