The Heiress's Comeback
Chapter 229: [ Volume 1] Chaper 229-Suicide.

Chapter 229: [ Volume 1] Chaper 229-Suicide.

Ryan and Jay had just finished their rounds in Esme’s room when a quiet knock interrupted their thoughts. Both turned to see Helga at the doorway, carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of porridge and a glass of water. Ryan gave the tray a once-over, then nodded approvingly.

"Good. At least it’s warm," he muttered, glancing back at Esme. "I’d rather not feed her anything right now, but she needs it." With that, he turned on his heel, excusing himself to check on Ray.

As the door closed behind him, Helga stepped forward, setting the tray on the bedside table. Esme watched her through half-lidded eyes, exhaustion dulling the sharp edge of her gaze. Helga, however, didn’t reach for the porridge or even hand it over; instead, she sat down on a nearby stool, her expression hardening into a mask of steely determination.

"Why did you kill Second Aunt?" Helga’s voice was quiet but unwavering, cutting through the silence with an intensity that caught Esme off guard. Esme blinked, her expression shifting from confusion to something unreadable.

"What do you mean?" she retorted, feigning innocence. "I didn’t kill anyone."

Helga’s jaw tightened, her patience clearly wearing thin.

"Don’t try to fool me, Esme. I know exactly what you did, and I need to know why." Her voice dropped to a fierce whisper, the weight of her concern palpable. "Do you want the entire world to know that Esme Valhalla is still alive?"

The walls that Esme had so carefully constructed began to crack. She knew she couldn’t hide the truth from Helga, not someone who’d been by her side through the worst of times. Her gaze hardened, her posture shifting as if preparing for battle.

"So what?" she replied, her voice icy. "Was I supposed to just let him die?"

Helga’s eyes flashed, her frustration evident. "He wouldn’t have died, Esme! You could have called the police, or at least called us. But summoning your divine beast—destroying three other beasts in the process?" She shook her head, disbelief coloring her tone.

"They might have been low-ranking, but you know the risks of using them. And what if you’d lost? You realize there was a bomb planted on that hill. If you hadn’t survived, I’d be picking up your remains."

Esme’s lips thinned, but she didn’t look away.

Helga leaned forward, her eyes softening just slightly. "This marriage, you said it was a charade. Then why are you willing to die for them? Why are you throwing yourself headfirst into danger like this? Do you really believe they’re worth your life?"

Esme’s words fell heavy in the air, an empty calm underlying her tone that only amplified the disquiet in her eyes. "I don’t know, Helga," she repeated softly. "I don’t know why I did it. I don’t even know how it all spiraled out of my hands. The moment I realized he was missing... it felt like my mind shattered into a hundred pieces."

Helga listened intently, surprise flickering in her gaze as Esme continued. "It wasn’t even this desperate when I was building the Vallahe group," Esme murmured, her voice strained with an almost haunted nostalgia. "It’s the same feeling I felt then—the moment I lost Cain."

Hearing that name, a shiver ran through Helga. Cain. Esme rarely ever spoke of him, let alone dared to say his name aloud. She had always held herself responsible, believing she’d lost the right to even utter his name. She often called herself a sinner, cursed with a memory she could never truly leave behind. But here she was, letting her guard down in a way that revealed just how deeply the wounds had scarred.

Esme’s words tumbled forward, her voice subdued yet charged with hidden emotion. "When I finally tracked him down, I drove recklessly, knowing I might not make it in time. And yes, you were right. I saw the bomb, but by then, it was too late. So, I thought... maybe if that woman thought I’d died, she’d ease her hold. It might buy me some time, a slim chance to breathe."

Helga’s eyes widened as she absorbed Esme’s confession, feeling every raw, jagged edge of the story.

Esme’s gaze turned distant as she spoke on, her lips pressing into a thin line. "I drove off that cliff. At the last moment, I opened the door and jumped. A miracle, maybe, but I managed to grab onto a stone jutting out from the hillside. And there, clinging on for dear life, I told myself to keep calm. But when I walked into that place and saw Ray..." Her voice trembled, the mask slipping briefly. "I saw his bruised cheek, the blue swelling around it... and my blood... it boiled like nothing I’d ever felt. I can’t even explain how Beom took over. It was as if he was a part of me, my silent rage given form."

Her tone hardened as she continued, a flicker of fire in her expression. "Yes, I ordered Beom to destroy the divine beasts. Why should it matter now? Maybe my life’s cut short because of it, but that’s fine."

Helga’s heart clenched, a pained look crossing her face as she realized the enormity of Esme’s actions. Those who praised the divine beasts as blessings had no understanding of the curse they brought. The power came at a brutal price—every time its strength was unleashed, the owner’s life would shorten. No one who wielded a divine beast’s power lived long enough to see old age, each use drawing them closer to an untimely death.

And Esme had used that power thrice now, each time at a great personal cost. Once, for Cain. A second time, when she was drugged. And now, a third. It was simply too much.

"Esme..." Helga’s voice was barely a whisper, her pain mirroring the burden Esme carried.

Esme’s gaze softened, her eyes distant, as if lost somewhere beyond the room’s edges.

"You know, Helga, I’ve ....", Esme bitted her lips