Chapter78 Rumors
The next morning.
Miranda was jolted awake from sleep by an urgent phone ringtone.
Memories from last night flooded her mind like broken waves, fragmented and continuous. Her cheeks heated up, and she buried her head into the soft pillow, trying to dispel those heart-racing images.
But the phone kept ringing persistently.
Miranda resignedly stretched out her arm, grabbed her phone from the nightstand, saw it was Castillo calling, and slid to answer with her eyes still closed, her voice thick with sleep: "Hello..."
"Miranda, you can still sleep?" On the other end, Castillo's voice exploded like a machine gun, urgent and rapid. "Something big happened. Quick, check Twitter. The trending topics are blowing up."
Miranda's drowsiness instantly dissipated by half. She sat up, her silk robe sliding down her smooth shoulders, revealing a small patch of ambiguous red marks from where the man had nibbled last night.
She frowned: "What happened?"
"Out of nowhere, there are rumors saying you cheated during your marriage to Harrison and that's why you divorced. The whole internet is cursing you, calling you a rich family slut, pinning all kinds of baseless accusations on you. This has got to be someone screwing you over."
After hanging up, Miranda's fingers tightened slightly as she opened Twitter.
Sure enough, several glaring topics with her name hung high on the trending list.
#MirandaCheatedInMarriage #WhitmoreGroupFormerCEOWifeMessyPrivateLife #RevealingTrueFaceOfWealthyGrudgeWife
The harsh words were like needles stabbing into her eyes.
She randomly clicked on one. The comment section had completely fallen. Vile language flooded in, and some so-called "insiders" added fuel to the fire below.
[Insider A: I heard about it long ago. She was restless when she married Harrison, often coming home in the middle of the night. Who knows where she was messing around.]
[Insider B: Ha, my friend worked as a maid in their house. Said her temper was terrible and she often gave Harrison the cold shoulder. Harrison was really unlucky.]
[Insider C: This kind of woman should go to jail. I feel sorry for my idol Harrison.]
The rumors came on strong, with a viciousness determined to trample her into the mud, nothing like normally fermented public opinion.
Miranda scrolled through expressionlessly, the temperature in her eyes dropping inch by inch.
She threw off the covers, got out of bed, and walked straight to the desk to open her laptop.
Her slender, fair fingers flew rapidly across the keyboard. In just a few minutes, she traced several of the most active accounts to their IPs.
As expected, all troll farm companies.
This situation was one hundred percent being pushed by someone behind the scenes.
Miranda's eyes stared at those filthy words on the screen, her lips pressed into a cold line.
Besides Ariana, she couldn't think of a second person who had emotional entanglements with both her and Harrison.
Downstairs in the living room.
Celeste held up her phone, almost shoving it in Clifton's face, her tone full of undisguised schadenfreude and contempt.
"Cousin, look at this. I told you Miranda wasn't a good person, but you didn't believe me. Now the whole internet knows she's a promiscuous woman. I think you should divorce her quickly and leave her with nothing."
Clifton was leisurely flipping through a financial newspaper. Hearing this, he didn't even lift an eyelid. He merely glanced at those filthy headlines on Celeste's phone screen, his voice cold without a trace of emotion.
"You better hope I don't find out you did this."
Celeste's heart jumped at that look. Unconvinced, she pouted and retorted defensively: "It wasn't me. I'm not that bored."
But she muttered internally: I didn't actively spread it. I just saw the rumor and bought some trolls to fan the flames a bit. How could that count as me doing it?
Clifton methodically folded the newspaper and placed it on the coffee table beside him.
He looked up, those bottomless black eyes quietly watching Celeste, his gaze sharp as if seeing through people's hearts.
"I know my wife's character better than you. I don't need you running to me telling me what kind of person she is."
The three words "my wife" were emphasized just enough, carrying a hint of protectiveness.
Celeste was choked speechless, only able to pout resentfully.
Just then, Miranda came down the stairs.
She'd already changed into a sharp business suit, her expression cool, showing no trace of being affected by the rumors.
The moment Celeste saw her, it was like seeing something dirty. She glared viciously at her, turned, and stormed off angrily.
Miranda glanced at her furious retreating figure, paid it no mind, and walked straight to sit on the sofa opposite Clifton.
She looked up and saw the man's tense jawline and slightly furrowed brows, his incomparably handsome face full of displeasure.
Was he... angry about the online situation?
That made sense. A family like the Prescotts valued reputation most.
With herself, his nominal wife, involved in such a scandal, his anger was natural.
Clifton looked at her, about to ask about the online situation, when Miranda's cool voice spoke first.
"Don't worry." She looked at him, her tone as calm as discussing a business contract. "I'll handle the online situation myself. It won't implicate the Prescotts."
She paused and added: "Although ours is a contract marriage, since this matter arose because of me, I'll proactively explain to your grandfather so he won't misunderstand."
Clifton's brows furrowed even tighter instantly.
He looked at Miranda's expressionless face, especially how she'd interrupted him without hesitation and that deliberately emphasized "contract marriage." Inexplicable irritation flared in his chest.
Was she drawing boundaries with him?
Didn't want to trouble him, or did she think he'd blame her because of a few online rumors? Was he so unworthy of her trust?
Last night she'd been docile beneath him, letting him take what he wanted. This morning, she'd already raised all her defenses again.
Clifton took a deep breath, suppressing that inexplicable emotion, his gaze locking heavily on her.
"What about me?" he asked, his voice colder than before. "Do you have nothing to say to me?"
Miranda was stunned, looking at him in confusion.
Did he believe the online rumors and want an explanation?
That made sense. After all, they were husband and wife now, even if fake.
She pressed her lips together and said: "During my marriage to Harrison, I never did anything unfaithful."
"Ha."
Clifton suddenly laughed mockingly, that laughter carrying thick self-deprecation and a hint of anger even he hadn't noticed.
What a "never unfaithful."
Was that what he wanted?
Last night, though they hadn't gone all the way, they'd been intimate enough. When he spoke today, he only wanted to ask if she needed his help.
And the result?
Like a startled hedgehog, she couldn't wait to show her spikes, distance herself completely, and redefine their relationship back to that cold contract.
Clifton slowly stood, looking down at her, the last bit of warmth in his eyes disappearing.
He mockingly curved his lips and dropped three words.
"Whatever you want."
After speaking, he didn't look at her again, turned, and strode toward upstairs.
Well-tailored dress pants wrapped his long, straight legs. His back radiated coldness with an intimidating aura that kept others away.
Miranda watched his figure disappear around the stair corner, her attractive brows slightly furrowing.
Was he... angry or not?