"I never asked for their power. They entrusted it to willingly. So, I fail to see why that rattles you all so much. Are you truly so shaken by the idea that their trust in wasn’t misplaced?"
The silence that followed was deafening. Es’s commanding presence left no room for rebuttal. The reporters, who had co to tear her down, found themselves at a loss for words. Es stood tall, her confidence radiating through the grand hall, turning the inquisition into a stage for her undeniable strength.
As Es continued speaking, her sharp eyes scanned the room, landing on Noah and Diana, who had tried to remain inconspicuous. The mont she saw them, a slow smile curled across her face. It wasn’t a warm smile—it was one that promised trouble, sending a chill down their spines.
They exchanged uneasy glances, and a wave of terror coursed through their veins. Sothing about Es’s expression warned them that whatever she was about to do would shake the ground beneath their feet. Then, almost imperceptibly, Es mouthed the words: "Enough. Now let’s play a real ga."
The subtle gesture sent a ripple of foreboding through the air, and Es finally broke her silence. Her voice rang clear, drawing every eye in the room.
"Many have asked about my family before," she began, her tone calm but deliberate. " and my husbands—well, we’ve never answered. But today..." She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. "Today, I’ll answer every question."
The reporters sat up straighter, their attention fully captured. For years, speculation had swirled about Rose’s family. Who were they? Where did she co from? Despite their best efforts, all they had unearthed was that she was the only daughter of a wealthy businessman, Alex Reingard. Beyond that, her family remained shrouded in mystery—untouchable, as if veiled by an impenetrable fortress.
Even Es herself had never spoken of her origins, leaving reporters and the public to fill in the blanks with their own theories.
Finally, one brave journalist spoke up. "Miss Rose, are you saying you’re going to tell us about your parents?"
Es’s lips quirked into a knowing smile. "Of course. Do you think I’ve been hiding it all this ti?"
Another reporter quickly followed up, his tone filled with curiosity. "But why now, ma’am? You’ve never ntioned them before."
Es tilted her head and laughed lightly, her voice carrying a hint of amusent. "Oh my, and here I thought you all were the best investigators out there. If you couldn’t find anything, maybe it’s because there was nothing to hide."
Her words silenced the room, and so reporters exchanged awkward glances. For months, they’d speculated whether her family’s silence hid sothing scandalous—maybe an estrangent or so unsavory history. Yet all their digging had led only to Alex Reingard, a r whose wealth and influence were undeniable but whose private life was completely locked away.
Es took a step forward, her poise unshaken, her smile unwavering. "You all know my father," she said, her voice steady, "but only by one of his nas. For those of you in Country B, you know him as Alex Reingard. But here..." She paused again, letting the suspense rise.
"My father’s real na is Alex Reingard, also known as Oscar Valhalle."
The mont the words left her lips, the room erupted into chaos. Gasps, murmurs, and hurried whispers filled the space as everyone processed the revelation. Oscar Valhalle—husband to Richa Valhalle, the powerful chairwoman of the Valhalle Group.
"Wait," one journalist said aloud, his voice shaky. "Richa Valhalle... isn’t she the chairwoman of the Valhalle Group? But her husband... didn’t she remarry after her first husband—"
Another reporter interrupted. "But the records said... didn’t they say Mrs. Valhalle’s second husband—"
Es raised her hand, her smile sharpening into sothing more commanding. "Excuse ," she said, her tone cutting through the noise like a knife. The room stilled as her gaze swept over them.
"My mother," she said, her voice steady and firm, "never remarried. Alex Reingard, or Oscar Valhalle, was her one and only. And my father was the only one for her."
Silence fell, heavier than before, as the reporters absorbed her words. The Valhalle Group was one of the most influential and powerful conglorates in the world, and Es’s connection to it changed everything they thought they knew.
Her calm, commanding presence made it clear she wasn’t done. With a small, satisfied smile, she added, "So, yes, now you know my family. But do you truly understand what it ans?"
The room buzzed with speculation, but Es offered no further clarification. She stood there, radiant and resolute, a woman with nothing to hide but everything to control.
The room hung in tense silence, the weight of Esmé’s revelation crackling like static in the air. A bold reporter, her hand trembling slightly, cleared her throat and spoke up. "Excuse , ma’am, but if you’re admitting all this... are you saying you are Esmé Valhalle?"
Esmé tilted her head, her lips curling into a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her sharp, piercing eyes. "Of course, I am Esmé Valhalle. When did I ever suggest otherwise?"
Her calm response sent a wave of shock through the gathered reporters. They exchanged bewildered glances, struggling to reconcile her nonchalant tone with the seismic weight of her words. So fidgeted uncomfortably, recalling the many headlines and rumors that had swirled after Esmé’s alleged death years ago, but no one dared voice them yet.
Another reporter, his voice bolder, pressed forward. "But ma’am, your na—Rose Reingard. You changed it. You were declared dead. And now you’re here, living under a different identity. How do you respond to allegations that you... impersonated soone else?"
A ripple of murmurs coursed through the room. Esmé’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of amusent dancing in her expression. Slowly, she began to laugh—a soft, lodic sound that sent chills down their spines.
"Impersonated soone else?" she repeated, her voice honeyed and dangerous. "Do tell , who exactly did I impersonate? What fairy tale are you all spinning today?"
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