The Heiress's Comeback-Chapter 373: [ Volume 1] Chaper - Hatred from parents

Her words sent shivers down spines, and Ray’s hand instinctively reached for the laptop, as though willing her to stop. But Esme’s voice only grew colder.

"It’s not just about the deaths," she said, her lips curling into a grim line. "It’s about how. These aren’t accidents. They’re not coincidences. Every death is orchestrated. A car crash. A sudden illness. An explosion that leaves nothing behind. And when they die, their beasts remain untouched. It’s as if the beasts are the endgame, but I can’t tell you why. Not yet."

Esme paused, her voice softening to a whisper that seemed to reach into the depths of their souls. "But here’s what truly broke me. The organization doesn’t work alone. They infiltrate. They manipulate. They send people—beloveds, they call them—into the lives of beast owners. These beloveds are charming, trustworthy, irresistible. They make the beast owners depend on them, love them. And when the time comes, they deliver the fatal blow, all while holding their victim’s hand."

The air in the room felt like it had been sucked out, leaving a void of disbelief and dread. Esme’s eyes, filled with anguish, burned through the screen.

"You know," Esme began, her voice trembling with a mix of vulnerability and determination. Her gaze softened, but the fire burning within her eyes was unmistakable. "Before meeting you all, marriage... family... those things were never in my plans. I couldn’t even dream of something so normal, so peaceful."

Her hand ran through her hair, and for a brief moment, she seemed lost in thought. Then she continued, her voice steadier. "But when I stepped out of that room, after learning the truth about my father, I was terrified. Not just of him, but of myself. Knowing that he played my mother... that he used her like a pawn... it shook me to my core."

She paused, the weight of her words sinking in. "At the time, I didn’t even know that the woman who raised me wasn’t my real mother. That the woman who brought me into this world died in an accident. But now, knowing the truth... it’s horrifying. And sometimes, late at night, I can’t help but wonder—did my father have a hand in her death? Could he have been the reason she’s gone?"

Her voice cracked, and she looked away, gripping the edge of the table as if holding herself together. "For the longest time, I believed I was cursed. That I was a murderer’s child. That his sins were mine to bear. I hated him, hated myself. But more than anything, I hated that organization. I wanted to destroy them—to rip them apart with my own hands."

Esme’s tone shifted, growing darker. "And then, they found me. Or maybe, they decided it was time to act. Last year, in the Valhale family office, I saw someone—a man who attacked me with a python. The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew. The way he moved, the way he carried himself... there was no doubt in my mind. That man was my father."

Her fists clenched, her knuckles white. "How did I know? Because of the smell. Lilies. That scent was always with him when I was a child. Even if his face has faded from my memory, that smell... that connection... it’s burned into my soul. And the way he looked at me, the way he beat me mercilessly but refused to kill me... I understood then."

She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a near whisper, heavy with contempt. "It wasn’t fatherly love that spared me. It was the organization. They don’t have the power to kill me. Not yet."

Esme’s eyes darted to the side as if recalling something distant, painful. "That’s when I started asking why. If they wanted me dead, they could have done it. But then I realized—I still have five chances left. Five more times to use my power. Don’t ask how I used the first ten; let’s just say... special circumstances called for special actions."

Her lips curled into a bitter smile as she reached for something out of frame, pulling it into view—a small, weathered pen drive. "But there’s more. Someone, someone who must have known they were running out of time, left me a gift. Summer’s last file, stored in this pen drive, held a secret. A way to break free from their cycle."

She stared at the pen drive, her expression softening into something almost hopeful. "There’s a way to transfer a beast’s power—without death. Not to them, not to their puppets, but to a blood relative. The power isn’t whole; only half of it can pass on. But it’s enough. Enough to keep the beast alive, enough to keep their chains from tightening."

Esme’s expression shifted, her voice steady but carrying an underlying weight. "You see, I’ve discovered something even more groundbreaking about beast powers. We don’t have to wait for the owner to die to pass them on. The connection can be shared while the owner is still alive. It’s not complete, of course—not the full power—but enough. Enough to forge a bond between the original owner and a new one, to let them share that strength, and more importantly, to protect the person they choose to pass it to."

She paused, her eyes scanning the faces around her, searching for understanding. "This changes everything. The organization’s plans, their cycle of control—it’s not as unbreakable as they’d like us to believe. This... sharing of power, it’s their weakness, the flaw in their system. It’s why they’re so desperate to control us, to eliminate anyone who steps outside their design."

Taking a deep breath, Esme glanced at her hands, her voice softening. "I also found out more about your father. Things that... that don’t add up. And then, when i found that hidden compartment..."

Her voice faltered, and her eyes darkened as if she were recalling the memory. "When I saw that compartment for the first time, I was shocked. Completely frozen. Why would such a place exist? A secret room, stocked to the brim with food and supplies. It wasn’t just a pantry—it was a refuge. A place designed to keep someone alive, hidden away from the world."