Chapter174 Clifton Breaks His Promise
Ariana's hair was a mess. Her expensive Chanel suit was wrinkled beyond recognition. She clenched her teeth, her eyes filled with red veins.
"I told you, I didn't do it!" she shrieked, her voice hoarse. "This is slander! That bitch Miranda is framing me! I want to see my lawyer. I won't say another word until my lawyer gets here!"
"Framing you?"
The officer scoffed and slammed the folder onto the table. "Still playing tough at this point? You want evidence? Fine, I'll show you."
He pulled out a stack of interrogation documents and a player from a file envelope nearby.
As the recording played, Ariana's body began to tremble violently. The last trace of color drained from her face.
Because it was her entire phone conversation instructing Zron to kidnap Miranda and stage an accident.
She had deleted the call history. She had canceled the SIM card. How could this recording still exist?
"This... this is fake! It's not me!" She was still desperately denying it, but her eyes had already gone unfocused.
"Fake?" The officer didn't waste words. He tossed down a thick file. "This is the call log that our tech department just recovered, along with your bank transfer records. We have witnesses and evidence. Zron confessed everything to reduce his sentence and told us exactly how you two planned it."
The officer braced his hands on the table and leaned forward, his overwhelming presence making Ariana gasp for air.
"Ariana, you're suspected of kidnapping and inciting murder. The nature of this crime is extremely serious. If you don't confess, you can expect to rot in prison!"
In that instant, Ariana felt all the strength drain from her body.
She slumped in the interrogation chair, staring blankly at the harsh white light above.
It was over.
Completely over.
Unable to hold out any longer, Ariana began to confess everything under police questioning.
The police worked with remarkable efficiency.
As the primary perpetrator who directly carried out the kidnapping and possessed explosives, and as a repeat offender, Zron received multiple charges. He was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.
Ariana, for inciting kidnapping and attempted murder with especially serious circumstances, was sentenced to fifteen years in prison.
From high and mighty socialite to convicted criminal in just a few hours.
When Ariana was pushed through the prison doors, she suddenly turned and struggled like a madwoman, only to be shoved inside by the guards without mercy.
The iron door slammed shut, cutting off all light and hope.
Prescott Manor.
A delicate aroma of home cooking wafted through the kitchen.
Miranda had her hair casually pinned up, an apron tied around her waist, as she carried a freshly made dish toward the dining room.
"Don't. I'll get it."
A low, tense voice suddenly spoke.
Clifton had just ended a call with his assistant by the floor-to-ceiling windows. Turning around to see this, his brow furrowed immediately.
He strode over in a few steps and took the plate from her hands without discussion, his tone clearly disapproving. "Didn't I say to let the chef handle it? Do you not want your hands anymore?"
With the plate taken from her, Miranda's hands were empty. She looked at his tense jaw but felt warmth spreading through her heart.
"I'm fine." She smiled, her voice light. "The family doctor said it's just superficial wounds. Nothing serious. A few days of medication and I'll be good as new. Besides, I didn't do any heavy lifting. Just made a couple of dishes."
Clifton set the plate steadily on the dining table, then turned to look at her with a hint of helplessness in his eyes. "I was just joking earlier. We have a chef at home. There's no need to do it yourself."
What he'd said outside the competition venue's back door was meant to cheer her up and help her shake off the tension.
"That's different."
Miranda walked to the table and pulled out a chair for Clifton to sit. Her expression was serious. "Since I already promised you, I have to follow through."
"Go on, try it. This is a new recipe I learned. See if you like it." Miranda handed him the utensils, a hint of anticipation in her eyes.
Clifton looked into her bright eyes and took a bite of the steaming dish.
"Delicious." Clifton nodded. "You eat too."
Miranda took a bite, her eyes curving with happiness. "If you like it, I'll make it for you whenever I have time."
Clifton watched the smile at the corner of her lips and gave a low "Mm."
The dinner was warm and peaceful, free from the outside world's chaos. There was only the occasional clink of utensils and their quiet conversation.
That afternoon, Miranda took a nap. When she woke, she felt her energy had fully returned.
Checking the time, she started getting dressed.
Tonight, there was a company dinner with her employees to celebrate winning first place. It was essentially a victory party.
"I might be back a little late tonight." Miranda told Clifton. "Having a celebration dinner with the team."
Hearing this, Clifton asked, "What time will it end?"
"Probably around eight thirty or so. It won't be too late." Miranda thought for a moment.
"Alright. I'll pick you up."
...
Eight thirty that night.
Outside a private room at an upscale club.
The noise from inside had died down. Miranda stood by a window in the hallway, looking down at her phone screen.
This was the fifth time she'd checked the time.
Eight forty-five.
The message she'd sent Clifton half an hour ago still sat there unanswered.
"I'm done here. Have you left yet?"
No reply. The chat window was silent.
Miranda's fingers tightened slightly around her phone. She guessed Clifton might have been called away for an urgent matter and hadn't had time to respond.
She looked up at the glittering night view outside the window, then turned and left the club to hail a cab.
She arrived at Prescott Manor.
The night breeze was a bit cool. Miranda pulled her collar tighter and walked through the garden toward the brightly lit mansion.
Before she even reached the door, she could faintly hear laughter coming from inside through the heavy door.
Miranda paused, her steps faltering.
There were guests?
She changed her shoes and walked past the foyer into the living room.
The crystal chandelier was fully lit, illuminating every corner.
On the leather sofa sat an unfamiliar young woman.
The woman wore a pale lavender dress. Her long hair cascaded like a waterfall. Her profile was gentle and beautiful. She was holding an elegant gift box, chatting animatedly with Celeste, who sat across from her.
The two were deep in conversation when they heard the sound at the door. Their gazes snapped over in unison.
Their eyes met.
Miranda got a clear look at the other woman's face.
Very beautiful.
Not an aggressive kind of beauty, but a soft, approachable elegance that made people want to get close to her.
Those eyes held a smile at that moment, the kind that seemed to draw you in without even trying.
The woman set down what she was holding and rose gracefully. Her gaze swept over Miranda before settling on her striking face.
A smile played at her lips, her voice gentle. "You must be Clifton's wife?"
"Hello. I'm Isabella Martinez."