The onlookers pretended to mingle, but their eyes kept darting towards the unfolding drama. This was the real-life version of the switched-at-birth soap opera, and who wouldn''t want to witness the spectacle? "I''ve seen this episode before. In the book I readst night, the fake heiress starts her ''poor me'' act right about now."


    "Books don''t lie. The fake heiress always tries to cling to her foster parents, disparaging the real one with her pathetic antics."


    The two celebrity friends in Showbiz chatted conspiratorially, all while maintaining their morous smiles for the nearby photographers.


    "Last time we were at an event together, she pulled the same stunt with me."


    "Well, karma''s a real thing, isn''t it?"


    Arabe''s words made Miranda''s eyebrows knit together slightly.


    "What are you, a green tea bitch?"


    Biting her lip, Arabe gazed at Miranda, looking wounded.


    Miranda''s voice turned icy. "Have you ever suffered? Slept in a barn? Almost sold off by your foster parents? Ever had your leg broken for the smallest mistake? Or been abandoned by your real family?" Arabe''s face fell, her eyes betraying her guilt.


    "You''ve never been through anything, yet here you are, acting all freaking bitchy," Miranda cussed out coldly. "Who do you think you are, pulling stunts in front of the one you''ve snatched everything from? Oh, right, your parents who preferred their son than the daughter must have given you that nerve." Miranda suddenly recalled something. "You did the stic surgery, didn''t you? It''s so fake I feel it repulsive."


    Mentioning the stic surgery was like pressing Arabe''s sore spot; her anger red, visible even in her eyes. But given the situation, she had to suppress it.


    "I was just stating facts. Why are you so harsh? Just because I was the Hawke family''s daughter for twenty years? Is that my fault?" Arabe tried to y the victim card.


    Miranda smirked. "And what else?"


    She didn''t need to argue with someone like Arabe. She didn''t need logic to prove she was in the right. Arabe found herself at a loss for words.


    "It''s not right. How can you think like that?" she attempted weakly to defend herself.


    Mirandaughed as if she''d heard the funniest joke. "Oh, you know what''s right? Then why don''t you leave the Hawke family and go to your reat parents? After all, you''ve ganged up and been scheming behind my back, haven''t you?"


    Arabe quickly denied, "I didn''t! I would never do that."


    Miranda challenged, "I don''t believe you. Show me your chat logs." Arabe fell silent.


    Miranda''s lips curled into a smirk at the sight of Arabe''s hardening face. "Or should I ask the police for the evidence of you sending your biological parents to cause trouble at the Lancaster Group


    headquarters?"


    Finally, Arabe was silenced, unable to risk saying more. The shing cameras and lenses around her discouraged her from making any rash moves.


    She hade to this event hoping


    to win sympathy and clear her name. But the more she engaged with Miranda, the deeper she dug her own grave. She couldn''t afford to make further conversation


    Miranda''s cold smile returned. "If you know what''s good for you, keep quiet. Don''t make me p you."


    The onlookers had only seen Miranda''s fiery temper on live streams, with some even suspecting this was all part of some borate script.