Chapter 93

Miranda’s POV

Revenge, they say, is a dish best served cold. But I prefer it hot, simmering with fury, garnished with calculated moves. My ex-husband and my cousin? Oh, their time is coming, but I am not one to rush perfection. Every move I make, every step I take, leads me closer to their downfall. For now, there’s work to be done.

I parked my sleek, obsidian-black Rolls-Royce Phantom at the company gates. The guard, upon recognizing me, scrambled to open the doors. I stepped out, the bright morning sun bouncing off my scarlet Tom Ford suit. My blonde hair, meticulously styled into soft waves, cascaded down my shoulders. A $250,000 Chanel bag dangled effortlessly on my arm, a symbol of my power and success.

The confident click of my red-soled Louboutin heels echoed against the polished marble floor as I entered the building. Employees paused mid-task, bowing their heads in respect. “Good morning, ma’am,” they chorused. I offered them a faint smile, my signa