Transmigrated Into The True Heiress-Chapter 125: Charade

Ephyra smiled, "She is. Impressively deceptive."

Malia raised a brow, intrigued. "Deceptive? How so?"

Ephyra tilted her glass slightly, watching the champagne bubble. "It’s in her tone, her choice of words. She wants everyone to see perfection—an unshakable image of harmony and progress. But perfection is a mask. And masks, no matter how finely crafted, always crack under pressure."

Orla, who had been quietly observing, leaned in as well. "So you think there’s something off about this partnership?"

Ephyra’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. "What do you think?"

"I think it’s all a charade," Malia said smugly, raising her chin.

Orla scoffed, "Yeah, Sherlock Holmes, tell us something we don’t know." She swirled her wine glass lazily, her gaze flicking toward Leandra Latham, who was now engaged in polite conversation with a group of senior executives. "But it’s one thing to suspect and another to prove it."

Ephyra tapped a manicured finger against her glass, her expression contemplative. "Proving it isn’t always necessary. Sometimes, all it takes is to expose a weakness—a flaw in their narrative. Once the seed of doubt is planted, it grows on its own."

Malia leaned back in her chair, her curiosity piqued. "You sound like you’ve done this before."

Ephyra met Malia’s gaze, her eyes gleaming with an enigmatic light. "Let’s just say I’ve had my fair share of unraveling facades."

"Right, what about your Parents– I mean your dad? I saw him with Myra and Allen a few moments ago."

"We didn’t come together and I really don’t care. I’m sure he is doing perfectly well with his stepdaughter celebrating her engagement on such a grand scale."

Malia winced slightly at Ephyra’s words, sensing the bitterness beneath her calm exterior. She reached for her glass, her voice lowering as she ventured cautiously, "Ephyra... you don’t seem the least bit affected by it. Are you really okay with all of this?"

Ephyra’s smile was sharp, almost detached, as she swirled the champagne in her glass. "Why wouldn’t I be? It’s their night, their carefully crafted fairy tale. I’m just an observer, here for the spectacle."

Orla gave her a sidelong glance, her lips pressing into a thin line. "You’re too calm. That’s unusual."

Ephyra’s eyes glimmered with something unspoken as she set her glass down. "Calmness is a virtue, Orla. It’s also a weapon, especially when the people around you are too distracted to notice what’s beneath the surface."

Malia tilted her head, intrigued. "And what’s beneath your surface tonight?"

Ephyra leaned back in her chair, the picture of composed elegance. "Observation, patience, Sometimes, it’s better to wait for the perfect moment rather than act impulsively."

Before Malia could respond, the emcee returned to the stage, calling the attention of the room once again. "Ladies and gentlemen, we now invite Alan and Myra to take the dance floor for their engagement waltz. Please join me in congratulating the happy couple!"

The room erupted in applause, and all eyes turned toward Alan and Myra as they made their way to the center of the ballroom. Myra’s expression was radiant, though Ephyra didn’t miss the way her grip tightened on Alan’s arm. Alan wore his signature charming smile as he led her onto the dance floor.

As the orchestra began to play, the couple moved gracefully across the floor, their movements synchronized and picture-perfect.

As the crowd watched in admiration, Ephyra stood up gracefully, excusing herself with a polite nod to Malia and Orla. Without drawing much attention, she slipped through the ballroom, weaving her way past clusters of animated guests. The hum of conversation and the strains of the orchestra faded as she ventured down a quieter corridor, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor.

Just as she neared a set of long doors, Jania appeared.

"I was coming to get you," Jania said, her tone low but urgent. She glanced around briefly before motioning toward a discreet exit. "Come on, let’s go

Ephyra followed without hesitation, and they stepped through the doors, finding themselves in a sleek, opulent lounge. The space was dimly lit, illuminated by the golden glow of a crystal chandelier. Plush armchairs and a polished mahogany table occupied the center, exuding understated luxury. The air was perfumed with a faint hint of cedar and bergamot, a scent both calming and commanding.

Seated in one of the chairs, a figure lounged with casual authority, his long legs crossed and his head tilted slightly back, as if he had been resting. His eyes were closed, but as the door clicked shut behind them, he stirred, lifting his head. The moment his gaze met Ephyra’s, his expression softened, though his smile was so faint it seemed almost unintentional.

Ephyra froze, her breath hitching as she took in the sight of him. He stood fluidly, his movements graceful yet undeniably powerful, and strode toward her with measured steps. His presence filled the room, radiating an intensity that was impossible to ignore.

"Lyle," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

He stopped in front of her, his towering frame a striking contrast to her poised elegance. For a moment, neither spoke, the air between them heavy with unspoken tension.

Jania, sensing the charged atmosphere, shrugged apologetically when Ephyra glanced her way. "I didn’t know he’d be here," she said lightly before slipping to the far side of the lounge, giving them space.

"You’re here," Ephyra said finally, her voice steadier now, though her eyes searched his face for an answer.

"I am," he replied, his tone calm yet firm, as if the simplicity of his words carried a deeper meaning.

"Why?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, her curiosity tinged with cautious warmth.

"Because I didn’t feel at ease," Lyle admitted, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate timbre. "Not knowing what might happen to you, or whether you’d need anything."

Her lips curved into a rare, genuine smile, a flicker of warmth softening her usual cool demeanor. "Thank you," she said simply, her voice laced with sincerity.

Lyle’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he stepped back slightly, giving her just enough space to breathe while still keeping her within his orbit. "You don’t need to thank me," he said quietly. "Looking out for you is second nature by now."

Jania cleared her throat gently, drawing their attention. "We should start now. Everything is ready and VVIP’s are on stage anyway."