The Heiress's Comeback
Chapter 278: [ Volume 1] Chaper 278- Media

Chapter 278: [ Volume 1] Chaper 278- Media

The whispers about Ray and Esme started quietly, a mere murmur that wove its way through the office like smoke, curling into every crevice until it became impossible to ignore. By midweek, the air buzzed with speculation, and every glance, every sidelong look, carried a weight of curiosity or judgment.

Esme began to feel the shift before she saw it. It started with subtle changes—the lingering gazes in the conference room, the way conversations paused as she entered a space. By the end of the week, it was undeniable. The shareholders who had previously been indifferent to her were no longer content to stand on neutral ground.

Some came forward, drawn by the magnetic confidence Esme exuded. They whispered their support, their alignment clear in the way they nodded approvingly during her presentations or casually mentioned their interest in her projects. These weren’t declarations—they were overtures, cautious but deliberate.

Esme welcomed them with sharp eyes and a knowing smile, silently marking the names of her new allies.

The office began to look at her differently—not with admiration, but with suspicion, disdain even. It wasn’t just the sharp glares or the way conversations abruptly stopped when she entered a room; it was the palpable shift in the air, the unspoken judgment hanging over her every move.

"She doesn’t deserve this," one shareholder muttered to another during a coffee break, their voices low but not low enough.

"She’s only here because of young masters mistakes," another chimed in, his tone dripping with contempt.

Esme overheard these comments in passing, but she never let them see her falter. Yet the weight of their doubts began to press against her, threatening to crack the composure she fought so hard to maintain.

The boardroom became a crucible of hostility. The once-neutral shareholders had taken sides—and most weren’t in her favor. Their questions weren’t inquiries; they were accusations wrapped in professional courtesy.

"Are you sure this strategy aligns with our long-term goals?" one board member asked, his tone laced with skepticism, his gaze fixed on her as if daring her to prove her worth.

Another nodded, chiming in, "Or is this just another impulsive move? We’ve seen enough of those lately."

Esme’s spine stiffened. She met their eyes one by one, refusing to let the disdain in their voices unsettle her. "If by impulsive, you mean strategic and forward-thinking, then yes. And as for long-term goals, perhaps you should read the projection analysis again," she said coldly, sliding the document toward them.

But even as she held her ground in meetings, Esme felt the walls closing in outside them. The whispers weren’t just confined to the boardroom anymore. They spread through the office like wildfire, infecting even the lower ranks.

"She’s not the real leader," someone muttered in the hallway.

"Ray’s just propping her up. She’s a placeholder at best," another voice added.

The worst part wasn’t just the gossip or the looks. It was the growing distance between her and the people she had once trusted. Allies turned away when she sought their counsel, their faces carefully blank, their loyalty now uncertain. The once-solid ground beneath her feet felt more like shifting sand with every passing day.

Even Ray’s presence, meant to be a source of strength, seemed to exacerbate the problem. His unwavering support was now seen as favoritism, his influence over the company tangled with her growing reputation as an undeserving figurehead.

"She’s not the real power here. We all know that," a senior shareholder declared during a private meeting she wasn’t invited to but heard about anyway. The words echoed in her mind long after the day ended.

Even though the shareholders were not entirely in Esme’s favor, they refrained from taking any drastic actions. Deep down, they were aware that Esme had been instrumental in stabilizing the company during turbulent times. The reality was that their power was limited, and with the power of attorney firmly in her grasp, no one could challenge her position.

Days passed, and on Esme’s third day back at the office, a storm broke loose—news that had been kept under wraps was suddenly leaked. It wasn’t long before the reporters caught wind of it, and the situation escalated swiftly.

A press conference was arranged with Esme to address the swirling rumors. The public’s curiosity had reached a fever pitch, with everyone desperate to confirm the shocking allegations: had the once-adored wife of the Aron brothers truly harmed the eldest brother and killed their child? Questions buzzed incessantly, and the reporters were prepared to pry every answer from Esme.

The day of the conference was no ordinary affair. It wasn’t just reporters in attendance—key players from across the industry were also present. What was supposed to be a press event felt more like a grand spectacle. In reality, it was a spectacle—a party, to be precise. The Aron family elders had orchestrated the event in a lavish party hall, using the guise of celebration to publicly oust Esme.

They had gone to great lengths, inviting every shareholder and important client, making it clear that they wanted Esme to feel cornered. It was as if they wanted her to believe everything was over. After all, in a society where mers held little standing, the accusations against her—of harming her own husband and child—were damning. The sheer absurdity of the situation made it harder for anyone to stand by her.

But this was not just about morality or justice; it was about power. In a world where image mattered more than truth, this public humiliation was a calculated move. It wasn’t so much about right or wrong but about the opportunity to destroy a competitor. For these people, it wasn’t personal—it was business. And they would stop at nothing to achieve their aims.

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The Grand Hall pulsed with unspoken tension, a lavish battlefield where every guest held their weapon of choice—a glass of sparkling juice, champagne, or wine.

Waiters moved like shadows, weaving through the crowd with trays that seemed to glint under the dazzling chandeliers.