Chapter149 The Arranged Meeting
At noon, the Lancaster estate.
Miranda parked her car in the courtyard and deliberately glanced around. No extra vehicles.
She entered the living room. Ariana was nowhere to be seen.
At the dining table sat only her father, mother, and her brother, who had just rushed back.
Unusually, just the four of them.
"You're back." Arabella's face softened into a gentle smile when she saw her daughter. She stood up to greet her. "Go wash your hands and eat. I had the staff make your favorite dishes today."
Looking at her mother's well-maintained face that still couldn't hide the fine lines around her eyes, Miranda felt a pang of bitterness.
Her mother had been gentle her entire life, only to be thoroughly manipulated by the man beside her pillow.
If Mother knew that the niece she'd cherished for years was actually her husband's illegitimate daughter, how devastated would she be?
"Mom." Miranda walked over and gently hugged her mother, hiding the emotion in her eyes.
Christian sat across from them and gave her a reassuring look, silently telling her he had her back.
The family sat down together.
Dominic occupied the head of the table, methodically sipping his soup while occasionally glancing at Miranda from the corner of his eye.
"I heard your company has taken on several projects recently?" Dominic set down his spoon, his tone casual.
Miranda didn't look up. "It's fine. Barely keeping things running."
"Don't be so modest." Dominic smiled, though his tone lacked praise and carried a lecturing quality instead. "For a woman, no matter how successful the career, you'll eventually need to return to family. Don't work yourself to death. It's not worth ruining your health."
Miranda's hand paused on her chopsticks, but she said nothing.
She'd heard this speech her entire life.
In Dominic's eyes, a daughter's only value was in marriage alliances. Career was men's business.
Seeing her silence, Dominic cleared his throat and got to the point. "You're not getting any younger. Since you've already divorced Harrison, it's time to think about your future."
Christian, who had been eating quietly, frowned sharply. Just as he was about to speak, Miranda kicked him under the table.
Miranda set down her utensils and pulled out a napkin to wipe her mouth, her movements elegant but cold.
"Dad, I only want to focus on my company right now. I'm not in the mood for anything else."
"Not in the mood? How long do you plan to drag this out?"
Dominic's face darkened. He set his chopsticks down heavily on the plate with a sharp clink. "Look at others your age in our circle. Who doesn't already have children? You're a divorced woman. If you keep delaying, what kind of good match can you possibly find?"
Arabella immediately bristled at his words about their daughter. "My daughter can stay single if she wants, date if she wants. Even if she never marries, I can support her."
Dominic's face showed clear displeasure. He turned to Miranda, his tone hardening. "I have an old friend whose son just returned from abroad. His family background isn't as good as the Whitmores', but it's decent enough, and he doesn't mind that you're divorced. You'll come with me to meet him."
Miranda almost laughed at her father's hypocritical speech.
So in his eyes, she was clearance merchandise, and she should be grateful someone would even consider her?
Fury surged through her. The soup she'd just drunk seemed to churn in her stomach.
"I'm not going." She looked up, meeting Dominic's eyes directly, refusing him word by word.
"Nonsense!" Dominic slammed his hand on the table. "I'm your father! Would I hurt you?"
"Dad."
Christian, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, his voice cold. "Miranda is an independent person. She has the right to decide her own life. Besides, her company is doing well. She doesn't need to depend on anyone."
"Shut up! You have no say in this!" Dominic, already angry, pointed at Christian's nose. "And you too, always listening to whatever she says. Look at yourself! Since you siblings think you're so capable, maybe you don't want to inherit the Lancaster assets after all!"
Threatening them with the family fortune?
Miranda looked at this father who was so familiar yet felt so strange, and slammed her chopsticks down on the table.
The sharp crack instantly silenced the entire dining room.
Miranda stood up, her chair scraping harshly across the floor.
She leaned forward, hands braced on the table's edge. Her normally cool eyes now blazed with icy mockery as she stared at Dominic.
"Father."
She emphasized the title with bitter irony, her lips curling into a deeply sarcastic smile.
"Are you really in such a rush to marry me off for my own good?"
Dominic felt a moment of guilt under her gaze, but quickly straightened his back. "Of course! I'm your father. If I don't look out for you, who will?"
"Is that so?"
Miranda laughed coldly, her gaze sharp as a knife, as if trying to strip away his hypocritical facade.
"If you're doing this for my good, then why don't you ask what I want? Why don't you ask if I'm happy?"
"Or is it that..."
She paused briefly, then raised her voice with aggressive force.
"Someone has replaced me as your daughter in your heart? Is that why you're so eager to get rid of me!"
As her words fell, Dominic's heart skipped a beat, but anger quickly covered his reaction.
"You... you're talking nonsense!"
"Whether I'm talking nonsense or not, you know best."
Miranda had no desire to continue this charade of filial piety. She grabbed her bag and turned toward the stairs to get the raw stone.
"Stop right there!"
Dominic trembled with rage, pointing at her retreating figure. "If you dare walk out that door today, don't ever call me your father again!"
Miranda's steps paused for only a moment. Then her footsteps continued, growing fainter as her figure disappeared around the staircase.
The atmosphere in the dining room froze.
Dominic's chest heaved violently, clearly furious.
Arabella slowly set down her napkin and elegantly wiped the corners of her mouth.
"Enough, Dominic." Her voice carried an unusual coldness. "Whether Miranda wants to marry, and who she wants to marry, is her own business. Whether you're doing this for her good or for your own schemes, you know the truth."
Dominic choked, eyes widening. "You..."
"I'm finished eating."
Arabella didn't give him a chance to explode. She stood up directly. "Miranda's marriage is not your concern. If you have that much free time, you should focus more on company matters."
With that, she turned and left.
Christian, who had been quietly drinking his soup, now set down his utensils as well.
Christian stood and straightened his suit jacket, his tone casual. "I'm full too. Take your time, Father."
With that, he also left the dining room.
In an instant, only Dominic remained at the large dining table.
Looking at the table full of exquisite dishes that had barely been touched, then at the empty seats, an uncontrollable rage surged through him.
"Fine! Just fine!"
Dominic grabbed the fork in front of him and violently threw it onto the expensive dining table.
With a loud crash, the silver utensil bounced and fell, leaving a vicious scratch across the table's surface.