The Heiress's Comeback-Chapter 37: [Volume 1] - - Misunderstanding again.

Her words were blunt, but the irritation in them was unmistakable. Jay smirked, closing his file with a light thud and stretching his arms overhead with a lazy grin. "No, not yet," he replied, his voice playful, as if trying to provoke her further.

Esme finally lifted her eyes, her brow arched ever so slightly. "What do you want now?" she asked, her patience clearly running thin.

Jay, leaning back against the headboard, folded his arms over his chest with a smirk that only grew wider. "I was just wondering... how is it that you don’t look a bit like the Valhale family at all? Not even a little?"

Esme’s eyes narrowed, though she kept her face composed, a mask of calm that belied the turmoil brewing inside. Jay’s seemingly innocuous remark had struck deeper than she’d ever admit. It was true—she had always been aware of it. Despite the countless reports, documents, and fake narratives constructed to solidify her connection to the Valhale family, there was an undeniable truth she couldn’t escape.

She didn’t resemble any of them. Not even her supposed father, Mr. Valhale.

That thought, once again resurfacing, sent an unsettling ripple through her mind. It was something she had pushed to the very edges of her consciousness for years. Yet Jay, with his playful, carefree attitude, had unknowingly brought it all crashing back into her focus.

It wasn’t just about appearances. The reports, the carefully crafted impersonation—all of it had been scrutinized. Even before she became entangled in their schemes, tests were conducted. Ethan, Mr. Valhale’s most trusted advisor, had orchestrated a series of paternal tests. They had done everything to ensure the truth, or at least, the appearance of it. Every time, the results came back the same—undeniable proof that Esme was the daughter of Mr. Valhale. That she was blood.

But still, doubt lingered. She didn’t feel it. The connection to the family felt...hollow. Even the innate specialties passed down through the Valhale bloodline, the gifts that only their true descendants could wield, were a confusing affirmation. The bloodline had chosen her. That much was undeniable. The powers she possessed, unique and revered, were all the evidence needed to claim her heritage.

So why did she feel this way?

The more Esme thought about it, the more confused she became. And now, Jay’s teasing had opened the door to questions she didn’t have answers for. Not really.

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She was too bewildered, too wrapped up in her thoughts to even attempt a response. What could she say, anyway? That she, too, didn’t feel like she belonged to the Valhale family despite everything?

Her silence didn’t go unnoticed. Kai and Ray exchanged glances, sensing the shift in her mood. Jay, on the other hand, continued to observe her, the playful glint in his eyes slowly fading as he realized his comment had struck a nerve. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

Esme forced herself to regain her composure, clearing her throat as she averted her gaze. "I—" she started, her voice faltering before she could finish.

No, she couldn’t let this get to her. Not now. Not when there was so much at stake.

Pushing her swirling thoughts aside, she straightened her shoulders and focused on the task at hand, determined not to let her internal conflict show any further. This wasn’t the time to unravel, not in front of them.

"I have work to finish," she said, her voice colder than before, hoping to deflect any further probing. The brothers, sensing her shift in tone, didn’t push further.

For now, at least, the conversation was over. But the questions it stirred in Esme’s mind? Those would linger much longer.

...

Knock knock

"Masters," the servant’s voice was soft but insistent as she knocked on the door again. The Aron brothers, who were all sprawled across the bed, stirred in their sleep, while Esme, who had fallen asleep on the couch, shot awake at the sound. Panic gripped her as she realized how late they’d worked into the night, leaving them all completely unprepared for an early morning visit.

Still half-asleep, Esme sat up quickly, her heart racing. She glanced toward the door, eyes wide in alarm. If the servant knocked again and they didn’t respond, she would open the door herself, which was the last thing they needed.

"Master?" The servant called again, her confusion evident. This time, Esme moved swiftly, her body responding before her mind had even fully caught up. She leaped from the couch, grabbing the blanket and pillow she’d used and stuffing them hastily under the bed.

Meanwhile, the Aron brothers scrambled out of their tangled sheets. Important documents, the files they’d been working on late into the night, were scattered across the bed. Without a word, they moved in unison, frantically shoving the papers beneath the covers, trying to hide every trace of their late-night work.

The servant, hearing no response, stood outside the door with a puzzled look, raising her hand for one final knock. Just as her knuckles were about to make contact, the door swung open.

As Esme—now Rose Reinguard—opened the door, the sight that greeted the servant was nothing short of scandalous. Esme was sweating profusely, her first two buttons undone, exposing her collarbone. She tried to catch her breath, wiping at her forehead as if that could erase the chaos of the last few moments. Behind her, the Aron brothers were also drenched in sweat, sitting awkwardly beneath a crumpled blanket, their faces flushed deep red. The entire room looked like a scene from a different kind of late-night affair altogether.

The servant’s face turned an unmistakable shade of crimson as she took in the sight before her. She quickly averted her eyes, mumbling, "I apologize for... disturbing you, Master." She hesitated before adding, "I came after a while..." Her voice trailed off as she clearly struggled to maintain her composure.

Esme’s eyes widened in horror as she realized what the servant was insinuating.

It was clear from the servant’s flushed expression and the knowing smile on her lips that she had misunderstood the situation completely.