The Heiress's Comeback-Chapter 236: [ Volume 1] Chaper - Equality

While the brothers lingered, Esme strode confidently toward the massive front doors, where two guards in immaculate uniforms stood watch.

The guards’ initial stern expressions faltered when they saw her; their faces paled, and they exchanged nervous glances. It was one thing to guard the doors against unwanted visitors, but quite another when the visitor was Esme, now the head of the family’s business empire.

One guard raised his hand, hesitating as if she intended to stop her, but then lowered it, her gaze falling to the ground. They knew better than to stand in her way.

The brothers glanced at each other, Ray’s eyes narrowing. "She’s really doing this, isn’t she?" he muttered under his breath.

Kai let out a resigned sigh, but his eyes held a glimmer of amusement. "Guess we’re in this now," he murmured, falling into step behind Esme.

One by one, they followed her, each step echoing in the vast silence of the mansion’s entryway. Inside, the air was thick with memories—some bitter, some barely tolerable. The brothers felt a sense of impending doom mingling with a strange thrill. Esme, with her unbreakable spirit and unyielding resolve, was leading them straight into the lion’s den.

And for the first time, they found themselves almost...excited.

With a smirk playing on her lips, Esme approached the final door, pausing just long enough for the guards stationed there to catch sight of her. They scrambled to open it, but she lifted her hand, halting them. With a single swift movement, she swung her leg and kicked the door open, the loud bang echoing through the hall like a thunderclap.

The brothers behind her exchanged glances, their faces a mix of astonishment and exasperation. Did she really have to make an entrance like this? they seemed to ask silently, but Esme’s unapologetic grin in response was all the answer they needed.

Inside, the room was filled with their extended family—uncles, aunts, and cousins, all gathered in their usual tight-knit clusters, lost in their self-assured conversations. But at the sound of the door crashing open, every voice halted, eyes widening as they took in Esme’s unexpected appearance. The shock radiating from their faces was so palpable that the brothers almost felt a strange satisfaction, like a sweet vindication for every past slight they’d endured here.

At the center of it all sat a particular aunt, one of the very few who had dared to cross Esme in the past, her face paling as recognition dawned. The woman’s lips curled in disdain as she spat, "You! What are you doing here, you ungrateful—"

Before she could finish, Esme closed the distance between them in two quick strides, her hand slicing through the air to land a resounding smack across the woman’s cheek. The entire hall gasped in unison. Even the brothers, who had seen their fair share of Esme’s wrath, couldn’t hide their shock at her boldness.

The aunt stumbled back, clutching her reddening cheek, her face twisted in disbelief as she stared at Esme, who stood before her with that same dangerous smile. "Who are you calling ungrateful, huh?" Esme’s voice was soft, yet the underlying edge left no doubt that she meant business. She leaned in closer, tilting her head as if daring the woman to repeat herself. "Well?"

The aunt, eyes darting around the room for support, quickly retreated to her father’s side, clinging to him in a bid for protection. The old man’s eyes blazed with anger as he steadied his daughter. His fists clenched as he hissed, "How dare you lay a hand on my daughter!"

Unfazed, Esme stepped forward, locking eyes with him, her gaze unwavering. "You know," she began in a calm, mocking tone, "I believe in equality. If someone disrespects me, they can expect to be treated just the same—mer or woman, elder or not." Her smile sharpened. "If you’d like, I can show you just what that respect feels like."

A ripple of fear ran through the room, the once-proud elders shifting uncomfortably in their seats. Esme’s challenge hung heavily in the air, a promise that she’d confront them all if they dared to stand against her.

The brothers, standing behind her, couldn’t help but stifle grins, feeling an odd thrill in watching Esme fearlessly take on their so-called family—something none of them had ever dared to do.

A stunned silence fell over the room as Esme’s words echoed, her calm yet unyielding tone piercing the still air. The elders’ faces paled, and a tense hush swept over them as her gaze settled on one particular elder—a man seated comfortably in the grand chair, the chair that once belonged to Patrick, the designated seat of authority and leadership.

Without breaking her stare, Esme stepped forward, her heels clicking with an eerie finality against the marble floor. The elder in the chair looked at her with confusion, his brows knitting in an expression that quickly turned to discomfort under her unblinking gaze.

"What?" she said coldly, her voice firm as iron. "Stand up."

The elder blinked, bewilderment flashing across his face. He opened his mouth as if to protest, but something in her eyes stilled his tongue. She repeated, her tone biting, "I said, stand up."

He hesitated only a second longer before reluctantly rising, the weight of her authority pressing him down even as he left the seat.

Esme stepped closer, her movements smooth and deliberate. With an unwavering hand, she reached for the crystal decanter on the table, pouring a generous splash of alcohol onto the plush fabric of the seat. The pungent scent filled the air, sharp and unmistakable.

A murmur swept through the room, the elders shifting uneasily, unsure of what they were witnessing. Then, in one swift movement, Esme pulled a lighter from her pocket. She flicked it open, a tiny flame springing to life in her hand, casting an orange glow across her face.

The elder, Mark, finally found his voice, his words coming out in a strained, panicked whisper. "What... what are you doing?"

But Esme didn’t answer. Instead, she let the flame fall.

In an instant, the alcohol-soaked chair erupted, flames licking hungrily at the fabric, engulfing the once-prized seat in a fierce blaze. Gasps and shouts rang out as the elders stumbled backward, the fire reflecting in their wide, horrified eyes.

Esme stood before the burning chair, unflinching, the glow of the fire dancing in her eyes. She turned slowly to face them, her expression steeled, calm, and resolute.