Chapter232 You're So Beautiful I Want to Hide You Away
Inside the Martinez family's lavish European-style villa.
A bodyguard stood before Mrs. Martinez and spoke in a low voice. "Ma'am, once Dominic finds out Miranda married into the Prescott family, he'll never dare trouble her again."
"That's exactly what I want." Mrs. Martinez lifted a bone china teacup from the table, blew gently at the rising steam, and let a cold smile settle on her lips.
"Dominic is a greedy, social-climbing snake. When he finds out that the daughter he always looked down on has become the granddaughter-in-law of the Prescott empire, he'll come crawling. He'll bend over backwards to get into her good graces!"
"And that's when the real fun begins."
She turned the USB drive over in her fingers, her smile growing colder.
On that drive was the video of Dominic slapping Miranda in the street the day he found out she was with a man in a wheelchair.
"Once Dominic has played the devoted father to perfection, we'll make sure that video finds its way to Mr. Prescott. Accidentally, of course."
"Mr. Prescott is a proud man. When he sees that his grandson's own father-in-law was so disgusted by the idea of his daughter marrying a disabled Prescott that he hit her in public..."
"He won't just think Dominic is a hypocrite. He'll think Dominic despises the grandson he loves most, down to his very bones."
Her plan was simple. That would turn Mr. Prescott against Dominic, and then, against Miranda.
Mr. Prescott would start to wonder: if Miranda came from a man like that, how good could she really be?
How long would a daughter-in-law who brought shame to the Prescott name be allowed to stay?
The bodyguard understood immediately.
She was going to use Dominic as the blade to cut his own daughter's path to this family clean off.
The moment Mr. Prescott looked into it, every ounce of contempt Dominic had for Clifton's disability would be laid bare.
"Understood, ma'am." The bodyguard gave a firm nod.
"Go handle it." Mrs. Martinez waved a hand, impatient. "And keep it clean."
"Yes, ma'am. Right away."
He took the materials and bowed out of the room.
Silence settled over the parlor again. Mrs. Martinez gazed out at the overcast sky. The gloom she'd been carrying since her daughter lost a hand and was shipped overseas finally loosened its grip, just a little.
Miranda. You ruined my daughter. I'm going to ruin everything you have.
Something occurred to her. She pulled her phone from her Hermès bag and dialed a number from memory.
It rang for a long time before someone picked up. Her daughter Isabella's voice came through, thick with tears.
"Mom..."
"Isabella." Mrs. Martinez's voice turned soft immediately, warm and soothing. "Don't cry. I promise you, Miranda is going to pay for everything. Every bit of pain you've been through, she'll get back tenfold. A hundredfold."
--
The following afternoon, Miranda returned to the Prescott estate from the office.
She had the trade gathering at the Pullman Estate that evening, and Clifton had arranged for a top styling team to come to the house so she could spend the whole afternoon getting ready.
Nearly three hours later, Miranda stepped out of the dressing room, and the space seemed to brighten around her.
She had settled on a cream-colored suit.
The clean, precise tailoring traced the line of her waist perfectly, slender but strong. The cropped trousers showed a stretch of smooth, pale ankle above a pair of silver stilettos. Sharp and stunning all at once.
Her makeup was light and fresh, with emphasis only on the eyeliner and a bold red lip. Beautiful without being soft, and soft without losing that edge that made people take her seriously.
The door to the adjoining room creaked open.
Clifton wheeled himself in, dressed in a suit that matched her color palette.
The moment his gaze landed on her, something ignited in the depths of his eyes.
He looked at her slowly. Her brows, her red lips, the line of her throat, the curve of her collarbone. His gaze finally came to rest on her eyes, bright and full of quiet confidence.
Having a man stare at her like that, with that kind of open, undisguised intensity, was enough to make even Miranda's cheeks warm slightly.
She glanced at her reflection self-consciously and asked, not quite sure of herself, "What? Is something off?"
Clifton wheeled closer and stopped beside her, looking up at her. His throat moved.
He shook his head. His voice came out lower and rougher than usual.
"No. You look beautiful."
He held her gaze and added, with complete seriousness, "So beautiful I want to hide you away and keep you all to myself."
He meant every word.
Miranda had always been striking. The kind of beauty that filled a room and commanded attention.
But right now, beyond the way she looked, what pulled at him was the confidence radiating off her, the vitality that seemed to pour from somewhere deep inside her.
Like a rose blooming full and wild under a blazing sun. Thorns and all. Breathtaking in a way that felt almost dangerous to him.
Miranda's heart skipped.
No one minds being told they're beautiful, especially when the words come from someone they care about, delivered in a voice like that.
She couldn't keep her smile from spreading. It lit up her whole face.
"Thank you."
Her mind caught up a beat later. She bent forward, hands on her knees, bringing herself level with him in his chair.
Looking at that impossibly handsome face, she fired right back without thinking.
"You look incredibly good tonight too. Good enough that I want to stay in the bedroom with you all night and skip the whole thing."
For a man who was the fantasy of every socialite in the city, hearing that kind of bold, direct invitation from her sent something warm flooding into his eyes. The hard set of his mouth curved into a slow, devastating smile.
That smile. It outshone every color in the sunset beyond the window.
Miranda stared for a moment too long.
By the time she came back to herself, she felt a firm grip close around her waist. A strong pull dragged her forward before she could catch herself, and she tumbled straight into his lap.
She let out a startled sound and immediately tried to stand up, but a large, warm hand pressed firmly against her waist and held her in place.
"Clifton!"
He ignored her protest entirely. His other hand came up, his thumb tracing slowly along her cheek, the want rising in his eyes completely unguarded, like he intended to consume her whole.
Miranda recognized the danger and spoke quickly. "Stop. My makeup is done and we're about to leave!"
Clifton's eyes narrowed. He leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear, his voice low enough to make her dizzy.
"You started it."
The words landed, and Miranda instantly replayed what she'd just said to him.
Okay, yes. That had been a little suggestive.
But she was joking! Obviously joking! He was smart enough to know that!
He was doing this on purpose.
Miranda glared at him, equal parts annoyed and flustered.
That one look, eyes shimmering with irritation and a flush of embarrassment, nearly undid him on the spot.
The darkness in his eyes deepened. He leaned in until their noses were almost touching.
"Mrs. Prescott," he said quietly, each word landing with deliberate weight, "I'll let you go for now. But how are you planning to make it up to me later?"
Miranda was trapped in the circle of his arms, surrounded by his clean, masculine scent. She pressed both hands against his chest and pushed. He didn't budge.
She gave in and swallowed, her voice coming out softer than she intended. "When we get back from the gathering... I'll do whatever you want?"
That answer clearly satisfied him.
Clifton lowered his head and kissed her, slow and thorough, leaving no room for argument.
He only pulled back when she was nearly out of breath, pressing his forehead to hers, his voice quiet and rough.
"You said it. No taking it back."
"I never take things back!" Miranda's head was still spinning, but she pushed him away anyway and stood up from his lap. She turned to the vanity mirror, took one look at her smudged lip line, and groaned.
"No more kissing! You smeared my lipstick!"
She picked up her lip gloss and touched up her makeup, pointedly ignoring the man behind her who was looking extremely pleased with himself.