The Heiress's Comeback
Chapter 86: [Volume 1] - 86- Mistress.

Chapter 86: [Volume 1] Chapter 86- Mistress.

Just as Esme had predicted, the storm arrived the next day. The heavy doors swung open with a harsh creak, the gust of wind rushing in, unsettling the quiet of the room. Around her, the kai , ray and jay who were sitting on the sofas remained focused, absorbed in their papers. They barely looked up, save for a few glances of mild curiosity.

Esme, sitting calmly with a cup of coffee in hand, barely flinched as the doors were pushed open. Her expression remained serene, as though the chaos brewing around her was nothing but background noise. The elders entered with an air of self-importance, their faces flushed with anger, outwardly exuding confidence that didn’t quite match their last appearance.

"How dare you!" one of them shouted, their voices booming from the upper landing as they descended the stairs, their footsteps echoing in the grand room. The aron brothers who had been present looked up from their tasks, startled by the intrusion, confusion flickering in their eyes. These elders, who had last insulted them all not even five days ago, had returned. Why now?

Esme, however, remained unfazed, sipping her coffee leisurely, her gaze steady and cool. She made no attempt to stand or acknowledge their presence. Her silence was deliberate, dismissive. The elders, now halfway down the stairs, faltered at the sight of her calm. They had expected fury, perhaps panic—anything but this indifferent demeanor.

One elder’s face twisted in disbelief. "What type of—" he began, his words catching in his throat as Esme finally raised her eyes to meet his. Her gaze was shuttered, unreadable, as though they were beneath her notice.

The weight of her silence was heavier than any words she could have spoken. It sent a clear message: she didn’t care for their bravado, and she wasn’t intimidated by their presence.

"What type of behavior is this?!" the elder bellowed, his face flushed with indignation. He was the same one who had nearly been bitten by Esme the last time, and the memory clearly still stung. His anger crackled in the air like static before a storm.

Esme, however, remained utterly composed. She placed her cup of tea down on the table with a slow, deliberate motion, a small smile curling on her lips. She didn’t even glance at the elder as she spoke, her tone cold but laced with amusement.

"Who the hell made this coffee?" she suddenly shouted, her voice sharp and cutting through the tension in the room like a blade.

The elder blinked in confusion, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected question. Around the room, people exchanged bewildered glances, unsure of what to make of the sudden shift.

A servant rushed forward, breathless and wide-eyed. "I-I did, Madam," she stammered, clearly flustered.

Esme finally looked up, locking eyes with the elder who had shouted at her. Her smile deepened, but there was something unnerving in it—like a predator toying with its prey.

"This coffee is as bitter as your shouting," she remarked, her words dripping with sarcasm, before shifting her gaze to the trembling servant. "Make it again. This time, sweeter."

Everyone in the hall went silent, the atmosphere thick with tension. Even the servant stood frozen, her eyes wide in disbelief. She wanted to ask, When the hell did I shout? but knew that voicing her confusion would be pointless. The unspoken rules of the room dictated silence in the face of Esme’s authority.

Lowering her head, the servant quietly retreated, slipping back inside to escape the weight of the moment. The elders exchanged uneasy glances, their bravado faltering in the face of Esme’s unwavering calm.

As the door closed behind the servant, Esme leaned back in her chair, a satisfied smile still playing on her lips. The silence stretched on, filled only by the soft sound of the storm outside, echoing the brewing chaos within Aron House.

After a moment, the servant returned with the coffee, her hands slightly trembling. Esme raised an eyebrow, impressed by how quickly it had arrived. She accepted the cup, taking a sip, and her expression shifted to one of delight.

The elders, watching closely, were momentarily dumbfounded by her nonchalance. They exchanged glances, the tension in the air thickening as they remembered the gravity of their visit.

"Do you even know what you did?" one of the elders shouted, his voice echoing in the silent hall.

Esme looked down at her coffee, then around with a feigned puzzled gaze. "Yeah, I asked them to add sugar in it."

The elder’s frustration deepened, his mouth slightly agape. "I’m not asking about the coffee! I’m asking if you know what you’ve done in this house!"

Esme scratched her cheek, adopting a thoughtful expression. "Oh, right! I remember. I ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I wasn’t off studying. My car is parked outside with my husbands in front of you guys. I sleep in this house, I bathe, and—yes, even poo...."

The room fell into stunned silence as her bluntness sank in.

"Enough!" the elder snapped, regaining some composure. "I’m not asking what this is. I’m asking what you’re doing in our house! How dare you bring a mistress inside?"

Esme’s eyes narrowed, her playful demeanor shifting into something sharper. "A mistress? Well, that’s something new," she replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

The elder faltered, caught off guard by her response. "You think this is a joke?"

Esme leaned back, crossing her arms with a smirk. "You’re the ones who seem confused. Maybe it’s time you learned what’s really happening in your own house."

"Excuse me. First thing, this is my house," Esme began, her voice filled with authority.

And her bright smile that did not reaching her eyes. "Second, it’s not your house because this isn’t public property. It’s private property, under my husband’s name. Legally, as their wife, it’s also under my name. Now, can you tell me? Who gave you the right to barge in here?"

The elder’s face paled as he met her steely gaze, realizing the power dynamics had shifted.