Chapter 22: Eira's Stand: I Will Destroy
Eira stared at her reflection, adjusting the dark black dress Callian had given her.
She ran her hands over the fabric, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach.
"Just focus on yourself," she whispered, looking herself in the eyes.
But Callian's words from last night kept playing in her mind, words about the marriage and his family's expectations.
She sighed and straightened her shoulders. "Today's about making an impression," she muttered. "On my terms."
As she was about to head out, her phone buzzed. It was a message from Liam:
"I'll be there. Don't keep me waiting too long."
Eira smirked to herself, putting the phone away. "Oh, don't worry, Liam. I'll be there—and I'll make sure you remember it."
The grand hall was filled with guests by the time Eira arrived.
Her father was already at the front, preparing for his speech, but she had her own plans.
She took a deep breath as she made her way inside.
Heads started turning, people's whispers became louder as they noticed her.
Eira felt the paparazzi's cameras shifting her way.
"Perfect," she murmured, stepping forward calmly.
As she approached the main floor, Callian appeared at her side.
"Eira," he said, "you… you look stunning."
Eira smiled, lowering her head. "Just trying to match the occasion," she replied. "Didn't want anyone to miss me today."
Callian raised an eyebrow, glancing toward Henry, who was clearly annoyed at the attention shifting from him to her.
"Well, you certainly achieved that," Callian said with a small laugh. "Though I can't say everyone here will be thrilled."
"That's the point." She glanced back toward her father. "Let him have his speech. I'm here for me."
Henry cleared his throat, standing under the bright lights as reporters crowded in.
He had a faint yet stretched smile across his face as he tried to maintain a calm, composed, confident attitude.
"Thank you all for being here," he began, nodding to the cameras. "I understand there have been… allegations, but let me assure you, these rumours are deeply misleading. I never knew of any such child."
A few heads in the audience nodded, some of the reporters murmured, staying intrigued by his confidence.
Henry was known for his charm, his way with people, and even now, he wielded it like a weapon.
The press had always liked him.
Then a female journalist near the front raised her hand, not waiting for him to call on her. "Mr. Blackwood, if you had no knowledge, then how do you explain the financial records? Substantial funds have been transferred over the years to accounts linked to a young woman."
Henry blinked, his smile faltered immediately.
He cleared his throat again. "I… I believe you're mistaken. Those records must be… misinterpreted. My lawyer will be clarifying any misunderstandings."
The lawyer, a thin man in a sharp suit, leaned forward, raising a hand to the crowd. "This line of questioning is beyond the scope of today's conference," he stated firmly. "Mr. Blackwood will not be entertaining baseless accusations."
The journalist pressed on, not intimidated at all. "But Mr. Blackwood, who exactly is Eira Hax to you? And why was she abandoned if you truly didn't know about her?"
Henry's face tightened.
He took a look at his lawyer, who stood by helplessly, trying to steer things back in Henry's favour.
Suddenly, a sound broke through the tension—a slow, steady clap.
All eyes turned as Eira stepped forward from the back of the room, her hands clapped gently.
The cameras swung in her direction, flashes were lighting up her face as gossip rippled through the crowd.
"Eira Hax… Eira Hax is here?" one reporter whispered.
Eira stepped fully into the light, a slight smirk tugged at her lips.
The questions flooded her way as she stood at the same place, not scared by the sudden attention.
"Eira, is it true? Is Helen Hax really your mother?" one journalist called out, shoving a microphone forward.
"Yes," Eira replied. "Helen Hax is my mother. And Henry Blackwood," she continued, turning to face him, "is my father."
Henry's face went pale, his hands twitched as he fought to keep his nerves before letting them break him.
"So why did you come back?" a reporter asked eagerly, scribbling notes.
"To claim what's rightfully mine," she said.
The room fell into silence for a heartbeat, then exploded with a frenzy of questions; the press suddenly became relentless.
Henry's lawyer stepped forward again, desperately trying to shield his client. "This isn't the place for—"
But Eira cut in. "Oh, but it is, isn't it?" She glanced over the crowd, then back to her father. "Henry Blackwood is the one who made it public by pretending he had nothing to hide. Isn't that right?"
Henry's mouth opened, then closed. For the first time, he looked truly cornered.
A reporter near the back shouted, "Eira, do you have proof of your claims?"
Eira's lips curled into a smile; her eyes continued glaring at her father. "The only proof anyone needs," she replied, "is standing right here."
She let the silence sink in, watching Henry drown.
Henry finally found his voice, though it came out strained, brittle. "This… this young woman has clearly been misled. She's… she's an imposter, trying to claim things that aren't hers."
Eira arched an eyebrow. "Is that so, Henry?" She took a step closer. "Because I've got plenty more to say, and I think the press would be very interested in hearing it."
The crowd surged, reporters calling out, each trying to grab her attention, to be the first to get the story.
"Eira, what exactly are you claiming?"
"What do you want from Henry?"
Eira raised a hand, silencing them, then turned back to Henry with a look that held no warmth, no forgiveness.
"I want you to remember, Henry, that I'm not going anywhere," she said quietly, but her words went across the hall like a loud gunshot. "This is just the beginning."
And with that, she straightened, gave the cameras one last piercing look, and walked out, leaving Henry to face the barrage of questions he could no longer escape.