Chapter 2196

The Rainsworth household had never truly fractured. With Robert frequently away and his wife long gone, Elena oversaw every moving part of the old estate. Servants, drivers, even the gardeners took their cues from her quiet nod.

So when Miranda realized she would be riding second, anger simmered—hot and silent—behind her polite façade.

She forced a laugh that sounded unmistakably brittle. “Aunt Elena does play favorites, doesn’t she? Felix and I are family too. Surely one of the other cars could take us first.”

The chauffeur dipped his head. “All other drivers are already assigned this morning. I’m the only one on shift. Madam Elena’s instructions were clear: Jon and Elliot first, then I return for you and Mr. Felix—no disrespect intended, ma’am.”

Miranda’s expression tightened. She was seething, but she couldn’t afford a scene with the driver. “Fine. Then hurry, or Felix might be late.”

Cecilia stood a good ten paces away, her sons flanking her like solemn little sentries, quietly observing Miranda’s performance.

She knew her own driver would arrive any moment, more than capable of taking Elliot and Jonathan to school.

Even so, she had no intention of surrendering the family car to Miranda’s sense of entitlement.

“Mommy, bye!”

Elliot and Jonathan scrambled into the back seat, turned, and waved with both hands until the door clicked shut and the sedan glided away.

Cecilia followed the retreating taillights, then turned to Miranda. “Doesn’t your father keep a private car? You could call him for a ride.”

“Dad left for the office ages ago,” Miranda muttered. “Even if I call, his driver won’t get here anytime soon.”

She added under her breath, “If I’d known Aunt Elena played favorites, I would’ve hired my own driver instead of fighting over one car.”

Cecilia was about to respond when Elena’s voice cut through the courtyard.

“Miranda, remember what you just said. This household has relied on my private funds for far too long. Supporting two branches drains more than any family should be expected to give. Tell your father we’re splitting the accounts.”

When Niel was alive, he had forbidden Wren and Robert from dividing the finances. Though the patriarch openly favored Robert, he placed Elena in charge of daily affairs, insisting she treat both families equally—while the money itself still came from her pocket.

She had once brushed off the cost. Small sums had never troubled her.

But times had changed, and Elena no longer intended to bankroll anyone else’s comfort.

Miranda’s entitlement—and that sarcastic remark—had been the final straw.

After more than ten years under this roof, Miranda should have known exactly who paid every bill.

“Split the accounts?” Miranda blurted, eyes wide. “Aunt Elena, I was only joking.”

Elena’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I never joke about money.”

Color crept up Miranda’s neck, embarrassment burning hotter by the second.

“The expenses here are enormous,” Elena continued. “I’m divorced from your uncle. It’s unreasonable for me to keep supporting the Rainsworth side. Cecilia is my daughter-in-law. Elliot and Jonathan are my grandsons. Spending on them is natural. You and Felix, however, share no blood with me. Geoff drove today as a courtesy. Next time, hire your own driver.”

Miranda’s face burned; even the courtyard breeze couldn’t cool it.

She wasn’t foolish. Maintaining the west-wing residence alone cost over ten million a year.

Add in staff salaries, groceries, and countless incidentals, and the total quickly climbed beyond easy calculation.