Chapter 32
Marion finally got up and left.
Once he was gone, Dorian took his seat, exuding an air of superiority that seemed to come naturally to him after years of staying as a higher–up. Even his casual wave towards Miranda felt condescending.
“Enjoying your life out here as a disgraceful woman, rather than coming back to the Hawke family?”
On closer inspection, he bore a vague resemblance to Miranda.
Miranda smirked, “Yeah, because being your family’s doormat back at the Hawke estate would be such a thrill. Your mouth’s as filthy as your precious sister’s, no surprise there, given you all probably grew up with your heads in the dirt.”
Dorian’s face, usually composed and cold, turned visibly darker, his lips pressed into a tight line.
“Miranda, don’t forget, I’m your own brother! Watch your language!”
Miranda chuckled genuinely, “I’m an orphan, buddy. My family records are as good as dead. So, who do you think you are?”
Dorian was taken aback by Miranda’s transformation. Although he’d heard from a few of their younger siblings about her newfound defiance and sharp tongue, experiencing it firsthand was something else entirely.
“What happened to you these past couple of years? You were supposed to come out of that place reformed, not more defiant!” Dorian admonished sternly.
Miranda leaned back lazily in her chair, swirling her coffee with a nonchalant air.
“Why don’t you ask your lovely family why I’ve changed? Wasn’t it your fault? Was I supposed to learn not to take the fall for someone else? Was trusting you all my mistake? Dorian, think before you speak, or I’ll assume your family has a genetic predisposition for shrinking brains.”
With each biting word from Miranda, Dorian’s bravado seemed to deflate a little more.
“Let’s not dwell on the past,” he conceded, clearly wanting to avoid rehashing old grievances. After all, the Hawke family had indeed wronged her.
Miranda’s lips curled up. “Dorian, did you all sleep well these past two years after letting your own sister take the blame for your precious adopted one?”
Dorian took a deep breath. “Bella’s innocent, and she has a promising future that shouldn’t be ruined. We planned to make it up to you once you were back, but you chose to rebel and oppose Bella at every turn. I came here today to have a proper talk with you,” he finally revealed his true intention.
Miranda’s expression turned icy, remaining silent, curious to hear what Dorian had in mind.
“Leave that man, return to the Hawke family, and apologize to Bella for your recent actions. I’ll overlook the past. Whatever you want to do, we’ll try to support you. But you can’t be in conflict with Bella.”
Dorian added, “This isn’t favoritism. Bella’s been with us for years, working hard. Our parents have high hopes for her, so you can’t jeopardize her future. If you persist in this behavior, opposing her and us, don’t blame me for cutting you off.”
Dorian had jumped to the conclusion that Miranda was being supported financially by someone, which explained her polished appearance. Just as what Bella said, how else could a young woman fresh out of prison afford such attire without connections in the upper echelons of society?
Miranda’s brows furrowed as she listened, barely containing her irritation. She interrupted Dorian mid–sentence, “Do you think I’m some kind of lowlife? Is acting like a jerk a family tradition for you guys?”
