The Heiress's Comeback
Chapter 90: [Volume 1] - 90- beyond ugly.

Chapter 90: [Volume 1] Chapter 90- beyond ugly.

Esme’s sharp eyes scanned the room, irritation clear on her face. "Do you really think I’d just hire someone because they’re a friend? Do you take me for a fool?" Her voice cut through the murmurs, and her gaze settled on the elders, daring them to answer.

Everyone turned to look at Esme, their eyes asking, "Isn’t that true?" The air felt heavy with anticipation, and Esme shifted, with irritation.

She let out a short, frustrated laugh before raising her voice. "Yes, his name is Prince. And while he might be an orphan, let me make one thing clear—he’s not some random nobody. He graduated from an international university, one of the most prestigious ones, mind you. He was one of the top secretaries, working in big companies all over the world."

Esme paused, her gaze hardening. "And for the record, I didn’t hire him as a butler because I was doing him a favor. He came to me after he beat my friend—my friend, mind you—who begged me to give him a place to stay. So I fooled him, yes, but only because I was asked to protect him. Prince isn’t even a butler here. He’s a guest, nothing more."

Her words hung in the air, silencing the room. The elders, who had been so confident a moment before, now seemed taken aback, exchanging uncertain glances.

One of the officers, who had been quietly listening, stepped forward. His voice was neutral, though a hint of surprise lingered. "So you’re saying he’s not actually employed by you? Just a guest?"

Esme crossed her arms, her expression unyielding. "Exactly. He’s a guest in this house, and nothing more."

The officers rubbed their foreheads, a mix of confusion and exhaustion weighing on them. They had no desire to get tangled up in the affairs of the rich. Half the time, they couldn’t even guess what was going on in the mind of a wealthy woman like this. One moment, they’d be arguing with family members, and the next, they’d call the officers as if it were routine. Sometimes, they were even forced to step in and save these families from each other. Trying to reason with these people felt like a pointless task.

After some formal questioning, the officers bowed their heads and left, not wanting to linger any longer. The elders were officially banned from entering the house or meeting with any of Aron brothers.

After the officers left, the room fell into an awkward silence. Aron, who had been about to make his exit, was stopped by Ray’s firm voice. "Wait a minute," Ray said, his tone serious. The sudden shift in his demeanor caught everyone off guard. Even Esme, who had been preparing to leave, paused and turned her gaze toward him, just as Aron did.

With a slightly flushed face, Ray spoke, "My wife is beautiful and strong, so don’t you dare call her that again." The words hit like a declaration, surprising Esme as she looked at him in disbelief.

Before she could react, Jay chimed in, "Yes, my wife is beautiful too, and even if she were the last person on earth, I would marry her without hesitation."

Esme was left speechless, unsure whether to feel insulted or flattered. Were they defending her or just making a spectacle? The confusion lingered as she stood there, trying to make sense of it all.

Aron Hearing the conversation around him, he looked at them with suspicion, his expression exaggerated, as if putting on a show. Slowly, he walked up, raised his palm, and stared at his fingers.

Esme, noticing the odd gesture, couldn’t help but ask in a blunt tone, "What are you doing? What are you checking?"

She knew this mer—if there was one thing this mer excelled at, it was either causing her trouble or finding new ways to insult her. She didn’t expect anything different now.

Without turning around, his eyes stayed focused on Ray’s hands, and he muttered, "I heard that when you were poisoned, your fingernail was the first to turn blue."

Esme’s gut tightened. She knew where this was going—another insult aimed at her, no doubt. Her patience was wearing thin, but she stayed silent, waiting for the inevitable.

He glanced from Ray’s fingernails back to his face, adding with exaggerated care, "No, your eyes aren’t red, your face hasn’t gone pale, and your fingernails aren’t blue."

Ray, too, looked confused, unsure how to respond. But Esme could feel her temper rising, a sudden urge to smack this man for his ridiculous antics building inside her. His smugness, the way he toyed with the situation, made her blood boil.

With a serious expression, Aron looked at Ray and said, "Then what type of poison does this woman feed you?"

The room fell silent again, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Esme’s eyes widened, her jaw tightening as she realized Aron had taken his teasing to another level. It wasn’t just an insult this time—it was a pointed jab, wrapped in sarcasm. She could feel her patience slipping.

Ray, caught off guard, blinked a few times before responding. "What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice confused but edged with frustration.

Esme, however, didn’t wait for the answer. She stepped forward, her voice sharp. "I don’t need to feed anyone poison, Aron," she snapped. "But if you keep talking, you might find out how much patience I have left."

"Only you are blind enough not to see my beauty," Esme shot back, her frustration visible as her arms gestured in disbelief.

Aron responded with a mocking laugh, "Ha! Ha! Ha!" He looked Esme up and down with disdain, then turned his head dismissively, still laughing. The condescending sound grated on her nerves, pushing her closer to losing her temper.

Esme’s irritation bubbled over. "Of course, you’re the only one blind enough to marry that helga who doesn’t even know how to show an expression! And you have the nerve to call me ugly?"