The Heiress's Comeback
Chapter 93: [Volume 1] - 93- Trust these young masters.

Chapter 93: [Volume 1] Chapter 93- Trust these young masters.

With a sudden burst of energy, she picked Aron up effortlessly and tossed him onto the bed. Before he could react, she sprang onto him, a playful glint in her eyes.

She leaned down, pressing her lips against his in a tight, fervent kiss, her laughter mingling with the surprise on his face. The tension from outside faded away, replaced by the warmth of their moment, as if the world beyond the door no longer existed.

On the other side, Esme was playing with the child, a soft smile on her face. Aron and his brothers watched, slightly surprised by the scene.

Kai, with a somewhat troubled yet amused tone, asked, "Do you like children?"

Esme glanced up at him, her smile lingering. "No."

Aron’s brothers exchanged confused glances. Ray, still perplexed, asked, "If you don’t like children, why do you look so happy playing with one?"

Without missing a beat, Esme picked the child up again and gently rubbed his cheek. "I don’t like children in general, but I do like a child who belongs to someone I care about. Other children are too much trouble," she said with a slight chuckle, "but this one... I cherish because he belongs to someone I love." She paused, her gaze softening as she added, "After all, I am his godmother."

With that, Esme smiled warmly at the child, and as if he understood her words, the baby beamed back at her, the connection between them clear and pure.

"Which means you like other children if they’re not troublesome?" Jay asked, his voice filled with curiosity.

Esme’s smile faded slightly as she responded, "No."

As the child playfully grabbed her hand, she shook it lightly, almost affectionately, but her tone remained thoughtful. "I don’t like children. Because you get attached to them so quickly... and that hurts. The truth is, they can never really belong to you."

Aron’s brothers exchanged surprised glances. This was the first time they had heard Esme express something so profound. Her words carried a deeper meaning—she wasn’t rejecting the idea of children entirely. Rather, she was admitting that she feared getting too close, forming connections that would make it painful when the inevitable parting came.

They understood clearly now. Esme wasn’t just talking about children—she was hinting at something much deeper. She avoided getting attached to people, not because she didn’t care, but because she was protecting herself from the heartache that came with growing fond of something—or someone—she couldn’t keep.

....

After half an hour, Helga and Aron finally came down. Helga, as usual, was upright and composed, while Aron remained unusually silent. The shift in atmosphere was palpable as the silence lingered in the hall, even after Aron’s arrival.

Kai, Ray, and Jay exchanged glances before quickly scanning Aron from head to toe, searching for any signs of injury. Nothing seemed out of place—except for one glaring difference. His lips. They were noticeably red and slightly swollen, and if they looked closely, they could spot a few faint red marks peeking out from beneath his collar.

The brothers raised their eyebrows, all silently drawing the same conclusion, though no one dared to voice it.

Helga took a deep breath, her composure returning, and addressed the room. "Esme, young masters, I’m truly sorry for all the trouble my husband has caused you."

Aron, pouting like a child, quickly interjected, "When did I trouble anyone?"

Helga turned and gave him a look—calm, indifferent, yet somehow commanding. The moment their eyes met, Aron fell silent, not daring to say another word.

Aron brothers, stunned, stared at him in disbelief. Was this really happening? Could someone actually make Aron stop talking?

Ray, ever the polite one, waved his hands hurriedly. "No, no, it’s fine! He didn’t cause any trouble at all."

But before anyone could relax, Esme chimed in with a smirk. "Oh, he absolutely did. He irritated me to no end. I’m too tired to even call him out anymore."

Aron’s brothers turned to Esme with shy, embarrassed expressions, wondering how she could be so blunt. Couldn’t she keep her mouth shut? Didn’t she know when to speak and when to just let things go?

...

At night, Esme sat in her study, immersed in her work, the soft glow of her laptop lighting up the room. A knock on the door interrupted her focus. Pausing her work, Esme turned her head toward the door. "Come in," she called out.

Helga entered, still dressed in her formal clothes from the day, looking as composed as ever. Noticing this, Esme casually shut her laptop and turned to face her fully. "Come in," she repeated, more softly this time.

Helga closed the door behind her and stepped further into the room. "I need to talk to you about something... President."

Esme smiled knowingly, leaning back in her chair. "When have I ever stopped you?" she teased, picking up a file from her desk and casually flipping through its pages, as if their conversation was just another part of her nightly routine.

Helga hesitated for a moment, standing quietly, her expression slightly more serious than usual.

Seeing Helga’s unusually serious expression, Esme closed her file and clasped her hands together, her gaze now focused entirely on her. "What’s the matter, Helga? You know you can speak freely. If something’s bothering you, just say it."

Helga bit her lip, glancing briefly away before locking eyes with Esme again. "Esme," she began, her voice wavering slightly. "Today, what I’m going to ask you is both as your secretary and as your friend."

Esme tilted her head, listening intently as Helga continued, "Do you really believe in these guys?"

Hearing her name spoken so seriously, Esme’s demeanor shifted. Whenever Helga used that tone, it was never casual. "But what do you mean by trust?" Esme asked, her voice confused yet knowing, sensing what Helga was truly hinting at.

Helga clenched her fists, as if steadying herself. "I’m talking about the young masters of Aron group. Do you really trust them?"

Esme leaned back slightly, the weight of the question hanging between them. She had expected this conversation to come up sooner or later.