Miranda couldn’t sleep well that night, plagued by thoughts of the custody battle.
In her half-dreaming state, she saw her mother, Elizabeth, slowly walking toward her. In the dream, Miranda was just a little girl again. Elizabeth pulled her into a warm embrace, whispering softly, “You’ve been through so much.”
Little Miranda opened her mouth, ready to tell her mother how much she missed her, but before she could speak, the shrill sound of her alarm clock shattered the dream and dragged her back to reality.
Lying in bed, Miranda steadied her breath and remembered-it was the day of the auction.
Thinking back to the dream, Miranda took it as a sign from her mother, a reassurance that she would succeed in acquiring Versailles Twilight.
She got out of bed and walked to her vanity, studying her reflection in the mirror.
The woman staring back at her looked healthier than she had in recent months, though there was still a trace of fatigue in her eyes.
Determined to present her best self to her mother’s painting, Miranda decided to call the styling studio she’d visited before.
The studio owner, Kate, answered the phone with a cheerful tone. “Darling, we don’t have any clients right now. Come on over-we’ll take care of you.”
Miranda stepped into her walk-in closet, pondering what to wear. Since she’d be getting styled later, she opted for a simple, casual outfit, grabbed her car keys, and headed out the door.
Half an hour later, Miranda’s car pulled up outside the studio. Kate was already there, greeting her with a warm hug.
“What look are we going for today?” Kate asked.
Miranda thought for a moment. “Bold and regal. I want to look like a queen.”
Kate grinned. “Consider it done!”
Inside the studio, Kate pulled out a chair for Miranda to sit on. Naomi, her assistant, brought over a cup of coffee and handed Kate fabric swatches of various colors. Kate held the swatches up to Miranda’s face, comparing them to her skin tone to find the perfect match.
“How about red?” Kate suggested.
Miranda nodded. “I like it.”
“Wait here,” Kate said, disappearing into the racks of dresses.
As Miranda sipped her coffee, feeling relaxed and content, a sharp, haughty voice suddenly echoed through the studio.
“Kate! Where are you?”
Miranda’s good mood evaporated. She frowned and looked toward the door.
A woman in her fifties strode in, dressed in a camel-colored cashmere coat, oversized sunglasses perched on her nose, and an Hermes crocodile handbag dangling from her arm. Her entire demeanor screamed wealth and entitlement.
Kate quickly set down the dress she was holding and rushed over, smiling nervously.
“Madame Clemande, we’re currently working with another client. You may need to wait a little while.”
Clemande removed her sunglasses and cast a disdainful glance in Miranda’s direction. Taking in her modest outfit, she let out a derisive snort.
“Kate, do you let just anyone walk in here now? Have you no standards?”
Caught between appeasing her VIP client and avoiding a scene, Kate turned to Naomi and barked, “Why are you just standing there? Go get Madame Clemande a coffee! Two sugar cubes!”
Clemande, however, was not interested in coffee. She pulled a thick wad of cash out of her purse, waving it dismissively.
“I’ll pay three times the price. Have her give up her spot.”
Kate hesitated, trying her best to stay calm. “Madame Clemande, the lady has only booked a styling session. It’ll take less than half an hour, and then it will be your turn. I promise.”
Clemande ignored her, focusing her icy glare on Miranda instead.
“You know who I am, don’t you?” she sneered. “I suggest you step aside. Unless you’re looking for trouble.”
Miranda didn’t even glance at her. She calmly set her coffee cup down and turned to Kate.
“I’ve changed my mind,” she said.
Both Kate and Clemande froze, confused by her sudden declaration.
Her tone unhurried, Miranda continued, “I was only planning to get my styling done. But since this elderly woman seems to be in such a rush-”
She paused deliberately, a faint smile playing on her lips.
“Kate, I’d like to try every service your studio offers.”
Clemande’s face turned crimson.
“How dare you?” she exploded.
She spun on Kate, her voice rising to an ear-splitting pitch.
“Kate! Are you going to let her insult me like this? I’m your VIP client!”
Kate was sweating now, caught in the crossfire. Forcing a strained smile, she tried to placate her.
“Madame Clemande, please calm down. We can schedule a complimentary session for you at another time-”
“Another time?!” Clemande shrieked. “Do you have any idea how valuable my time is? How dare you make me wait?”
Miranda, unfazed, stirred her coffee leisurely with a spoon.
“Kate,” she said lightly, “why don’t we start with the skincare treatments? I hear your gold face masks are famous.”
Clemande’s face turned from red to pale. Trembling with rage, she yanked out her phone and hissed, “Fine. Just fine! I’ll call my lawyer right now!”
“Madame Clemande, please-” Kate began, her voice desperate.
“Save it!” Clemande snapped. “You think I care about a free service? I demand respect!”
Miranda finally looked up, her gaze steady and unflinching.
“Madame Clemande,” she said, her voice cool and cutting, “perhaps you should learn to respect others first.”
Clemande’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Speechless, she grabbed her bag and stormed out of the studio, her heels clicking furiously against the floor.
The room fell silent. Kate exhaled deeply, her face still tight with worry.
Turning to Miranda, she forced a smile.
“I’m so sorry you had to experience that, Ms. Miranda…”
Miranda smiled back, her tone light and relaxed.
“No need to apologize, Kate. Some people just need a reminder that the world doesn’t revolve around them.”
Outside, Clemande stood fuming, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. After a moment, she dialed a number.
Eric picked up almost immediately.
“Mom? What’s wrong?”
“Eric, I just had the worst day of my life,” she snapped. “You won’t believe the nerve of some people!”
She launched into a dramatic retelling of the incident, her voice dripping with indignation.
“Can you imagine? Someone like her thinking she can challenge me?”
Eric, who was driving, listened patiently.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll buy the studio for you. Then you can go whenever you want.”
Clemande sighed, her son’s comforting words soothing her anger.
“By the way,” she said, suddenly remembering, “didn’t you say you’re dating someone? What’s she like?”
Eric couldn’t help but smile. “She’s amazing. I’m sure you’ll love her.”
“Send me a picture!” Clemande urged.
Eric chuckled. “Be patient. You’ll meet her at the family dinner. I’ll bring her with me.”
He glanced at the street ahead.
“I have to go now-I’m on my way to pick her up.”