Transmigrated Into The True Heiress-Chapter 34: Rest Easy

The night in California bustled like any other night, the various sounds of night life punctuated by the occasional hum of distant traffic and the warm glow of streetlights reflecting off the asphalt. The sleek black car cut through the streets, heading down Santa Monica Boulevard toward the Peninsula Beverly Hills, its shadow rippling over the buildings as it passed. Inside, in the backseat, a woman sat silently, her face partially illuminated by the city lights streaming through the window. The light curved around her face, subtly dividing it with a blend of shadows and soft illumination. Her left eye, the gentle waves of her black hair falling to her shoulders, and her forehead were touched by the glow, while her right eye, nose, and mouth remained shrouded in darkness.

The silence in the car was thick until a sharp chime pierced through it. Elmira looked down at her hands, placed on her crossed legs, and glanced at the screen. A call was coming through. She slid her finger across the glass and brought the phone to her ear.

"Where are you? My attendant is waiting for you in the lobby," came a gruff voice from the other end.

"I’m almost there," she replied softly, her tone composed, almost leisurely.

"Alright. I will see you soon." The line went silent.

Elmira lowered the phone, slipping it back into her bag as the streets of Beverly Hills unfurled before her.

Ten minutes later, the car pulled up to The Peninsula. The driver exited, making his way to her door, opening it with a respectful nod. Elmira stepped out, sliding dark glasses over her eyes as her pointed heels touched the pavement. She made her way into the hotel lobby, her heels echoing against the polished marble floor. Before she could approach the reception, a man in a tailored suit approached, his eyes sharp and assessing.

"Elmira Kingston?" he inquired, his gaze meeting hers as she lowered her sunglasses.

"Who’s asking?" she replied coolly, her brow arched.

The man offered a professional smile and a bow. "My boss has been waiting for you. He’s in the Royal Patio Suite. Please follow me." He gestured, inviting her to walk alongside him. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

Elmira studied him for a moment before nodding, falling into step behind him. They wound through the opulent halls until they reached the terrace, where the first sight that greeted her was the sprawling hotel gardens and the distant glow of the Century City skyline. A breeze swept through, carrying a hint of jasmine and the coolness of evening air.

Lounging in one of the terrace chairs sat the man she’d come to meet. He was dressed in a deep red shirt, open at the collar, with sleeves rolled back to reveal tattoos snaking along his arms and neck. As he saw her approach, he lifted a cigar to his lips, smoke curling around his rugged features.

"Andrés," Elmira greeted as an attendant helped her remove her trench coat, revealing the sleek black dress beneath.

"Ah, Elmira," Andrés drawled, exhaling smoke. "Always so striking—like your sister, yet... with your own unique taste." He gestured for her to sit.

Elmira took a seat across from him, her gaze steady. Andrés chuckled, eyeing her attire with a hint of amusement as he took another puff. "Your sister had a way of pulling off even the simplest outfits. What’s that they call it? Effortless charm." He laughed, a plume of smoke drifting from his mouth and nose.

Elmira gave a slight smile, "I believe I wasn’t called here to discuss my sister’s sense of style."

"Touchy, are we?" He raised a brow, exhaling a lazy plume of smoke. "So it’s true? You hate your sister?"

Elmira’s smile was thin. "I’m afraid that’s an understatement. But let’s focus on why I’m here."

"Straight to the point." He set the cigar aside and motioned to a waiter who refilled his wine glass. Andrés took a slow sip, studying her over the rim. "I mentioned a high-stakes job, didn’t I?"

She nodded, patient. "I remember. What’s the job?"

He leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a lazy murmur. "I want Antonio Sanchez eliminated. He’s been my fiercest business rival, clawing at my position for the past year. Last month, he took something valuable from me—a hard drive, to be specific. I want it back. I need this done within three days. Can you handle it?"

"If I couldn’t, you wouldn’t have called me," Elmira replied, her tone casual. "Anything else?"

"Actually, yes," Andrés replied, his eyes glinting. "There’s also a... meddlesome hacker, goes by the alias ’Drk’—a pathetic name, really, but he’s cunning. He’s the brains behind Sanchez’s operations. Get rid of him, and I’ll give you anything you want. Just name it."

Elmira’s brows lifted, an amused smirk playing at her lips. "Must be quite the threat, this hacker."

Andrés extinguished his cigar on a nearby ashtray, his expression tightening. "With Sanchez gone, he won’t have the spine to stay in the game. People like him hide at the first sign of danger. But if you manage to take them both down..."

Elmira tilted her head, a glimmer of intrigue in her gaze. "And if I do?"

He leaned back, fingers steepled as he looked past her, his eyes dark. "The Prism’s been teetering on the edge of collapse since your twin’s death. A few well-placed moves, and it’s yours for the taking. So, what do you say, querida?"

Elmira raised her glass in a silent toast before downing the wine, savoring its warmth before setting the glass back on the table. Her eyes drifted out over the terrace, where moonlight spilled across the manicured gardens. "La vista es hermosa. You have good taste, Andrés."

"I will be leaving now, I have to get started on your job." With a soft laugh, she stood, gathering her coat and sliding it back over her shoulders. "Cuanto antes lo termine, antes podré ver al Prisma convertirse en nada."

{The sooner I finish it, the sooner I get to see The Prism turn into nothing.}

"Godspeed, Querida."

She shot him a parting smile, slipping her sunglasses back on before she turned and walked out.

The attendant guided her to the lobby, bowing respectfully and handing her a sealed file before retreating without a word. Elmira looked down at the folder, her lips curling into a faint smile. She scoffed, tucking it under her arm as she exited to the waiting car.

"Westwood Village Memorial Park Cemetery," she directed as she settled back into her seat.

The driver nodded. "Yes, ma’am." Moments later, they were on their way.

...

The car pulled up beside the cemetery entrance, and the driver quickly stepped out to open the door. Elmira emerged, her trench coat buttoned and cinched at the waist as she strode through the quiet burial grounds. The grass was cool under her heels, dewy in the pale light as she approached a familiar headstone. "Eira Alessandra Bianchi" was engraved in bold letters, followed by the words In Memory of Loved Ones in cursive.

Elmira laughed softly, voice dripping with irony. "Loved ones? Really, Eira? Mom and Dad died in a gang war. Our brother was framed and killed by the cartel. And I denounced you as a sister. So, who are these loved ones?"

She folded her arms, an exaggerated look of pity crossing her face as she feigned wiping away nonexistent tears. "Ah, it must be your colleagues from The Prism that you call ’friends,’ right?" Her mocking smile widened. "Those are your loved ones?"

She sighed theatrically, tilting her head as if in genuine contemplation. "You know... out of all of them, you really had the worst of it. Their deaths were merciful, quick—a gunshot to the chest and a slow bleed-out. But you? No, your end was something else entirely. Riddled with bullets and falling from an almost forty-story building... Your body was practically unrecognizable. Makes me wonder—what could you have done to deserve such a brutal end? Someone must have really hated you."

Her tone softened slightly, though the venom remained unmistakable. "But that’s not why I’m here." She crouched down, her gaze narrowing with something colder than malice. "I’m sure you know that The Prism is on the brink of collapse, don’t you? Well, I’m planning to give it one last, gentle push. With the slightest nudge, it’ll come crashing down—just like you did."

A serene smile crossed her lips as she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "Wasn’t that what you cherished most? The legacy Old Richard left you to protect? Too bad. With you gone, there’s no one to stop me."

She let out a wistful sigh, eyes glittering with barely concealed satisfaction. "Remember all those times I pretended to care for you? Following along, playing nice, just like Old Richard wanted?" She shook her head, as if even the memory disgusted her. "I hated every second of it. Do you know the only day that felt like freedom for me—other than the day you died?" She laughed softly, darkly. "It was the day we finally parted ways."

Her voice dropped, "I can still see it—the moment you barged into my hotel room and saw one of The Prism’s enforcers collecting my badge and my weapons. The disappointment, the sadness in your eyes..." She paused, a spark of something sinister lighting her gaze. "It angered me. And pleased me."

A cold smile crossed her face as she straightened, adjusting her coat. "Goodbye, Eira. Rest easy."