"What are you afraid of?" Andrew lowered his gaze, looking at Miranda.
Her long chestnut hair flowed behind her. Her fair skin appeared flawless in the light, and her delicate features were strikingly beautiful. The mole at the corner of her eye added a touch of her charm.
Andrew had seen many beautiful women, but Miranda's beauty was shockingly extraordinary, leaving him deeply moved.
Andrew lowered his head and touched hers, calming her nerves by saying, "It's just dinner. My family will like you."
Sitting in the passenger seat, Miranda nervously twisted the hem of her dress.
Compared to Andrew, she had nothing.
As they got out of the car, Andrew tossed the keys to the security guard to park and held Miranda's hand as they walked inside.
As they entered through the arched door, soothing music played softly. The spacious reception hall was decorated with dazzling flowers and bright lights.
The hall was filled with distinguished guests, men and women holding glasses, chatting and laughing in groups.
On a sofa sat two people.
One was an elderly woman with an extraordinary presence, the other a young man with a handsome, rugged profile holding a glass of wine.
"Grandmother, brother."
At Andrew's voice, the two turned their heads, first looking at Andrew, then scrutinizing Miranda beside him.
Miranda's face turned pale, her eyes showing panic and guilt.
She looked at the man sitting on the single sofa. His chiseled features were striking, his light blue eyes deep and cold, his nose tall, and his lips thin and cool.
The man recognized her as well, his blue eyes indifferent, brows slightly furrowed, revealing nothing of his thoughts.
"Miranda, this is my brother, Lawrence. Get to know each other."
Andrew introduced Miranda to his family, holding her hand.
This man was her boyfriend Andrew's brother, Lawrence Dawson...
Andrew noticed Miranda's palm was sweating. Thinking she was too nervous to speak, he gently reminded her, "Miranda?"
Miranda collected herself, calming her nerves.
She smiled gently and appropriately, greeting Laura. Laura, elegant and noble, smiled and nodded at Miranda.
Miranda turned her gaze to Lawrence.
Lawrence met Miranda's eyes with a sharp gaze, like a lion stalking its prey.
Suddenly, he stood up from the single sofa, approaching Miranda step by step.
Miranda swallowed nervously, steadying herself, and extended her hand. "Mr. Dawson, nice to meet you."
Lawrence sneered, his blue eyes fierce, exuding the aura of a superior, and his presence was overwhelming.
"Not just anyone gets a hand-kiss from me."
Miranda's face turned pale again, her hand trembled in mid-air before she awkwardly withdrew it.
Andrew, displeased, shielded Miranda and said, "Lawrence, Miranda is my girlfriend. How could you..."
"Mr. Lawrence!" The butler hurried in from outside, reporting, "Miss Dorsey has arrived and brought a gift for Lady Laura, but it's a bit large. She said Mr. Andrew needs to help with it."
Lawrence nodded, looking at Andrew. "Then, you should go help."
Andrew glanced at Miranda, reluctant to leave her alone in a strange banquet hall, "I can't bear to leave Miranda alone."
Lawrence studied Miranda expressionlessly. Miranda lifted her gaze, meeting his eyes again.
Her eyes always seemed to be watery.
At first glance, Lawrence recognized her. Miranda was the woman from that night at the bar. Their sex had been intense and passionate. She had cried and pleaded countless times under him, her eyes always wet, endearing, and hard to resist.
"Don't worry, I'll take good care of Miss Larson."
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