The Heiress's Comeback-Chapter 79: [Volume 1] - - First priority.

"What are you doing here, Aron?" she snapped, her irritation finally boiling over.

[A/N: Yes, it’s the same Aron from Chapter 5, Helga’s husband.]

The mer—unfazed and still grinning—leaned casually against the desk, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, Esme," he said smoothly, "you didn’t think I’d let you handle all this on your own, did you?"

Esme’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. "You’re interfering," she hissed, her voice low but filled with frustration.

The mer just smirked, clearly enjoying her anger. "Interfering? No, love," he said with a wink. "I’m helping. Even if you won’t admit it."

"Helping, huh?" Esme shot back, her voice tinged with barely contained anger. She took a few deliberate steps, pacing from one side of the room to the other, attempting to keep herself in check. She turned and faced Aron, her eyes flashing with frustration.

"What on earth do you mean by that? You just want to ruin my plan, is that it? Since when have you ever started helping me, huh?"

Aron leaned casually against the desk, his signature smirk still plastered on his face. He seemed completely unfazed by her outburst, even amused by it.

"So, what do you want me to do, Esme?" he asked, his tone light but with an edge. "Leave my wife to do all the work so she collapses again? And then, when she can’t handle it, who’s going to take care of my child, huh?"

Esme blinked, her face contorting with disbelief at his words.

" Excuse me? " Her voice went up a pitch, as though she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

"It was you who gave birth to that child, Aron! It’s your responsibility to take care of him too, to make sure things are handled while you recover! What kind of father—who just gave birth—rushes back to work, expecting his wife to manage everything and look after a newborn? You just went through childbirth, for crying out loud! You should be resting, not acting like everything is back to normal. Are you even hearing yourself?"

Aron’s smile didn’t waver, as if her words were little more than background noise. "Oh, come on. I’ll do what I need to do," he replied, his voice calm.

"But I won’t let you wear my wife down until she’s exhausted. And besides, that kid... he doesn’t come to me anyway."

Esme stared at him, dumbfounded. "Maybe," she said slowly, each word dripping with sarcasm, "it’s because even he knows what kind of person you are."

That wiped the smirk off Aron’s face, even if only for a brief second. But his composure quickly returned, and he shot back, "Yeah? Well, if I remember correctly, you’ve been married for what—two and a half months? Where’s your child, Esme? I don’t see her anywhere." His gaze was challenging, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Or is your husband too busy for that, too?"

Esme’s jaw clenched, her fists curling tightly at her sides. His words cut deep, but she wasn’t about to let him see that. "Don’t turn this on me, Aron," she said, her voice low and dangerous.

"At least I didn’t run away from home like you," Esme shot back, her voice sharp with irritation. Aron’s head turned slightly, his lips forming a pout. After a brief pause, he muttered, "Well, it’s not like it’s my fault."

"Excuse me?" Esme narrowed her eyes, not believing what she was hearing.

"It’s not like it’s my fault, okay?" Aron snapped, his voice rising a bit. He looked at her with a pained expression, his frustration evident. "That damn friend of yours doesn’t even let me out of bed after I gave birth!"

Hearing his nonsense, Esme was utterly shocked. She felt an overwhelming urge to smack some sense into him. She took a deep breath, trying to contain her growing annoyance. "Really? People want to rest after giving birth, but you? You ran away from home because your wife wanted you to rest? Can you even hear yourself right now?"

Aron’s frustration deepened, and he threw his hands in the air. "It’s not that! I just gave birth, yeah, but it doesn’t change the whole world, okay? A week, two weeks of rest, fine! But a whole month? She wouldn’t even let me lift a finger. She’s doing all the cooking, taking care of the baby, and that damn child doesn’t let her come near me. Every time we try to have a moment to ourselves, he starts crying! And then *your* dear friend runs to his side like *he’s* her first priority, not me."

Esme pressed a hand to her forehead, feeling an oncoming headache. Today, she truly pitied Helga. She had warned her friend not to marry this man, but of course, Helga hadn’t listened. Now she had to endure this nonsense.

Esme knew that arguing with Aron was a waste of energy. All it would do was drain her, and she wasn’t in the mood for that today. With a heavy sigh, she sank into the study chair and waved her hand dismissively. "Enough, Aron. If you’re here, then let’s just get down to business."

Aron’s expression shifted to something more serious. "Right. I contacted Group B. Everyone’s agreed to quietly step away from Valhale, but it’s going to take time. We need to move Group B securely. If anyone catches wind of it, it’ll cause serious problems."

"And?" Esme pressed, uninterested in the logistics for now.

Aron hesitated for a moment before continuing, "The team leader got renewed. If all goes according to plan, Group B will be back in two weeks."

Esme sighed, raising her hand in frustration. "I’m not asking about that! I’m asking about your child. How is he?"

Aron paused, the tension in the room momentarily lifting. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he answered, "He looks just like his mother. Want to see a picture?"

Esme raised an eyebrow, slightly amused. "Why are you even asking? Show me."