Transmigrated Into The True Heiress

Meanwhile, in Allen Mansion, Marianna sat at the edge of her daughter's bed, her fingers absently tracing the silk of her dress as she stared into space, brows furrowed in thought. Her blonde hair fell in loose, effortless waves over her shoulders, framing her face in a way that highlighted her striking features. She wore a mint-colored silk wrap dress, its plunging neckline revealing just enough to catch attention, while the thigh-high slit on one side accentuated her curvaceous figure.

Across the room, her daughter, Myra, was busy getting ready for her father's return from a long business trip. Marianna, however, seemed preoccupied, her usual calculated calm slipping as the minutes ticked by.

It had been a long journey for Elliot Allen. When he inherited *Alc Architectures*, the company had been on the verge of collapse, plagued by debts and mismanagement. But Elliot, with his unrelenting drive and resourcefulness, had managed to pull the company back from the brink. Still, despite his efforts, it was a pale shadow of the empire it once was.

The turning point came when Elliot married Elara—Ephyra's mother. Elara had inherited a massive fortune after the untimely death of her parents, and upon their marriage, almost all of it was transferred to Elliot. With that infusion of wealth, *Alc Architectures* was given new life. The company's reputation improved, projects flowed in, and it seemed as if nothing could stop them, even after Elara's tragic death.

But then came Marianna.

A few years into his second marriage, Elliot secured a high-profile contract—one that was supposed to elevate the company to new heights. But the deal was a trap. The company involved paid only half the agreed amount, forcing Elliot to use *Alc's* remaining funds to purchase materials that were later stolen. It turned out that the so-called "partner company" had never existed. The losses from the scam crippled *Alc Architectures*, sending it into a steady decline. And Elliot became a shadow of himself—obsessed with regaining the fortune he'd lost.

Now, for the first time in years, there was hope on the horizon. A prestigious firm from the U.S. had approached *Alc* with a major contract to build a branch in China. Elliot had flown out three weeks ago to finalize negotiations, a trip that was supposed to last two weeks but had dragged on into its third.

Marianna knew exactly why her husband had extended his trip. She had long grown indifferent to the excuses, the late nights, and the emotional distance. As long as no other woman was bold enough to threaten her position in the household, she didn't care. Let him take all the time he needed.

But that wasn't what was bothering her now.

She stood up abruptly, pacing behind one of the plush white couches that lined the pink-and-gold-themed bedroom. Her manicured fingers grazed the soft fabric as she walked back and forth, unable to shake the unease gnawing at her.

"Mom…" Myra sighed from the vanity, her hand paused mid-air as she applied a final touch of lip gloss. She turned to look at her mother through the reflection in the mirror. "You need to calm down. Didn't you say they were professionals? If they're from the Black Market, they know what they're doing. Ephyra's probably dead already."

Marianna halted her pacing, her sharp eyes narrowing. "Then why hasn't Rico called me yet? It's been five hours. Your father will be home in less than an hour, and every minute that passes without confirmation of that girl's death increases the chances of Elliot finding out what happened. If only the letters and that damned CCTV footage didn't exist, we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place."

She resumed pacing, her steps quick and restless. "But the dead can't talk," she muttered under her breath. "So it's better if she's dead."

Myra rolled her eyes at her mother's dramatics, standing from the vanity. She was dressed in a pale lavender dress with subtle pleats at the waist, her hair styled half-up, half-down, cascading in loose waves that mirrored her mother's. "Mom, you're overthinking this. Ephyra is not surviving tonight. We're going to be fine."

Marianna paused, her fingers gripping the back of the couch as though for support. "I won't feel at ease until I hear that she's gone. Your father can't know about this—if he does…"

"I know, I know," Myra interrupted, standing from her vanity and smoothing her dress. "It'll ruin everything. But stressing yourself out isn't going to help. Just trust your friend and his men. They'll get the job done."

Marianna shot her a sharp glance. "I'm not only worried about them doing their job. I'm also worried about timing. I don't want to take a risk and still fail."

Myra walked over, placing a calming hand on her mother's shoulder. "Mom, relax. We're going to be fine. Ephyra is as good as gone."

Marianna let out a shaky breath and nodded, resting her hand over her daughter's. "She has to be."

Just as she spoke, a knock sounded at the door, drawing their attention. "Who's that?"

"Ma'am Marianna, it's Elma."

"Come in."

The door creaked open, and Elma, the family's long-serving nanny, stepped inside. She was dressed neatly in her usual uniform, her demeanor calm and collected.

"Ma'am," Elma began, her eyes flickering briefly between mother and daughter, "I just wanted to report that all the preparations are done, and according to Mr. Allen's secretary, they should be arriving any moment now."

Marianna's expression remained tense, and she waved a dismissive hand. "Alright, you can leave. We will be ready soon and head downstairs."

Elma nodded but lingered, as if something else weighed on her mind. Sensing the pause, Myra narrowed her eyes.

"What are you still doing here, Elma? Do you need something?" Myra's voice was sharp, impatience lacing her words.

Elma clasped her hands together, lowering her gaze. "It's about Ephyra… I haven't seen her all evening. She hasn't come back to the house yet. I was wondering if something had happened to her, just like when she got into that accident three weeks ago."

At the mention of Ephyra's name, Marianna's jaw clenched, and Myra's expression hardened.

"Ephyra is fine, Elma," Marianna said tersely. "She's probably staying late at school. Nothing for you to worry about."

Elma's brow furrowed, her voice soft with concern. "But ma'am, Ephyra hasn't fully recovered, and she was just discharged. I'm just worried that—"

"I said she's fine!" Marianna snapped, her patience wearing thin. The sudden outburst startled both Myra and Elma. Myra quickly stepped in, her tone cold and dismissive.

"Elma, whatever happens to her is her fault. She can take care of herself. Now stop being annoying and leave."

Elma pressed her lips together into a thin line but nodded. "Yes, miss," she murmured, retreating toward the door.

As she turned to leave, Marianna's fingers twitched, her nerves still frayed. "And Elma," Marianna called after her, her voice firm, though cold, "if you hear anything about Ephyra, let me know immediately. Understood?"

Elma paused, glancing back briefly. "Yes, ma'am. I'll let you know."

With that, the door closed behind her, leaving Marianna and Myra in a heavy silence, each lost in their thoughts.

Myra crossed her arms, some of her earlier confidence faltering. "You think Elma suspects something?"

Marianna shook her head, though her expression remained tight. "No. She's just overly concerned about Ephyra, as usual. But it doesn't matter. By the time anyone realizes what's happened, it will be too late."

A sudden ring shattered the silence, causing both women to jump. Marianna quickly fished her phone out, her heart pounding when she saw Rico's name on the screen.

She answered immediately, her voice tense. "Rico?"

There was a brief silence on the other end before Rico's gruff voice crackled through. "We've got a problem."

Marianna's blood turned to ice. "What do you mean, a problem?"

"Ephyra," Rico growled, "She's— fuck! Wha—" The line abruptly went dead.

Frantically, Marianna redialed, but the call wouldn't go through.

"Argh!" She hurled the phone onto the couch, where it bounced once before hitting the floor.

"What happened, mom?" Myra asked, her voice laced with uncertainty.

Marianna cradled her head in her hands, pacing again. "I don't know, but it's definitely not good. What was he going to say about Ephyra?"

"I don't know—"

Another knock sounded, and this time it was one of the maids.

"Ma'am, Master Allen has arrived."

…

Elliot Allen stepped out of the black SUV. He looked exhausted, but there was an undeniable lightness in his demeanor that hadn't been there in months. His trip had clearly gone well, and he was in a better mood than either Marianna or Myra had seen in a long time.

"Welcome home, darling," Marianna cooed, her voice soft and seductive as she approached him with open arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his as she placed a lingering kiss on his lips. His hand instinctively found her waist, and a low hum of satisfaction escaped him.

Marianna knew how to keep him grounded in his desires. Even after seventeen years of marriage and a grown daughter, she had perfected the art of keeping her husband's attention. The way his shoulders relaxed in her embrace was proof enough of that.

"Father!" Myra greeted enthusiastically, stepping forward with a wide smile, her arms wrapping around him in a quick but affectionate hug. Despite her impatience earlier, she knew how to play the role of the perfect daughter when needed.

Elliot chuckled softly, "My girls," he said, patting both of them on the back fondly. "It's good to be home."

For the first time in what felt like ages, he seemed genuinely happy—relieved, even. And it was clear to Marianna and Myra that something had gone right during his trip.

After exchanging pleasantries with the driver and his secretary, Elliot dismissed them both, waving them off with a casual "Good work." The SUV doors closed, and the staff quickly dispersed, leaving the family alone.

With Marianna on one side and Myra on the other, both clinging to his arms, they guided him toward the grand entrance of the house. The staff lined up near the doorway to offer their greetings.

"Welcome home, Mr. Allen," the staff chorused, bowing slightly before quickly making themselves scarce. They knew better than to linger when Elliot wanted to unwind.

Marianna gave her husband a coy smile, her hand still resting on his arm. "Why don't you take a quick shower, darling? You must be tired from the trip. We'll get everything ready for dinner."

Elliot, who was already loosening his tie, nodded in agreement. "That sounds perfect. I could use a shower."

As he headed upstairs, Marianna gave the staff a few swift instructions to set the dining table, ensuring everything would be perfect for his first meal back.

The relaxed, happy atmosphere continued as Elliot came back downstairs, freshly showered and dressed in more comfortable attire. The dining room was elegantly prepared, the table set with fine china and gleaming silverware. Marianna had gone out of her way to make sure the meal would be a special one.

As they began to eat, the conversation was light. Elliot talked about the trip, hinting at the success of the negotiations, though he remained vague on the details for now. Myra chimed in occasionally, asking about the architecture in China, though it was clear that her mind was still elsewhere.

And then, as they neared the end of the meal, Elliot glanced around the room, his brow furrowing slightly. "Where's Ephyra?" he asked, his tone casual, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes.

Marianna froze, her hand hovering over her glass of wine. Myra's eyes flickered briefly toward her mother before she quickly schooled her expression into something neutral.

"Oh, Ephyra…" Marianna began, trying to sound nonchalant as she set her glass down carefully. "She's been busy with school. She might still be at the library studying."

Elliot frowned, setting his fork down. "This late?"