The Heiress's Comeback
Chapter 203: [ Volume 1] Chaper 203- unknown person.

Chapter 203: [ Volume 1] Chaper 203- unknown person.

A nagging worry began to coil in her mind. What could have delayed him? The possibilities spun around her, each one darker than the last. He never broke his word, and the unease tightened its grip on her. Esme stood up, determination flooding her veins. She needed to find him.

Esme picked up the landline, her fingers trembling slightly as she dialed the office. The weight of the moment settled heavily on her shoulders, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. The phone rang, each tone echoing her rising anxiety until a cheerful voice broke through the tension.

"Hello, this is the front desk!"

"Can you tell me if Mr. Ray has returned?" Her voice was steady, but inside, a storm was brewing, each passing second intensifying her unease.

"Um, let me check, ma’am." The receptionist’s voice softened, and Esme could hear the sound of shuffling papers filtering through the line. The moment stretched into eternity as Esme tapped her pen nervously against the desk, a small but rhythmic distraction in the otherwise tense atmosphere.

Finally, the receptionist returned, her tone laced with uncertainty. "I’m sorry, ma’am, but Mr. Ray isn’t back yet. I’ll check with his assistant."

"Please do," Esme replied, forcing calmness into her voice even as dread knotted in her stomach. The seconds felt like hours as she waited, her mind racing through every possible scenario.

After what felt like an eternity, the receptionist returned again, her hesitation palpable. "The meeting was supposed to wrap up about an hour ago, but his assistant hasn’t seen him either."

Esme’s heart raced at the mention of an hour. An hour? Her mind reeled as she processed the information. Ray never stayed late without informing her—he was meticulous about keeping her in the loop. Something was definitely off. "Can you confirm who he went with?" she pressed, her voice more demanding than she intended, a reflection of her growing concern.

"Uh, yes, ma’am. It appears Mr. Ray went with a new secretary named Joe," the receptionist replied, hesitation clear in her tone.

Joe? The name sent a jolt of panic through Esme. She hadn’t hired anyone new. The last thing she needed was an unknown variable in the mix—especially one with direct access to Ray. "Did Mr. Ray take any bodyguards with them?" she asked, her voice strained with urgency, a sense of foreboding creeping into her thoughts.

"Uh, let me check," the receptionist murmured, the sound of her fingers tapping against the keyboard a disconcerting rhythm. "It doesn’t look like they took any security with them."

Esme had always made it clear to the Aron brothers: "If any of you leave the house, take at least two bodyguards with you." The mantra echoed in her mind, a warning born from the shadows of past threats.

She had carefully curated her circle—Aron, Helga, and a select few trusted employees. But now, a name had surfaced that sent a shiver down her spine: Joe. Who was this person? She had never hired anyone by that name.

After ending the call abruptly, a sense of foreboding gripped her heart. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, but they didn’t make any sense.

The original secretary was missing, the bodyguards were unaccompanied, and an unknown individual had slipped into their carefully controlled world. Something was very wrong.

With urgency thrumming in her veins, Esme strode down the sleek marble staircase, her heels clicking against the polished surface like an ominous metronome. Each step resonated with her rising anxiety.

When she reached the door to the bodyguards’ designated room, she hesitated for only a heartbeat before pushing it open, dread curling in her stomach at the sight that greeted her.

The room was dimly lit, heavy with an unsettling silence. All the bodyguards lay sprawled across the floor, their powerful bodies rendered motionless.

Panic surged within her as she rushed forward, heart pounding. Her eyes darted around the room, desperately searching for answers. Then she saw it—a table laden with remnants of food, its surface littered with half-eaten plates and cups.

"What the hell happened here?" she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. The air felt thick with betrayal and dread. Esme slammed her hand on the table, rattling the dishes, her mind racing with implications.

They had been poisoned. It was the only explanation. Whoever had done this had played a cowardly game, exploiting their trust and strength to slip poison into their meals.

"Damn it!" she spat, fury and frustration boiling within her. She had trusted these men with not just her life but the lives of the brothers, too. The weight of her responsibility pressed heavily on her shoulders. How could this happen under her watch?

Without a moment’s hesitation, Esme spun on her heel and bolted out of the room, her heart racing.

As she stormed down the corridor, her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and fears. Just ahead, she spotted Helga standing outside her office, an expression of concern etched across her features.

"President?" Helga called, her voice laced with confusion. But Esme couldn’t stop; urgency propelled her forward.

She dashed toward the parking lot, her mind racing. The sleek, silver bulletproof car that belonged to Ray should have been parked front and center, but it was conspicuously absent. Her heart sank as she approached the empty space where it should have been.

"Damn it!" she muttered under her breath, frustration and anxiety crashing over her like a wave.

The vehicle was more than just a car; it was an impenetrable fortress, designed with the highest security measures—bulletproof glass, tracking devices, and advanced weaponry, all tailored to protect its occupants. For Ray to leave in anything else was a breach of the strict protocol she had implemented.

Esme pressed her fingers against her temple, desperately trying to quell the rising panic.

The air around her felt thick, suffocating. Where was Ray? Where had he gone? Her pulse quickened as she turned to Helga, who had caught up to her, breathless and wide-eyed.

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