The Heiress's Comeback-Chapter 313: [ Volume 1] Chaper - Paint as criminals

Servants gathered discreetly at the edges of the room, their faces full of pity and sympathy for the "grieving widow." Esme’s fingers grazed the frame, her movements slow and deliberate, as though lost in an emotional trance.

Her hand glided over Ray’s face in the photo, her expression somber. But inside, her thoughts were an entirely different story. Oh my God, my husband looks so cute in this picture. What did I do to deserve someone so adorable? she gushed internally.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she traced the photo, an effect the servants misinterpreted as overwhelming sadness. In truth, Esme’s mind was racing with excitement. What should I name the baby? she mused. If it’s a boy, something strong but cute. And if it’s a girl—oh, it doesn’t matter! They’re my baby, and I’ll love them no matter what!

Outwardly, her eyes glistened with unshed tears, convincing anyone watching that she was drowning in sorrow. Inside, however, she was practically bouncing. Ah, the thought of them calling me Mama... Her heart raced. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Kai, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow at her uncharacteristic stillness, but he quickly dismissed it as part of her act.

Meanwhile, Esme’s thoughts briefly shifted to her other husbands. I love them all equally, she reminded herself. But a faint grimace crossed her mind when she recalled her last visit to Kai’s study. She had gone in to cheer him up, only for him to throw her out with a sharp warning. If you dare to disturb me again, I’ll toss you off the fifth-floor balcony! he had snapped.

Esme sighed inwardly. Kai is so cold-blooded when he’s busy. Then there was Jay—her sweet, affectionate husband who had once nearly thrown acid at her by accident during one of his experiments. The memory still made her shudder. It wasn’t the thought of disfigurement that scared her; it was the possibility of losing the spark in her husbands’ eyes when they looked at her. How could I let them down like that?

Esme’s mind snapped back to the present as a servant sniffled softly, clearly moved by the sight of her supposed anguish. Esme pressed her hand to her chest, as though trying to contain her "grief," and whispered in a shaky voice, "Ray... why did you leave me?"

Esme, still in her grief-stricken act, had been methodically running her fingers over the picture of her and Ray, the servants’ pitying glances fueling the narrative she projected. But her internal monologue was cut short by the approach of a servant.

The stillness was interrupted by the hesitant steps of a servant, who stopped a few paces from Esme and bowed slightly. "Ma’am," the servant said softly, her voice trembling as if afraid of disturbing the heavy atmosphere.

Esme lifted her head slowly, her expression void of emotion save for the redness of her tear-filled eyes. "Yes?" she asked, her voice hoarse but calm, a fragile thread holding her composure together.

"The officer requests your presence," the servant said with measured caution.

Esme’s lips tightened into a thin line as her gaze shifted to the figures now entering the room. Officer Katrina was the first to step inside, her movements deliberate and composed. Her sharp eyes scanned the room, a polite smile playing on her lips. Behind her was Kaira, the younger officer with an equally intense gaze, though she remained silent as Katrina took the lead.

Esme rose with a grace that defied the weight she carried, motioning toward the upholstered sofas. "Please, take a seat," she said, her tone formal yet distant.

Katrina’s smile widened as she accepted the invitation, settling into the plush cushions with a practiced ease. "Thank you, Ms. Esme," she said, her voice carrying a tone of familiarity that bordered on insolence. "I hope we’re not intruding during such a delicate time."

Esme’s eyes narrowed, her tone cold as ice. "Why are you here, Officer? Surely you didn’t come to offer condolences."

Katrina tilted her head, unbothered by the sharpness of Esme’s words. "Straight to the point. I like that," she said with a smirk before her gaze shifted toward Ryan, who was seated in the far corner of the room. His disheveled appearance and red-rimmed eyes made him look like a man on the brink of collapse, his usually composed demeanor shattered.

"Ah," Katrina mused, her tone light and conversational. "It seems the entire family is here. How... convenient."

Esme’s jaw clenched, her fingers curling slightly into her lap. "Ms. Katrina, if you have a purpose for being here, I suggest you get to it," she said, her voice sharp enough to cut through the tension in the room.

Katrina’s smile didn’t falter as her gaze returned to Esme. "We’re actually not here for you, Ms. Esme," she said casually. "We’re here to speak with Mr. Ryan."

Ryan, who had been trying to blend into the background, froze. His head snapped up, his eyes wide and wary.

His eyes were red and puffy, a sight that would make anyone assume he’d been up all night, crying over something serious. But the truth? If anyone were to guess, they’d probably think he was giving his all for his brother—maybe some heroic tale or a family drama.

Yet, Esme knew the real reason. There they were, all of them—Ryan, the brothers, glued to the screen, a bowl of snacks forgotten in their laps as they watched a tragic animated story unfold. And what was the cause of all this? A wife cheating on her husband.

The horror, the tears. But not a word was spoken about it. After all, Esme wasn’t one to judge. She’d also indulged in her own guilty pleasure—funny animes that made her laugh so hard, her eyes were just as red.

"Mr. Ryan," Katrina said, leaning forward slightly, "may I see your watch?"

Ryan blinked, his confusion evident. "My watch?" he repeated, his voice hoarse from what seemed to be a long bout of crying.

"Yes," Katrina said, gesturing toward his wrist. "The smartwatch you’re wearing."