Chapter121 Don't You Want to Know Who the Real Mistress Is?
The next morning.
Miranda had just arrived at the company and hadn't even put down her bag when her office door was violently pushed open.
"Miranda, there's trouble."
Lisa was always known for her composure, carrying herself with a professional, efficient air.
But today, her hair was disheveled, her glasses askew, and her expression showed unprecedented panic.
Miranda's heart sank. She set down her coffee cup and frowned. "What happened? Is there a problem with the raw materials?"
"Not the materials."
Lisa was breathing hard, pointing behind her. "It's... it's a crazy woman."
"She brought four bodyguards and stormed right into the company. The receptionist tried to stop her, but those bodyguards pushed her down and even smashed the computer."
Miranda shot to her feet, her eyes instantly sharp.
"Who would dare to be so arrogant?"
"I don't know." Lisa was nearly in tears. "She came in demanding to see you by name, and the things she's saying... they're really awful."
Before she could finish, a commotion erupted in the hallway outside.
Accompanied by the sound of shattering glass, a shrill female voice pierced through the soundproof door, reaching them clearly.
"Where's Miranda? Tell that shameless homewrecker to get out here!"
"She dares to be a mistress and seduce men, but now she's playing turtle and hiding?"
"Smash everything! Destroy this worthless company. Let's see how long she can hide."
Outside the office, chaos reigned.
The previously orderly work area looked like it had just weathered a typhoon.
Files were scattered across the floor, and several workstation monitors had been knocked over and smashed to pieces.
Employees cowered in corners, trembling with fear.
Elara stood in the center of the hall wearing a bright red dress and sky-high heels, carrying a limited edition crocodile leather bag. Behind her stood four bodyguards in black suits and sunglasses, looking menacing, holding batons they'd seized from security.
"Miranda!"
Elara shrieked at the top of her lungs. "If you have the guts to seduce my husband, have the guts to show your face!"
"Let me tell you, if you don't come out and slap yourself and apologize, I'll make sure this pathetic company never opens its doors again."
"Come out! You slut!"
Nearby employees exchanged shocked glances, their eyes filled with disbelief.
Their usually decisive, no-nonsense Miranda was actually... a mistress?
"This is too explosive."
"Looking at how confident the wife is, it doesn't seem fake."
"You never really know people. Miranda always seemed so cold and aloof, but turns out..."
Whispered conversations buzzed through the air like flies.
At that moment, the CEO's office door opened from the inside.
The entire hall fell silent instantly. Even Elara froze, instinctively closing her mouth.
Miranda stood in the doorway wearing a sharply tailored black business suit, her long hair pinned up high, exposing her slender, pale neck.
Her expression was blank, her cold eyes frosted over like ice as her sharp gaze swept across the room.
Finally, her eyes locked on Elara.
Without a trace of panic or guilt.
Miranda walked forward in her heels, step by step, her presence overwhelming as she approached Elara, somehow managing to dominate the other woman completely.
She looked down at the ranting woman before her, her red lips parting to speak three words:
"Who are you?"
"I'm Thomas's wife, Elara." Elara advanced step by step, her eyes looking ready to devour Miranda alive.
She seethed through clenched teeth: "Since you dared to be my husband's mistress, don't you know he has a family? Or is it that you homewreckers just enjoy destroying other people's marriages for thrills?"
Miranda's brow furrowed deeply. Rather than being intimidated, she caught the key point in those words.
"Your husband... you mean the rider who won first place at the equestrian club yesterday, Thomas?"
The host had announced the name during yesterday morning's award ceremony.
"That's right, him."
Elara laughed coldly, her contempt practically overflowing. "What? Remember now? Yesterday you were making eyes at each other on stage, and today you want to play amnesia?"
Miranda looked at this hysterical woman before her and found the situation absurd.
"Miss, I think you're mistaken."
Her voice was cold and clear, methodical. "I have no private relationship with your husband whatsoever. Yesterday I was selected as the club's lucky audience member to present the award. It was an official public event with hundreds of people watching. You can verify it."
"Mistaken?"
Elara laughed coldly.
"Out of hundreds of people, you just happened to be the lucky one selected? And that riding outfit you wore yesterday was bought by my husband."
Hearing this, Miranda frowned, wondering if this woman had some kind of delusional disorder.
"Nothing to say now?"
Seeing Miranda's silence, Elara assumed she felt guilty, becoming even more aggressive.
"My husband knelt before me yesterday and admitted everything."
"I'm going to sue you. I'm going to make you return every cent you spent of my husband's money. I'm going to recover all our marital assets."
The surrounding employees gasped, their view of Miranda completely transformed.
Miranda took a deep breath, suppressing the chill rising in her chest.
She lifted her head, her gaze even more resolute than before, with a sharp edge.
"I'll say this one last time. I am not your husband's mistress. That outfit was not a gift from your husband either."
"Why your husband admitted it, you should go home and ask him. Now, please take your people and leave my company, or I'll call the police."
"Call the police?"
Elara was completely enraged. "Fine, call them! I want to see if the police arrest you for destroying someone's marriage, you whore, or if they arrest me."
"Grab this bitch." Elara stepped back, shouting harshly at her bodyguards. "Expose her face, strip off her clothes. I want to take a video and post this shameless mistress online so the whole city can see what a slut looks like."
The four bodyguards immediately closed in with their batons.
The situation spiraled out of control.
A large hand reached for Miranda's shoulder.
Miranda's eyes flashed. She dodged nimbly to the side and grabbed a nearby cup of hot coffee, splashing it at him.
"Ahhh!" The bodyguard screamed, covering his face.
"You dare fight back?" Elara went mad. "Beat her! I'll take responsibility for whatever happens."
Another bodyguard lunged forward.
Miranda, with her smaller frame, was forced to retreat repeatedly until her back slammed hard into a filing cabinet, making her grunt in pain.
"I have the receipt for the outfit right here. Let's see you try to deny it."
Elara suddenly pulled the receipt from her bag and held it up, her expression twisted. "Miranda, I'll destroy your reputation and make you pay for my emotional distress. I'll make sure you can never hold your head up again."
Just as the bodyguard's hand was about to touch Miranda's collar.
Miranda suddenly shouted: "Wait!"
The bodyguard's movement instinctively paused.
She had originally thought Elara was delusional, but the receipt was real. Could it be that her husband really did have a mistress, but she'd simply identified the wrong person?
Miranda looked at Elara. "Let's talk this through clearly. Come into my office."
"You're scared now? Want to settle privately? I'll never give you that chance." Elara crossed her arms, looking disdainful.
Miranda frowned. "Don't you want to know who the real mistress actually is?"