Transmigrated Into The True Heiress-Chapter 139: Remotely Admirable

{So sorry, I’m very busy and couldn’t meet the word count so I had to add a little from the previous Chapter! It will be edited soon and you can come back and read it.}

____

Gloria took a deep, shaky breath, her hands curling into fists. "Then what do we do, Eric? How do we salvage this? Because if Adam thinks he’s going to let those two off the hook while the rest of us suffer, he’s sorely mistaken."

Eric’s expression darkened. "First, we secure our assets. Talk to the lawyers, the accountants—anyone who can help shield us from the fallout. Second, we need to distance ourselves from Alan and Leandra publicly. If the board starts sniffing around for scapegoats, we can’t afford to look complicit."

Gloria nodded, her rage tempered by cold calculation. "Fine. But I want Adam to hear from *me* that his little golden children aren’t untouchable anymore."

Eric’s lips curled into a thin smile. "Don’t worry, Gloria. By the time this is over, Father will have no choice but to reconsider the family hierarchy."

Gloria returned his smile, her anger tempered by cold resolve. "Good. Because I won’t let that spoiled little bastard and his scheming fiancée ruin everything we’ve worked for. If Adam Latham thinks he can keep playing favorites, he’s got another thing coming."

___

In the opulent yet antiquated mansion of Adam Latham, chaos erupted like a storm. Staff scurried about, their faces pale with tension, as yells reverberated through the grand living room on the lower floor.

"Call Leandra for me! Call her now!" bellowed Adam Latham, his booming voice accompanied by the sharp thud of his walking stick striking the marble floor. The patriarch’s face was flushed with anger, his grey hair disheveled, and the wrinkles across his face deepened by fury.

The butler at his side gave a quick, nervous bow. "Right away, Sir Adam." He reached for the wireless telephone on a nearby table, his hands trembling slightly as he dialed.

The call was answered almost immediately. The butler, relieved but tense, handed the phone to Adam with both hands.

Adam snatched it from him, placing it to his ear just as the voice on the other end began, "Good morning, Father—"

"Good morning?!" Adam roared, cutting off Leandra mid-sentence. "How dare you greet me with good morning? What is good about this morning, Leandra? Everything—everything—is being ruined because of your son, and here you are wishing me a pleasant day? Don’t you dare call me Father again! I am not your father!"

There was a brief pause on the line, the silence hanging heavy between them, before Leandra’s voice returned, steady but tinged with quiet restraint. "Father, I understand you’re upset, but please—yelling like this will only worsen your health."

"Don’t patronize me with that nonsense!" Adam thundered, his voice echoing through the cavernous room. "Do you think I care about my health right now? You dare to lecture me after the disgrace your son has brought upon this family? I should have known—like father, like son! A bastard producing another bastard! I should never have allowed you or your child into this family in the first place!"

Leandra remained silent, but the tension in the air was palpable, even over the phone. Adam’s fury only intensified at her lack of response.

"Don’t you dare ignore me!" he roared, his walking stick striking the floor again. "Have you seen it? Have you seen the shame your son has dragged us into? His vile acts, plastered across the internet for the world to see! And those words he spoke—heartless, reckless! People are turning against us, and our name, our legacy, is being dragged through the mud because of him!"

Adam’s breathing grew heavier, his voice growing more venomous with each word. "Do you know what it feels like to have everything you’ve built for generations crumble overnight? The reputation of our family—my family—destroyed! And why? Because of *your* son! If you had been a proper mother, if you had done your duty and raised him right instead of gallivanting off to business meetings, playing at being a man, maybe—*maybe*—he wouldn’t have turned out like this!" freёwebnoѵel.com

His words hit like lashes, each syllable sharpened by his rage. "This is your fault, Leandra! All of it! Your failure as a mother is why this has happened! And you dare stand there, silent, without so much as a word of explanation?"

The old man’s voice was raw, his breaths ragged as he waited for a response. When none came, he gritted his teeth, his grip tightening on the phone. "Speak! Do you have *nothing* to say for yourself? Don’t you have any explanation to give to me?! Or are you just as shameless as that son of yours? Answer me!"

"Explanation? What explanation does Father expect me to give?" Leandra’s voice, though calm, dripped with scorn. "You’ve already made up your mind, haven’t you? You’ve blamed me, judged me, and pronounced me guilty without so much as a pause to reflect. What else is there to say? That you’re right? That it’s my fault for not ’training’ my son properly, for letting him become, as you say, worse than his bastard father? Fine. If that’s what you want to hear, Father, then yes— *you’re right.* But let me remind you of a few things before you sit back on your throne of self-righteousness."

Her voice grew sharper, each word cutting like glass. "I was busy. Busy cleaning up the *disaster* your precious children left behind. While you sat in your study, spouting your wisdom and clutching your walking stick like it was a crown, I was the one holding this family together. I was the one saving Latham Industries from ruin, restoring it to the glory you now take so much pride in. I worked day and night, sacrificing everything—including time with my children—just to ensure this family didn’t crumble under its own incompetence."

She scoffed bitterly, the sound hollow. "Did anyone ever step up to help? Did any of your children—those so-called heirs to the Latham legacy—ever lift a finger to contribute? Did any of them even bother to thank me for the life of comfort and luxury they enjoy? Of course not. To them, I was just the outsider. The woman who stole their father’s attention and power. And you—oh, you were no better. You were too busy *elevating the Latham name,* weren’t you? As if there was anything remotely admirable about that name to begin with."

"How dare you—" Adam began, but Leandra cut him off, her voice rising with fury.

"No, *how dare you,* Father? Let’s talk about your precious legacy. A drunkard of a son who ran off with his mistress, abandoning his family and responsibilities. An ambitious second son who’s so incompetent he couldn’t run a lemonade stand, let alone a business. And let’s not forget your darling youngest daughter, whose greatest achievement is burning through her allowance on shopping sprees, parties, and weekly spa sessions. Tell me, Father, what exactly was so noble about the Latham name before I stepped in and saved it?"

Adam’s face turned red with fury, his hand trembling as he clutched the phone tighter. "You ungrateful—"

"Ungrateful?" Leandra laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "Do you even hear yourself? After everything I’ve done, after sacrificing my health, my time, and my family for *your* empire, the only thing you can do is throw blame at me when things go wrong. You want to talk about ungrateful? Look in the mirror, Father. Look at your children. Look at the mess you created and then handed to me to fix."

"Enough!" Adam bellowed, his voice cracking. "How dare you speak about this family like that? My family is *your* family, and you will respect it!"

"Respect?" Leandra’s voice dripped with mockery. "The same respect you showed me when you dismissed my efforts, belittled my sacrifices, and placed the blame for every failure on my shoulders? No, Father. Respect is earned, not demanded, and you haven’t earned mine in a very long time."

Adam’s hand shook as he struggled to maintain his composure. "You’ve grown bold, Leandra. Too bold for your own good. Mark my words, you and your disgrace of a son will pay for this humiliation!"

Leandra’s voice hardened, every word a deliberate strike. "No, Father. You’re the one who will pay. You’ve spent your entire life building an empire with no foundation. It’s crumbling now, and instead of fixing it, you’re looking for someone to blame. But this time, I won’t be your scapegoat. Alan made his mistakes, and he’ll face the consequences, but don’t you dare pin this entire mess on me. I’ve carried this family long enough."

With that, she hung up, the line going dead before Adam could unleash another tirade. He stared at the phone in disbelief, his fury boiling over. He threw it across the room, the device shattering against the wall as the staff flinched.

"Get out!" he roared at the nearest maid, who scurried out of the room in terror. "Get out, all of you! Leave me!"

As the room emptied, Adam sank into his chair, his cane trembling in his grasp. His chest heaved with labored breaths, and for the first t

ime, the weight of his crumbling empire pressed down on him.