Transmigrated Into The True Heiress-Chapter 143: Heiress Turned Avenger

His touch was firm yet uncharacteristically tender, his gaze searching hers with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat.

His hands rose to cup her face, rough palms cradling her cheeks with surprising care. Tilting her face upward, he brushed his thumb across the lone tear that had slipped down her skin, wiping it away as though erasing the evidence of her vulnerability. He hesitated for only a moment before leaning down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. The warmth of his lips contrasted with the cool air between them, grounding her in the moment.

"I’ll be outside," he said quietly, his voice so gentle it felt like a whisper against her soul. Ephyra could only nod, the lump in her throat rendering her incapable of words.

Lyle’s eyes lingered on her, sharp and unwavering, as if committing every detail of her expression to memory. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he stepped back and left, his footsteps fading into the distance.

Ephyra stood frozen, staring at the empty space where he had been moments before. Her mind swirled with a chaos of emotions she couldn’t name, her body still betraying her by trembling faintly. Slowly, she raised her hands to cover her face, letting out a frustrated groan as the weight of everything crashed down on her.

"When did I turn into such a mess?" she muttered bitterly, her voice muffled by her hands. "What the hell is wrong with me? Why can’t I just get a grip?"

...

It took her longer than she cared to admit to collect herself, but when she finally descended the stairs, her exterior was carefully composed, a contrast to the turmoil beneath. She wore a pleated denim skirt with an oversized belt slung low on her hips, paired with a slightly baggy cropped top that bared just enough skin, paired with a pair of Platform boots, their heels echoing softly against the polished floor with each step. Her hair, pulled into a messy bun, framed her face in a way that seemed intentionally careless.

As she reached the bottom step, she paused, straightening her shoulders and inhaling deeply before stepping forward.

When she reached the hallway leading to the grand living room, the sound of Jania’s voice carried toward her, calm but laced with subtle satisfaction.

"The news has spread across the country—and even internationally. Every major social media platform, news channel, blog, and print column is flooded with coverage of last night’s banquet. The fallout is monumental. Latham Laboratories is in chaos, with stock prices plummeting, projects being canceled, and investors pulling out en masse. As for ALC Architectures, it’s only a matter of hours before it becomes nothing more than an empty shell."

"And Leandra Latham?" Lyle’s voice followed, low and indifferent, yet there was an edge of calculation beneath his tone.

Jania’s response was measured, but her words held a quiet sense of satisfaction. "She’s distanced herself entirely. After a falling out with Adam Latham, she hasn’t made a single move to interfere. No attempts to stabilize the company or mitigate the damage. She’s letting it collapse under its own weight."

Ephyra hesitated at the edge of the hallway, listening intently. Every word sharpened the realization of just how deeply last night’s events had unraveled Elliot’s measly company ALC Architectures, and Alan’s future, Latham Laboratories was crumbling, just as she had intended.

Her hands instinctively brushed the fabric of her skirt, grounding herself before stepping forward. As her boots clicked softly against the marble floor, both Jania and Lyle turned toward her.

Lyle’s gaze settled on her, cool yet piercing, and his expression betrayed nothing. If he was surprised by her appearance, he didn’t show it. Jania, on the other hand, offered a small, approving nod, though the glint in her eyes suggested she had more to say. frёewebnoѵēl.com

"Well," Jania remarked, breaking the silence, "you’re certainly dressed for the occasion."

Ephyra lifted her chin slightly, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "If the world’s talking about me, I may as well look the part."

Lyle’s lips curved ever so slightly, though his eyes remained unreadable. "It seems you’ve enjoying this. Good."

Ephyra’s smiled at him for just a moment as her gaze locked with his, but she quickly recovered. "I didn’t come this far to hesitate now. The pieces are in motion, and I’ll make sure they fall exactly where I want them."

Jania stepped forward, holding a tablet in one hand. "There’s something else you should see." She handed it to Ephyra, the screen displaying a series of headlines and social media posts.

’Banquet Bombshell: Scandals Shake Latham Laboratories!

’Heiress Turned Avenger? Ephyra Allen’s Triumphant Return and Exposé!’

’The Fall of Adam Latham: What’s Next for the Empire?’

Ephyra’s eyes scanned the headlines, her smirk returning, though this time it was colder, sharper. "Perfect," she murmured, her voice carrying a mix of satisfaction and venom.

Lyle stepped closer, his towering presence looming over her. "You’ve sent a message," he said quietly, his voice dangerously smooth. "But now comes the harder part—maintaining control. They’ll come for you, Ephyra. You know that, don’t you?"

Ephyra turned her gaze up to meet his, her eyes narrowing. "Let them come. I’ve dealt with worse."

His lips quirked into a small, dangerous smile. "Good. Just remember, no one gets to touch what’s mine."

Her breath hitched slightly, but she didn’t flinch, instead holding his gaze with defiance. "I’m not yours, Lyle."

His smile widened, but there was something predatory in the way he regarded her. "You keep telling yourself that."

Jania, sensing the tension between them, cleared her throat. "If I may interrupt," she began carefully, "there’s still the matter of Adam Latham’s next move. He’s not the type to accept defeat quietly."

Ephyra turned her attention back to Jania, her expression hardening. "Let him try. He’ll regret it."

Lyle’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he spoke again, his tone as cool and calculating as ever. "Then just make sure he doesn’t get the chance."