The Heiress's Comeback
Chapter 252: [ Volume 1] Chaper 252- Ruining everything.

Chapter 252: [ Volume 1] Chaper 252- Ruining everything.

Each morning, before leaving for work, she would gently massage Ray’s feet, kneading the tense muscles with a tenderness that only deepened her bond with him.

She’d trace gentle circles into his skin, easing the aches and soothing him back into a relaxed state. And every night before bed, she’d repeat the massage, not minding how tired she was or how little sleep she would end up getting. It was all worth it to see Ray’s face soften, his breathing steadying as the pain ebbed away, and a small, grateful smile gracing his lips.

In these simple acts, Esme found a new purpose. The love she poured into these moments became a balm for her own fears, a quiet assurance that, together, they would protect this delicate, precious life. It wasn’t just for the baby, or even for Ray—these small, caring rituals wove their lives closer together, grounding her in a love she hadn’t expected but had now become the center of her world.

But Esme wasn’t just changing her home; she was fortifying it. Quietly, and with almost surgical precision, she had set her sights on Ray’s grandfather, the silent tyrant who had claimed a grip on the family that he wasn’t entitled to. It wasn’t enough for her to protect Ray’s comfort within the walls of their home. She needed to ensure that every last shadow lurking around their family would fall away, leaving only a clean slate for Ray, their child, and his brothers.

After Ray’s mother passed, the official authority over the family’s estate went to Ray and his brothers, yet their grandfather had wormed his way into the power vacuum, turning the old house into a stronghold. Esme knew this wasn’t something that could be solved with a confrontation; it required finesse, a game of shadows, and a subtle snipping away of his influence.

So, she moved with a quiet, lethal grace. She assigned spies, people she could trust completely, to report on his activities, allies, and weaknesses. Her goal wasn’t simply to strip him of power but to take away his support, piece by piece, until he found himself isolated. She started small, shifting legal ownerships of minor properties, restructuring shares, chipping away at his networks one by one until the old man would barely know what he had lost.

But Esme knew how to cloak her movements. She acted so subtly that even Ray didn’t realize the extent of what she was doing. The brothers might have noticed that their names were appearing on titles and properties that had once belonged to their grandfather, but they had no idea Esme was the architect behind the shift.

With each small victory, Esme felt a quiet thrill, a satisfaction that went beyond the usual domestic duties. She wasn’t just fighting for her family; she was taking a seat at the table, crafting a legacy of her own.

Every morning, she would go about her routine with the family: cooking Ray’s meals, soothing his worries, and massaging his feet, the image of the devoted wife and mother. But beneath that serene smile, she was more than just the caretaker. She was the shield, the unseen protector who would ensure that Ray, their child, and his brothers would live free of the grandfather’s hold.

In the quiet hours, when Ray’s grandfather felt his grip loosening without understanding why, Esme would allow herself a rare, satisfied smile. It wasn’t enough to simply love Ray; she was building a life with him, one where no ghosts from the past could ever reach them again.

In the dimly lit, shadowed corners of the old mansion, Ray’s grandfather, Mr. Aron—or rather, Lord Aron, as he demanded to be called now—sat alone, his steely gaze locked onto a framed photograph. It was a portrait of Ray’s mother, her smile preserved timelessly, as if mocking the weight of the burdens her father now bore. She seemed untouched, her happiness frozen in that captured moment, untouched by the drama unspooling in her father’s aging hands.

His reverie was broken by a sharp, disapproving voice from behind him. "Lord, are you just going to let that woman ruin everything?" The bitterness in the tone was unmistakable, laced with resentment and urgency.

Another voice chimed in, this time edged with even sharper discontent. "How can we allow her to have such free rein? She’s tearing down everything we built, and those foolish grandsons of yours are too blind to see it. We need to teach her a lesson before it’s too late."

Lord Aron didn’t respond immediately. He only continued to gaze at his daughter’s photograph, his silence as deliberate as it was unsettling. The two figures behind him, once so accustomed to his quick, commanding decisions, grew impatient. Finally, one of them dared to press him again, their voice wavering with the danger of questioning his authority. "Mr. Aron—"

He turned at last, his expression dark and severe. "Is that how you address me?" he thundered, his voice cold as iron. "How many times must I tell you—I am no longer ’Mr. Aron’ to you. I am your Lord. And the titles, the wealth, all of it—it now belongs to my grandsons. They are the future, whether you like it or not."

The two shadows before him fell silent, chafing under his rebuke but wisely refraining from speaking again. The older of the two, a woman who had been in his service for decades, spoke next, her tone laced with frustration and desperation. "Forgive me, Lord, but you’re only saying this because you’re sentimental. That woman is clever, ruthless. She’s using your grandsons’ love and loyalty to dismantle everything. And yet you let her, all because of some misplaced affection. But think of us, of your loyal servants. What will happen to us if she succeeds?"

Lord Aron held her gaze, his face unreadable, yet a dark, brooding anger flickered beneath his calm exterior. He could feel the desperation in their voices, the loyalty they had sworn to him now fraying at the edges as they faced the prospect of their world crumbling at the hands of this newcomer—Esme.