93
Miranda/Laila's POV
Revenge is a dish best served cold, and I’ve always enjoyed serving it frozen. The thrill of reclaiming everything that was stolen from me and watching my enemies squirm under my heel was a high I could never describe. Today was no different. The moment Mara’s guard dragged her away like a thief, I couldn’t help but savor every expression on her face—shock, fear, humiliation. She deserved every second of it.
Settling into the plush sofa in the grand sitting room, I gestured for the maids to bring me a glass of wine. They scurried off without a word, their heads bowed, their movements brisk. It pleased me to see them like this. Once upon a time, I was the one bowing, shrinking in corners, too afraid to speak. Those days were over.
When the maid returned, placing the tray with a glass of red wine and a plate of roasted chicken before me, I didn’t even acknowledge her. Instead, I took a slow sip, letting the rich flavor of the wine coat my tongue as I leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. I was just about to enjoy my meal when I heard the hurried sound of footsteps descending the stairs.
“Laila!” My stepmother’s shrill voice pierced the air. I didn’t even flinch. She stormed into the room, her face flushed with anger. “What is the meaning of this nonsense?”
I didn’t bother to look at her. Instead, I took a small bite of the chicken, chewing slowly, savoring the taste.
“Are you deaf?!” she screamed, moving closer. “I heard you fired all the housekeepers assigned to Mara. What are you playing at?”
I finally turned to her, my face calm but my eyes cold as ice. “I don’t play, stepmother.”
She blinked, startled by my tone. “Why would you lock up Mara? Have you completely lost your mind?”
I set the wine glass down and stood up, towering over her. “Why shouldn’t I? After all, your precious daughter tried to kill me. If anything, I’ve been far too lenient.”
Her face paled, but she quickly recovered, her lips curling into a forced smile. “Laila, my dear, there must be some misunderstanding. Mara wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
I laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “Misunderstanding? Is that what you’re calling it now?” I took a step closer, and she instinctively stepped back. “Your daughter left me for dead in the woods, but I survived. Do you know why? Because I’m not as weak as you all think I am.”
“Even if—” she started but stopped herself. Her hesitation said it all.
“Even if she did it, right?” I finished for her. “You were about to say that even if she tried to kill me, I should let it go because she’s family. Isn’t that right, stepmother?”
Her eyes darted away, confirming my suspicions.
I continued, my voice low and menacing. “Let me remind you of something. Mara is not my sister. She is the illegitimate child you brought into my father’s house. The only reason she’s still breathing is because I’ve allowed it.”
“That’s not true,” she protested weakly. “You share the same blood—”
I cut her off with a scoff. “The only thing we share is the same last name, and even that is an insult to my father’s memory. Don’t test my patience, stepmother.”
Her face twisted with desperation. “We’re family, Laila. You don’t have to go this far. Revenge isn’t the answer.”
I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Revenge is the only answer. Did you tell Mara that when she plotted against me? Did you remind her that we were family before she decided to leave me to die?”
Her silence was deafening. I took another step closer, watching as she wrung her hands nervously. For the first time, she looked truly afraid.
“Listen to me carefully,” I said, my voice cold and steady. “I’m willing to release Mara, but there’s a condition.”
Her face lit up with hope. “What is it? Tell me, and I’ll do it.”
“It’s simple,” I said, my smile widening. “Have Mara jump off a cliff into the ocean. If she survives, I’ll let her go.”
Her eyes widened in horror. “You can’t be serious! She’ll die!”
I tilted my head, feigning innocence. “Oh? Is that too much for you? Then maybe you’re not as eager to save her as you claim to be.”
“You’re a monster!” she spat, her voice trembling with rage.
I laughed, the sound echoing through the room. “Am I? Or am I simply giving her a taste of her own medicine?”
“She’s your sister!” she shouted, desperation creeping into her voice. “How can you do this to her?”
I leaned in close, lowering my voice to a whisper. “She’s not my sister. And even if she were, a real sister wouldn’t have tried to kill me.”
Her hands trembled as she clutched at her dress, her face pale and drawn. “This is imprisonment, Laila. It’s illegal! You’ll regret this.”
I straightened up, crossing my arms over my chest. “Ah, so now you want to talk about the law? Did you remind Mara about the law when she tried to murder me? Or did you conveniently forget that part?”
“She didn’t succeed!” she yelled, her voice breaking. “You’re still alive, Laila. There’s no evidence against her!”
I raised an eyebrow, taking a slow step back. “No evidence? How sure are you about that?” Her eyes darted around nervously, and I knew I had her exactly where I wanted.
“Even if I don’t have evidence,” I continued, “do you know what’s funny? Attempted murder is still a crime, even if the victim survives. And if I decide to press charges, your precious Mara won’t just be locked in a room. She’ll rot in prison.”
Her breathing quickened, and she clutched at her chest as if trying to steady herself. “You wouldn’t…”
“Wouldn’t I?” I challenged, my voice rising. “Try me, stepmother. I’ve had enough of your lies and your schemes. You and Mara think you can steal everything from me and walk away unscathed? Not this time.”
Tears welled up in her eyes, but I felt no pity. She and Mara had taken everything from me—my father’s love, my inheritance, my dignity. Now it was my turn to take everything from them.
“Please,” she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. “Let her go. I’ll do anything.”
I smirked, satisfied with her desperation. “Then tell Mara to jump. Until then, she stays exactly where she is.”
This was only the beginning.