Chapter90 When I Get Jealous, I Don't Discriminate by Age or Gender
Ariana caressed the cool gemstone at her neck, her face beaming as she spoke sweetly.
"I love it. Thank you, Harrison."
Harrison maintained a deliberately shallow smile, but his eyes kept drifting toward the next table, wanting to see Miranda's pained expression.
Instead, she wasn't even looking at him.
She was leaning down, talking to the man beside her, her face showing a genuine, gentle smile he'd never seen before.
The two of them seemed to exist in their own world.
A nameless fire mixed with frustration instantly lodged in Harrison's chest, stuck there uncomfortably.
After leaving the restaurant, Ariana affectionately linked her arm through his. "Harrison, shall we go shopping?"
"No, I have work at the company." Harrison refused without hesitation, pulling his arm free, his tone barely concealing his irritation.
He opened the car door, got in the driver's seat, and drove straight back to the office.
In the vast CEO's office, Harrison irritably loosened his tie, but his mind uncontrollably replayed scene after scene from the restaurant.
Miranda defending that man. The light in her eyes when she looked at him. The oblivious intimacy between them.
The thought that Miranda was having such intimate contact with another man where he couldn't see made Harrison's heart feel stuffed and swollen, almost suffocating.
As if struck by a thought, he suddenly pulled out his phone and found a number he hadn't called in ages.
The call connected quickly. Harrison adjusted his emotions, his voice returning to its usual composure.
"Mr. Lancaster."
Dominic's authoritative voice came through. "Harrison? What made you think to call me?"
"There's something I wanted to mention." Harrison leaned back in his office chair, his tone carrying just the right amount of concern. "I've recently seen Miranda getting quite close to a man. I looked into it. He has no background or connections, just an ordinary cop."
He paused before continuing. "I tried talking to her about it, but she wouldn't listen. She's even spending money on him. I'm worried she's being deceived by some unsavory character. So I thought you should have a word with Miranda when you have time. Make sure she's not being taken advantage of."
After his words, silence filled the line for several seconds.
Then Dominic's angry voice came through. "I understand. Thank you for telling me about this. Ever since Miranda moved out, she's become completely uncontrollable! I'll talk to her."
That evening, Miranda was preparing to rest when she received a call from Dominic.
The moment she answered, his voice was commanding, brooking no refusal.
"Come home right now. We're having dinner together."
Miranda refused without thinking. "No, I have things to do."
Her mother and brother knew about the online incident. She'd finally managed to resolve everything and put their minds at ease.
If she went back now and they saw the wound on her leg, they'd only worry again.
She planned to wait until the wound fully healed before finding time to visit.
Being flatly refused by his daughter, Dominic's pride took a hit. His voice hardened.
"Do you even consider me your father anymore?"
Hearing this, Miranda suddenly laughed coldly.
"Do I consider you my father?" she countered. "Then do you consider me your daughter?"
"The internet was full of attacks on me, everyone cursing me online. Did you call me once? Send me a single message? No! And now when you finally call, you don't ask if I'm hurt or how I'm doing. You just demand I come home for dinner?"
Dominic frowned at her words, interrupting impatiently. "Those things weren't even true. Just baseless gossip. Of course I wouldn't believe them. Enough of this."
He changed topics, finally revealing his true purpose.
"I heard you've been getting close to some man lately. Who is he?"
The last trace of warmth in Miranda's heart turned cold.
She laughed coldly again, her voice dripping with unconcealed mockery.
"So this is the real reason you called today, Father."
Without waiting for a response, she hung up directly.
Listening to the dial tone, Dominic's face turned livid with rage. He slammed his phone onto the desk.
Several minutes later, he picked up the intercom on his desk and made a call.
"Send my assistant to my office."
Meanwhile, in a high-rise office in the city center.
Outside the window, the city lights sparkled brilliantly.
Miranda sat at her desk, focused intently on processing a stack of urgent documents that had just been delivered.
Seven days later.
The wound on Miranda's leg had basically healed, leaving only a faint pink mark barely visible unless you looked closely.
In excellent spirits, she called her mother and arranged to meet for shopping and dinner.
Receiving her daughter's call delighted Arabella.
The online incident had worried her terribly, but her daughter kept saying she was too busy with work.
Now that the storm had passed and her daughter finally had time, she couldn't wait to see her precious girl and make sure she hadn't suffered any grievances.
On her end, Miranda had changed outfits three or four times, examining herself in the mirror with growing dissatisfaction.
"Is this one too plain? Is that one too formal?"
As she fretted in front of the mirror, a tall figure suddenly rose from the single sofa by the bed.
Clifton appeared behind her at some point, his large, burning hand covering hers as she reached for the side zipper, stopping her movement.
Through the mirror, he looked into Miranda's clear, bright eyes, his deep voice tinged with teasing.
"You've changed so many outfits and still aren't satisfied. Taking this pretty seriously, aren't you?"
The man leaned down slightly, his hot breath brushing against Miranda's sensitive neck, sending fine shivers through her.
Miranda's cheeks flushed uncontrollably.
She heard the man's amused voice continue by her ear.
"Keep this up and I'm going to get jealous."
His manner made Miranda's heart race. She stiffened her neck defensively.
"I'm going shopping with my mom. Are you really going to be jealous of my mother?"
Clifton chuckled low, the vibration from his chest transmitting through their pressed bodies, intimate and clear.
He moved even closer, his thin lips almost touching her earlobe, his voice husky with possessive intent.
"When I get jealous, I don't discriminate by age or gender."