Transmigrated Into The True Heiress-Chapter 50: A Slap For The Perfect Son

Alan and Myra walked out of the hotel, Alan hauling their compact suitcases in one hand. The strained silence between them was thick, weighing down like a palpable tension as they moved through the hotel’s grand, opulent lobby. Both were lost in their own thoughts: Alan was consumed by worry, unease, and anger at himself, while Myra was worried, regretful, and hopeful.

Alan’s face was drawn and tight, his jaw clenched as he wheeled their suitcases, his eyes flicking down to the polished floor as though the answers might be hidden in the tiles. A fog of guilt and confusion clouded his mind, each memory slipping further away the harder he tried to grasp it. Beside him, Myra walked stiffly, her expression guarded. Beneath her controlled demeanor, a storm of anger and triumph twisted together, though she kept her features schooled into a look of quiet suffering.

As they reached the hotel’s entrance, a cheerful attendant approached, offering a polite smile. "I hope you both had a wonderful stay with us," she said warmly. "Wishing you a safe journey home, and we look forward to welcoming you back in the future."

Alan managed a tight-lipped smile, nodding politely. "Thank you," he replied, his voice softer than usual, almost as if he felt he didn’t deserve the courtesy.

He stepped forward, opening the car door for Myra with a hesitance that didn’t go unnoticed. Myra slid into the back seat without meeting his gaze, positioning herself close to the window, as if placing physical space between them might also help alleviate the suffocating tension.

Once Alan settled into the car beside her, he glanced her way, but she continued to stare out the window, her expression unreadable. As the car began to move, the silence between them deepened, with the low hum of the engine the only sound accompanying them.

After more than an hour, the car finally pulled up in front of the Allen mansion. As Myra stepped out, the driver retrieved her luggage from the trunk. She collected her bags and turned toward the house, but Alan reached out, catching her wrist and pulling her back, his eyes brimming with remorse and desperation.

"Myra, wait," he pleaded, his grip tightening slightly on her suitcase. "You know it wasn’t entirely my fault. We were both drunk. You heard what the hotel staff said, right? That wine was one of the strongest wines they had because it was old, and we finished the whole bottle. They said that’s why we can’t remember what happened last night."

He leaned closer, his voice laced with regret. "You know how much I love you, how much I want you. I swear, I didn’t mean for this to happen."

Myra bit her lip, her gaze cast down to hide the storm flickering in her eyes. Finally, she nodded with a stiff, expressionless look. "I’ll let you know once I’ve taken the test." Her voice was cold as she slipped her hand from his grip, turning and striding toward the house.

Eira watched the scene unfold from her bedroom window, an amused smile curving her lips. She noted the raw frustration in Alan’s face and the flicker of distaste in Myra’s expression as she pulled away.

With a quiet chuckle, Eira turned from the window and made her way downstairs, eager to welcome her dearest stepsister back home.

Myra walked through the entrance and down the hallway, passing by the living room. She turned the corner and walked toward the stairs but came to a halt as she noticed Ephyra waiting by the bottom of the stairs.

Myra’s expression immediately shifted from the mask of composure she had on to unfiltered disdain. "What the hell are you doing there?"

Eira shrugged. "Take a guess."

Myra stepped forward, her impatience wearing thin as it reflected in her expression. "I will say this only once: get the hell out of my way."

Eira let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Oh, seems like someone didn’t have a great time," her voice low and dripping with amusement. "You know, I came to welcome you, but since you’re in such a bad mood..."

"Ephyra! Just shut your mouth and get the hell out of my way."

Eira didn’t flinch at Myra’s outburst. Instead, her smile widened, eyes glinting with a spark of mischief. She crossed her arms, leaning casually against the bannister as if she had all the time in the world.

"Why so touchy?" she drawled, her tone light. "Rough night, I take it?"

Myra’s eyes narrowed, her hands tightening around the handle of her suitcase as she clenched her jaw. "If you don’t move, I’ll make you."

Eira’s chuckle was soft and taunting, her gaze sweeping over Myra’s flushed face with evident amusement. "Go ahead," she said with an arch of her brow, daring her to try. "I’d love to see you try."

A tense silence stretched between them, each locked in a silent battle of wills. Myra’s face twisted in barely concealed rage, and her lips pressed into a thin line. Eira simply waited, calmly watching her every move.

Finally, with a huff, Myra pushed past her, muttering something under her breath. Eira didn’t resist, stepping aside with a graceful sweep of her hand as if granting her permission to pass.

"Oh, and Myra?" Eira’s voice floated up the staircase, stopping her in her tracks. "Welcome home. I’m sure the Allen mansion missed you as much as I did."

Myra didn’t turn back, but the stiff set of her shoulders said enough. Smirking, Eira watched her retreat upstairs, a sense of satisfaction settling over her. This was only the beginning—she would make sure Myra knew exactly what pain was.

Meanwhile, Alan, who had just gotten home a few minutes ago, wanted to go straight to his room but was stopped by his younger brother.

"Alan, hold up," his younger brother, Leo, called out, striding down the hallway to catch up. Leo’s expression was a mix of concern and curiosity, his eyes darting between Alan and the top of the stairs.

Alan forced a weary smile, trying to shrug off his visible exhaustion. "What is it, Leo?" he asked, his voice strained but attempting some semblance of normalcy.

Leo frowned, crossing his arms. "You look like you’ve been through hell. And Mom has been extremely angry ever since she came back from a meeting. It was as if someone had stolen millions of dollars from her. Everyone has been on edge around here. Even Ava, who never knows when to shut up, has been holed up in her room, scared of Mom ordering her to live in the side house."

Alan sighed. "Fuck." This wasn’t what he needed.

"I’m just advising you to lay low and stay out of her radar, though I doubt she will find any fault with you or take her anger out on you." Leo uncrossed his arms. "You’re her perfect son—"

Before he could finish his words, a soft but distinct slap-slap echoed down the hallway as their mother, Leandra, approached, her slippers hitting the floor as she walked with hurried steps toward them.

Alan and Leo both tensed, instinctively straightening as Leandra came into view. Her face was set in a mask of barely restrained fury, the corners of her mouth tight and her eyes sharp, flickering with cold fire. Her gaze shifted between her sons, but it lingered on Alan, who barely kept himself from flinching under her scrutiny.

Without giving them time to register what was happening, she raised her hand and slapped Alan on his left cheek, making his head turn to the side. Without giving him a moment to recover, Leandra’s hand rose again. Her palm connected with Alan’s other cheek, the sharp crack echoing through the hallway, leaving a sting that forced his head to jerk to the opposite side.

Alan stood motionless, his eyes fixed downward, his jaw clenching as he absorbed the sting of the second slap. He didn’t dare look up, knowing any sign of defiance would only provoke her further. Beside him, Leo froze, glancing between Alan and their mother, his eyes wide with shock.

"Do you have any idea," Leandra spat, her voice a low hiss, "how many sleepless nights I’ve had trying to continuously heighten the respect this family has been enjoying? And you—" She pointed a trembling finger at Alan, her eyes blazing with fury. "You, my ’perfect son,’ almost ruined it all. I have built this family’s reputation from the ground up, kept it spotless, all for you and your siblings. And yet, in one night, you’ve nearly destroyed everything." Her voice was cold, each word cutting like ice.

Alan was shocked that she knew, but he didn’t show it.

He kept his gaze fixed downward, absorbing the weight of his mother’s wrath without a word. His cheek throbbed from her slaps, and a mixture of anger and humiliation simmered in his chest, but he knew better than to respond. Leo’s quiet gasp beside him reminded him that he wasn’t alone in witnessing this moment, which only added to the sting of his humiliation.

He also knew his mother well enough to understand that any sign of weakness would only fuel her anger further.

Leandra’s eyes narrowed as she searched his face, waiting for a reaction that would prove he was as affected by her words as she wanted him to be. When she found none, her voice grew even sharper. "Do you think I don’t know what’s been going on? Do you think you can hide your mistakes from me? I’ll be watching you closely, Alan, and if you step out of line again, I won’t be so forgiving. Understand?"

Alan nodded stiffly, his face still burning from her slaps. "Yes, Mother."

She took a step back, exhaling slowly as she regained her composure. "I will be going to the Allen mansion tomorrow to break off your engagement with Ephyra and get you engaged–"she paused, forcing herself to say it out–"to Myra. You love her don’t you?"

Alan froze, before stammering out, "W-what?" He asked, wanting her to repeat what she said to make sure he heard right, his heart racing as he hoped he didn’t hear wrong.

"I’m not repeating myself. Tomorrow, when you leave school, go straight to Allen’s house. Now get out of my sight." Leandra waved him off.

Alan nodded trying hard not to smile and hug his mother as he turned around. His thoughts filled with how happy Myra would be once she gets the news, not thinking of why his mother came to such a decision.

As Alan walked away, a triumphant smile crept onto his face. The sting from his mother’s slap faded, replaced by a sense of victory at the thought of officially being with Myra. Though he knew their relationship had been riddled with secrets, regrets, and tangled emotions, he couldn’t help but feel hopeful and happy.

Leo, watching his brother’s expression, raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He couldn’t help but feel an unease that Alan’s happiness was misplaced not knowing that his mother has shifted her attention to him.

"What are you still doing here?"

Leo took a step back, startled as his mother’s sharp gaze landed on him.

"Nothing, Mother," he replied quickly, instinctively straightening. "I was just checking on Alan."

Leandra gave him a hard look, her piercing eyes narrowing. "Checking on him? I didn’t raise you to meddle in matters that don’t concern you, Leo." Her tone softened only slightly, but the edge in her voice was unmistakable. "Remember, focus on your studies and future, and stay clear of any nonsense."

Leo nodded, swallowing his retort. He wanted to say he wasn’t meddling, just concerned, but he knew better than to argue with her when she was in this mood. He cast one last glance at Alan’s retreating figure before heading to his room.