Transmigrated Into The True Heiress-Chapter 101: The Picture Of Poise

A gleaming blue Rolls-Royce stopped in front of an opulent restaurant, its grand façade illuminated by golden lights that shimmered against the sleek black marble walls. Tall, arched windows framed with intricate wrought ironwork revealed glimpses of chandeliers inside, their crystal droplets scattering light like diamonds. The entrance was marked by a red carpet leading to heavy oak double doors, polished to a mirror-like shine, with uniformed doormen standing at attention.

Inside the car, Eira reached up, swiftly pulling her hair into a low bun, allowing a few fringes to fall over her face. She inspected her reflection in the rearview mirror briefly, ensuring it didn’t look bad, and when she was sure of that, she moved to the car door.

The door clicked open, and Miles extended his hand to help her out. He nodded at her in silent acknowledgment, his expression impassive as always.

"Thank you," she said, stepping out gracefully, her heels clicking against the cobblestones as she made her way toward the entrance.

Once she got there, the doormen opened the door for her as the soft strains of classical music floated out to greet her. The air inside was warm, a stark contrast to the cool evening outside, and filled with the rich aroma of gourmet dishes being served in the restaurant’s lavish dining hall.

Eira paused for a moment just inside the doorway, her eyes taking in every detail. Guests dressed in their finest were seated at tables adorned with pristine white linens, golden candelabras, and fresh flower arrangements. Waiters moved with practiced precision, their trays laden with plates of artfully presented food.

Her gaze landed on her family. They were seated at a round table near the end of the room beside the window, the soft glow of a chandelier above them casting a golden hue over their faces. Eliot was at the head of the table, speaking to the waiter with his usual calmness. Marianna sat beside him, her expression serene but tinged with naughtiness and impatience. Myra, in contrast, was scrolling through her phone, her lips pursed as if she were bored out of her mind.

Eira’s entrance did not go unnoticed. Heads turned as she strode forward, her every step deliberate, her posture regal. The bodycon dress hugged her figure perfectly, and the asymmetrical hem swayed elegantly with each movement.

When she reached the table, Eliot was the first to notice her. He rose to his feet, his expression a mix of surprise and admiration. "Ephyra," he said, his voice warm but slightly hesitant. "You look beautiful."

Marianna turned, her lips curving into a grating smile. "Indeed, Ephyra. You’ve outdone yourself tonight. Your father told me that you refused to let him get you a dress. Now, I wonder how exactly you got the dress from?"

Eira smiled faintly, the corners of her mouth curving upward just enough to be polite but not enough to hide her detachment. "Good evening to you too, Marianna," she said smoothly, pulling out the chair left for her by the waiter and sitting down with grace. "To answer your question, how else would I get a dress from? Of course, I bought it."

"Oh? You did?" Marianna said, feigning surprise. "And where exactly did you get the money from? Neither your father nor I give you money, and you don’t work. So, tell me, Ephyra—"

"I’m glad you admitted that you don’t give me money," Ephyra interrupted smoothly, "but I thought Dad did. At least, I assumed he gave it to you to pass on to me. Or was I wrong?"

Marianna froze, her eyes widening in shock. "What?"

Eliot turned to her sharply, his glare like a whip. "You just said I don’t give her money, but I always give it to you to hand over in my absence. So, Marianna, what the hell are you talking about?"

"That—I—I mean—" Marianna stammered, her composure cracking.

"Dad, you need to calm down. We came here—" freeweɓnovel.cøm

"Shut up, Myra," Eliot snapped, cutting her off. Myra clamped her mouth shut, her jaw tightening as she glared daggers at Ephyra.

Ephyra, unbothered, took a deliberate sip from her glass of water, a sly smile playing on her lips. When her eyes met Myra’s, she shrugged, the picture of innocence.

"Well?" Eliot’s voice rose, demanding. "Don’t you have anything to say, Marianna?"

Marianna’s face turned crimson, her carefully composed facade cracking under the weight of Eliot’s glare. Through gritted teeth, she said, "Eliot, you misunderstood. I—I didn’t give Ephyra the money because I thought she wouldn’t need it. I kept it aside for... emergencies."

Eira let out a snort of laughter, drawing everyone’s attention. "Emergencies?" she echoed, setting her glass of water down. Her voice was tinged with amusement. "That’s a new one, Marianna. So, me needing basic necessities doesn’t qualify as an emergency?"

Eliot stared at Marianna, his expression darkening with disbelief. "Do you think I’m stupid?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "You kept money meant for my daughter—for your own purposes? And you’re only admitting it now because I caught you?"

Marianna flinched, her composure crumbling further. "It’s not like that, Eliot," she stammered, her tone defensive. "I didn’t think she’d need much. She’s always so... independent. And I didn’t want to spoil her—"

"But you spoiled your daughter rotten," Eira muttered under her breath but they all heard her.

"Enough," Eliot cut her off, his voice cold. He leaned back in his chair, his hands clenched tightly on the armrests. "You don’t get to decide what Ephyra needs or doesn’t need. That’s my job as her father. And you’ve clearly failed in the one responsibility I entrusted you with."

Myra, sensing the rising tension, interjected, "Dad, let’s not ruin dinner over something like this. It’s not that big of a deal—"

"Not that big of a deal?" Eliot snapped, his gaze shifting to her. "This is about trust and responsibility. Something neither you nor your mother seems to understand."

Eira sat back in her chair, enjoying the chaos unfolding before her. She caught Myra’s glare and raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. "Oh, don’t look at me like that, Myra. I didn’t start this. I’m just here for the show."

Marianna turned to Eira, her eyes blazing with anger. "You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Stirring up trouble every chance you get."

Eira’s smile didn’t waver. "Trouble? No, Marianna. Trouble is when you steal money meant for someone else and get caught lying about it. I’m simply... existing."

Eliot slammed his hand on the table, silencing everyone. "Enough. This is not how a family behaves," he said, his voice firm but weary. His gaze landed on Marianna. "We’ll discuss this later. For now, I want this dinner to continue without any more drama."

Marianna pressed her lips into a thin line, clearly furious but unable to argue. Myra sulked in her seat, her anger simmering just beneath the surface.

Eira, on the other hand, picked up her fork and began eating, utterly unbothered. "Well, this has been a lovely start to the evening," she said dryly, her tone laced with sarcasm. "Let’s see how the rest of it unfolds."

Eliot gave her a sharp look, but she simply smiled innocently, the picture of poise.