Transmigrated Into The True Heiress-Chapter 88: Dart

Eira scoffed, unscrewing the cap and taking another sip, stalling for time. "Guilty? Of what, exactly?"

Jania smirked. "Oh, I don’t know. Maybe for saying or doing something that pushed him away? Or maybe..." She tilted her head, studying Eira closely. "For feeling something you don’t want to admit?"

Eira laughed. "Please tell me you don’t think I have feelings for your ’Master Lyle.’"

Jania shook her head, smiling. "I never said anything about that, but your reaction says plenty."

Eira shot her a sharp look, setting the bottle down with deliberate force. "And what reaction would that be?"

Jania’s smile widened, the mischievous glint in her eyes growing more prominent. "Defensiveness, for one. The way you’re gripping that bottle like it personally offended you? That’s another."

Eira huffed, crossing her arms. "You’re reaching, Jania. You really are. There’s nothing between Lyle and me—at least, nothing like that. Yeah, he’s top-tier handsome, crazy rich, and every girl’s dream, but not mine, okay? Besides, we argued—or maybe I argued with him—about the connection he had to me, and I realize now that I shouldn’t have because he wasn’t even angry. Instead, he was trying to make me understand that it wasn’t his fault and he didn’t know anything about it. But I didn’t want to listen, and I feel a little guilty about what happened. Happy now?"

"Is that all?"

Eira shot Jania a sharp glare, her tone dripping with mock exasperation. "What do you mean, ’is that all?’ Yes, that’s all! What more do you want from me, a full-blown confession? Alright, I’ll tell you. I’m starting to feel grateful for everything he’s been doing for me, even though we made a deal and he’s simply doing his part of the deal. And Lyle is... he’s mysterious, infuriating, and always so damn composed. It’s irritating, that’s all."

Jania’s smirk grew, and she raised a playful eyebrow. "Irritating, huh? Sounds like someone’s occupying a little too much space in your head for all the wrong reasons."

Eira groaned, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "Don’t start, Jania. I don’t need your amateur psychoanalysis right now."

"Amateur?" Jania chuckled, pushing off the bench to stand. "Please. I’ve seen this story play out a dozen times. You, my friend, are in denial."

Eira pointed a finger at her. "Don’t. Even. Go. There."

Jania held up her hands in mock surrender, still grinning. "Fine, fine. I’m kidding, okay? Even if you had feelings for Master Lyle, I wouldn’t believe it. But seriously, maybe you should talk to him."

Eira sighed, leaning her head back against the wall as she stared at the ceiling. "Talk to him? And say what? ’Hey, sorry I acted like a complete brat because I was too stubborn to hear you out’? That’s not my style, Jania."

"You technically are a brat," Jania murmured to herself and chuckled, sitting beside her on the bench. "No, it’s not. But maybe it should be. Look, Ephyra, I get it. You’ve been through a lot, and letting your guard down isn’t easy. But Master Lyle... as you said, he’s composed, very calculated, and indifferent to a lot of things, so he definitely doesn’t think much of what happened or think of you as a brat."

Eira scoffed. "Brat or not, I doubt he wants to hear from me right now. Besides, he’s in Texas, remember?"

"True," Jania said, shrugging. "But I think it’s you who doesn’t want to meet him. Besides, he won’t be there forever. And when he gets back, you’ll have to face him eventually. Better to clear the air before things get any weirder between you two."

Eira closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. "Maybe you’re right. I just... I don’t know, Jania. Sometimes it feels like he sees right through me, and it’s unsettling."

Jania nodded thoughtfully. "But hey, no pressure. Just think about it, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Eira muttered, waving her off. "I’ll think about it."

The room fell into a comfortable silence for a moment before Jania stood, stretching her arms over her head. "Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Want to grab some food before you head out?"

Eira shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You go ahead. I’ve got some things to think about."

Jania raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. "Alright, suit yourself. Don’t overthink it too much, though. Sometimes, the simplest solution is the right one."

Eira watched as Jania left the training center, her mind swirling with thoughts. She knew Jania was right—avoiding the situation with Lyle wouldn’t make it go away. But the thought of confronting him, of admitting that she might have been wrong, was daunting.

Eira scoffed under her breath, setting the bottle down. "Stupid Jania. Stupid Lyle. Stupid guilt."

Standing, Eira grabbed her jacket and made her way back to the car, her resolve slowly solidifying. Maybe she wouldn’t have all the answers when Lyle returned, but she’d find a way to face him. After all, if there was one thing Eira Allen never did, it was run away from a fight—even if that fight was with herself.

"I’m leaving. Gotta get home before my evil stepmother finds something to bitch about," Eira said, leaning against the entrance of the dining area, watching Jania devour the food in front of her.

"Right, be careful. I’d have loved to see you out, but as you can see..." Jania gestured dramatically at her half-eaten plate.

Eira rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Enjoy your meal. Bye."

"Bye!" Jania called, her mouth already full again.

Eira smirked faintly as she turned, striding through the mansion’s elegant corridors toward the double doors. Once outside, the brisk air greeted her, and she made her way to the car waiting by the driveway. Sliding into the back seat, she addressed her driver. "Let’s go."

Reed nodded silently, starting the car and pulling out of the driveway. As they drove through the bustling streets of New York, Eira rested her head against the window. The sky was a blend of gold and orange, the setting sun casting a warm glow over New York City’s buildings and the pedestrians below.

Eira glanced at her phone, tapping the screen to check the time: 4:02 PM. By five, they’d be back in Forest Hills Gardens.

Eira allowed herself to relax, her eyes fluttering closed as the rhythmic hum of the car lulled her into a light sleep. Her muscles eased, her thoughts drifting into the void of unconsciousness.

The sudden, violent jolt of the car snapped her awake. Before she could process what was happening, the vehicle spun out of control, skidding wildly across the deserted road. The screech of tires and the shattering of glass filled her ears as the car rolled over, finally coming to a jarring stop.

"Fuck, fuck!" Eira groaned, her head pounding as she forced herself upright. She pushed against the door, shoving it open with a kick. Staggering out of the wreckage, she stumbled toward the driver’s seat, where Reed was slumped over.

"Reed! Are you okay?" Eira yelled, pounding on the window. The door creaked open, and Reed stumbled out, his face pale but determined.

"Miss Ephyra, are you hurt?" he asked urgently, his eyes scanning her for injuries.

Eira shook her head, trying to clear the fog clouding her mind. "No, I’m fine. My head’s just... pounding like crazy."

"Stay here," Reed said firmly. "I’ll call Miss Jania for help and check the road. It might have been a drunk driver. Please, get back into the car."

"What? Reed—"

She stopped mid-sentence, noticing his horrified expression. He was staring at something behind her, his face drained of color. A chill ran down her spine as she turned around.

Before her eyes could focus, a sharp sting hit her chest. Looking down, she saw a dart embedded in her clothes. Her breath hitched as her heart raced.

"What the—" she began, but another dart struck her arm. Her vision blurred, and her knees buckled as she struggled to stay upright. The world around her swayed, tilting at odd angles.

A third dart hit her, and she heard a loud thud behind her. Eira forced her head to turn, her fading sight landing on Reed’s crumpled form lying motionless on the ground.

"Reed..." she slurred, her voice barely audible as her legs gave out. Darkness swept over her like a wave, and She crumpled to the ground, her surroundings spinning into a haze of darkness.

Eira’s senses drifted in and out. Dim voices echoed around her, faint and distorted. The cold touch of the asphalt beneath her cheek was replaced by rough hands hauling her upward. She tried to fight, her limbs twitching weakly, but the sedative coursing through her veins made her efforts futile.

When her vision cleared momentarily, she caught sight of masked figures dressed in dark combat gear. Their movements were swift and precise as they loaded her into a van parked nearby. Reed’s unconscious form was dragged in after her, his head lolling to the side.

Eira’s heart pounded as she struggled to stay awake. Who the hell are they? Who the fuck wants her?

——

When Eira awoke, her head was pounding, and a metallic taste lingered on her tongue. Her eyelids felt heavy, but she forced them open, blinking against the bright light. The room was unfamiliar—bare, with concrete walls and a lots of LED lights, dotting the ceiling overhead. She was sitting on a cold metal chair, her hands bound tightly with thick leather straps.

"Great. Just fucking great," she muttered hoarsely, tugging at her restraints. Her mind raced, trying to piece together what had happened. The crash. The darts. Reed.

Where was Reed?

Panic clawed at her chest, but she forced herself to remain calm. Panicking wouldn’t help. She flexed her fingers, testing the tightness of the straps. Whoever had captured her knew what they were doing—there was no slack, no weak point to exploit.

A door creaked open, and Eira stilled, her sharp eyes narrowing as a figure stepped into the room.

"Well, well, look who’s finally awake," a deep, mocking voice said. The man stepped closer, his face obscured by the shadows. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a dark suit that looked oddly out of place in the stark surroundings.