The Heiress's Comeback
Chapter 300: [ Volume 1] Chaper 300- Done for

Chapter 300: [ Volume 1] Chaper 300- Done for

Esme smirked, picking up a fork and slicing into the juicy steak. As she lifted it to her mouth, she caught Ray staring. His lips parted slightly, his hunger plain on his face, even as he tried to maintain his aloofness.

"Mm," Esme hummed, savoring the morsel as she chewed slowly. "Oh, Ray, this is so good. You’re really missing out."

Ray’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowing at her teasing. But when she reached for the pork, he finally broke.

Ray stood abruptly, his face flushed with anger, though his hands rested protectively on his stomach. "You! You’re over here eating while I’m angry? Really?" His voice was sharp, but there was a tremor of hunger behind it.

Esme paused mid-bite, her cheeks puffed out with food, and blinked innocently at him. After a dramatic swallow, she replied, "Well, what do you expect me to do? I went to the market, bought all these things just for you, and you refuse to eat. I can’t waste it, right?"

She reached for another spoonful, her casual tone fueling his frustration. Ray’s stomach betrayed him with another growl, loud and insistent. His hands twitched before he grabbed the plate from her hands, snatching the fork in the process.

"You!" he snapped, glaring at her, but his resolve crumbled as he shoved a piece of steak into his mouth. He chewed furiously, as if the food itself were the cause of his anger, while settling down on the edge of the bed.

Esme rested her chin on her palm, a triumphant smile playing on her lips as she watched him. The sight of him eating so voraciously warmed her heart, and she silently thanked the little life growing inside him. If it weren’t for their unborn child, she might have been left floundering, unsure of how to calm him.

As Ray polished off the plate, a flicker of realization crossed his face. He scowled faintly, muttering, "Damn it, I’m supposed to be mad at you."

Esme chuckled softly. "Another serving?" she asked sweetly, her voice laced with teasing.

Ray shot her a glare before pointing at his stomach. "It’s not me who wanted it, okay? It’s your damn child," he said sharply, emphasizing the words.

Esme smirked. "Oh, my damn child, huh?" She gestured dramatically. "Of course, his mother’s damn, so naturally her child is too, right?"

Ray, caught off guard, blinked at her before muttering a quiet "Hmm" as he nodded in agreement.

She laughed, shaking her head as she served him another plate, the atmosphere lighter now. The tension in the room faded, replaced by the gentle sounds of utensils clinking and the contented hum of someone enjoying a meal.

As Ray finished the last bite of his meal, Esme leaned forward, her gaze calm but probing. She reached over, gently placing the empty plate back onto the trolley. "Now, honey," she began, her tone sweet yet firm, "can you tell me why you were so angry earlier?"

Ray avoided her gaze, shifting uncomfortably. The memory of his tantrum, paired with the realization that he had just devoured the food she lovingly prepared, made his cheeks flush. He hesitated, looking everywhere but at her. "Well... Aron told me—" he started, faltering.

Esme’s brows furrowed slightly, her ears metaphorically perking up. Aron? That bastard? What nonsense has he been spreading now? She forced a gentle smile and tilted her head. "Yes, Aron. What did he say?"

Ray’s voice dropped lower with every word, his hesitation palpable. "Aron said... said that you were playing with the mers outside."

Esme’s calm exterior cracked for a moment, her eyes narrowing. "Playing with the mers?" she repeated, her voice deceptively soft.

Ray gulped, knowing he was treading dangerous waters. "And—" he hesitated again, fidgeting, "and riding a bike... and... showing people your body."

The room fell silent. Esme’s grim smile stretched unnaturally across her face, though her eyes burned with fury. Something within her snapped, and she stood abruptly, rolling her sleeves up with deliberate precision. Without a word, she grabbed the fruit knife from the bedside table and began marching toward the door.

Ray’s eyes widened in panic. He scrambled off the bed and grabbed her arm, tugging her back with surprising strength. "No! No, no, no! Where are you going?"

"To kill that bastard Aron," Esme declared coldly, her grip on the knife tightening.

Ray pulled harder, his voice frantic. "Wait! Stop! It’s not like that—I didn’t believe him!"

Esme halted, turning to look at him, her expression eerily calm but her smile sharp. "Oh? You didn’t believe him?" she asked sweetly, though the steel in her tone was unmistakable. "But wasn’t it you throwing a tantrum just now? Acting all angry and refusing to eat?"

Ray flinched at her words, his face reddening. "I—You’re saying I was throwing a tantrum?" he stammered, his voice defensive yet embarrassed.

Esme shook her head, the humor finally breaking through her grim facade. "No, no," she said with a playful lilt. "Not a tantrum. You were just being... cute earlier. Adorably so, actually."

Ray froze, his glare deepening. "Cute?" he repeated, his tone incredulous.

Esme couldn’t suppress the laughter bubbling in her throat. "Yes, my dear husband. Cute," she teased, setting the knife back on the table with exaggerated care. "Now, sit down before I really have to go deal with Aron. And next time, don’t let a fool like him ruin your mood—or my dinner."

Ray huffed, crossing his arms as he plopped back onto the bed. "I wasn’t cute," he muttered, though the faintest smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Esme grinned, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his temple, her earlier irritation melting away.

Esme leaned in, pulling Ray into a firm embrace. Her arms wrapped around him protectively, but her face betrayed a storm of emotions. She rested her chin on his shoulder, her expression soft for Ray’s sake, but her eyes gleamed with an intensity that could have cut steel.