She could imagine how tornted Miranda Lewis had been these past few days.
It’s likely that Baron Lawrence provoked her yesterday; otherwise, Miranda wouldn’t have been driven to such desperation to co up with this childish tactic.
"What do you an? Stop pretending! These photos are real; I took them. How dare you say my photos are digitally altered? What’s your proof?" Miranda was stung by her words, left embarrassed and frantic, and retorted fiercely.
It seed like yelling was the only way she could avoid losing face in front of Enna Clark.
Her voice was so loud that it startled Scott Harris outside the door.
Scott rushed in imdiately, "Young Madam!"
"I’m fine."
After confirming that Enna was unhard, he breathed a sigh of relief and gave Miranda a warning glare.
Enna tossed another set of photos on the table, "Because of this!"
"What is this?" Miranda asked as she picked up the photos from the table. After seeing what was in the pictures, her expression changed drastically. She suddenly raised her head, demanding, "How did you get this?"
"Were you the one who reported to President Lawrence yesterday?"
"Enna Clark, do you have no sha?"
Furious and anxious, she blurted out the insult.
Scott’s face darkened as he sternly rebuked, "Ms. Lewis, mind your language!"
"But she..." Miranda was so angry she wanted to argue back. But when she t Scott’s stern expression, she was intimidated, and the words caught in her throat.
She feared everyone except for Enna, relying on their distant familial connection not to be afraid of her.
Enna finally saw what kind of person she was. Just like her mother, she relied on that connection to feel justified in exploiting her.
Enna picked up a photo, looking at it as she spoke indifferently, "You claim that the bed photos of Baron Lawrence in your possession are real, so why did you hire the paparazzi to take these photos?"
"You could have just taken these photos directly to the paparazzi for exposure. It would create a bigger sensation, benefiting you more. The Old Master might even acknowledge your existence. Didn’t you say you’re carrying Baron Lawrence’s child? With the mother distinguished by the prominence of her son, maybe the Old Master would even provide you with a special place to stay and have soone take care of you."
Scott had been outside earlier, and the Presidential Suite had excellent soundproofing, so he barely heard what was said inside. If it wasn’t for Miranda’s uncontrolled shouting, he might not have stord in.
Now hearing Enna talk about the photos and the child, at first, he was confused about what she ant. Then he glanced down and saw the photos scattered on the floor. Instantly, his expression changed, and he looked at Miranda with an eyes-full of loathing, as if he wished he could shoot her. His gaze was so sharp it seed like it could strangle her.
Miranda felt incredibly guilty being watched by Scott, her neck instinctively shrinking back, secretly resenting that Enna had gotten smarter. She hurriedly tried to justify herself, "I just hadn’t thought it through..."
"You thought enough to prepare the doctor’s certificate to show , but you didn’t think of this? Miranda, what do you take for, a kindergarten child? If you said the clouds in the sky are black, would I believe the clouds are black? You overestimate yourself." She enunciated each word, "I never believed you from the very beginning. I ca here just to see how shaless you could be. You’ve successfully broadened my understanding."
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