Dropping collaborations

Miranda's POV

The sun dipped low in the sky as the car hummed softly beneath me, the city streets blurring past. My mind buzzed with unspoken thoughts, the sting of my earlier encounter with Mara still fresh. But there was no time to dwell on the past. I needed to focus on the present, on building the life Laila deserved. The Laila of this world, rich as she was, lived as though she had nothing-a sparse wardrobe, no fine jewelry, and not even the simple indulgence of a stylish bag. That was about to change. If I was to carry out my mission, I needed to look the part.

"Driver, take me to Rosie's Supermarket," I ordered, my voice firm but calm. Rosie's was reputed to be the best in London for high-end items, a haven for the elite.

"Yes, ma'am," the driver responded, steering the car toward the bustling shopping district.

As we arrived, the vibrant lights of the supermarket illuminated the sleek facade, exuding opulence. I stepped out of the car, my heels clicking against the marble pavement. The crisp autumn breeze ruffled my hair as I adjusted my coat, my confidence palpable. I was no longer Miranda Lambert, the betrayed woman of my past. I was now Laila Martins, and I intended to wield that name with power.

The moment I entered, heads turned. The employees recognized me instantly.

"Welcome, Miss Martins," one greeted, bowing slightly.

I offered a polite nod and began browsing the displays of sparkling jewelry, each piece glimmering under the store's pristine lighting.

One necklace caught my eye-a stunning piece encrusted with diamonds, its intricate design a testament to masterful craftsmanship. It was the kind of necklace that commanded attention, a symbol of dominance and sophistication.

"How much for this?" I inquired, pointing at the necklace.

"£100, 000, ma'am," the assistant responded, almost hesitantly.

I didn't flinch. "Wrap it up," I said with a decisive nod.

The assistant hesitated, her expression faltering. "I'm sorry, Miss Martins, but this necklace has already been purchased by another client."

Anger simmered beneath my calm exterior. "I'll pay £120, 000," I said smoothly, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Before the assistant could respond, a shrill voice echoed from behind me. "Are you deaf, or just stupid? Didn't they tell you it's already sold?"

I turned slowly, my gaze locking onto the speaker. My breath hitched momentarily as recognition hit me like a tidal wave. Brenda. My cousin. My murderer.

Her sneer was unmistakable, her arrogance radiating like a toxic aura. She stood there, arms crossed, exuding the same vile energy that had defined her in my past life.

"Well, well," she sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. "Still trying to act like you're someone important, I see."

I clenched my fists at my sides, struggling to maintain composure. She didn't know it was me, and that was my advantage. I wouldn't waste it on petty anger-not yet.

The assistant tried to intervene, her voice trembling. "Miss Brenda, this customer-"

Brenda cut her off with a derisive laugh. "Customer? Look at her. She can't afford this! She's probably just here to waste your time."

Her words stung, but I refused to let them show. I straightened my posture, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips.

"What if I can buy it?" I asked coolly, meeting her gaze with unwavering confidence.

Brenda laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "You? If you can afford this necklace, then I'll buy the Eiffel Tower."

"Is that a challenge?" I countered, my voice laced with mock amusement.

Her laughter faltered, her eyes narrowing. "Don't test me, girl," she snapped, her tone venomous.

I took a step closer, lowering my voice so only she could hear. "Careful, Brenda. You might just find yourself losing more than a necklace."

Her face contorted with rage, and before I could react, she raised her hand to slap me.

But I was faster. I caught her wrist mid-air, my grip firm. "Big mistake," I murmured, twisting her arm just enough to send her sprawling onto the floor.

The gasps of onlookers echoed through the store as Brenda landed with a thud, her cry of pain sharp and piercing.

"What the hell is going on here?" a deep voice demanded, cutting through the tension like a blade.

I turned to see a tall, imposing figure striding toward us. My heart skipped a beat as recognition dawned. Desmond. My ex-husband. My betrayer.

He rushed to Brenda's side, helping her to her feet. "Brenda, are you okay?" he asked, his concern evident.

Brenda clung to him, tears streaming down her face. "She attacked me, Desmond! She's crazy!"

Desmond's gaze shifted to me, his eyes narrowing. "Miss Martins, is it?"

I met his gaze head-on, my expression unreadable. "That's right."

His demeanor changed instantly, his tone turning obsequious. "I'm Desmond, your aunt's nephew. It's an honor to meet you. I manage a company that once collaborated with the Emperor Corporation."

I forced a smile, my mind racing. So he was related to Aunt Hamilton? That explained a lot.

"Is that so?" I replied coolly. "Well, you can inform your company that our collaboration is officially terminated."

Desmond's face paled, and he dropped to his knees, pleading. "Please, Miss Martins! Don't do this!"

His desperation was a pitiful sight, a far cry from the man who had once pushed me to my death.

Ignoring him, I turned to the assistant. "Wrap up the necklace. I'll take it."

The assistant nodded quickly, rushing to comply.

As I made my way to the exit, Desmond and Brenda followed, their pleas growing more frantic. "Miss Martins, please reconsider!" Desmond begged.

Brenda grabbed his arm, trying to pull him back. "Let her go! She's not worth it!"

Desmond shoved her away, his voice sharp. "You're the reason we lost this deal!"

I smirked as I stepped into the car, my victory complete. "Drive," I ordered, and the driver pulled away, leaving the chaos behind.

Revenge was a dish best served cold, and this was only the beginning.