A chill crept down Es’s spine, sharp and unexpected, as if the room itself had turned against her. Her eyes snapped to Katrina, whose smirk—a subtle twist of her lips—felt like a slap in the face.
Es’s face hardened, her warmth retreating into an icy facade. "Officer," she said, her voice steady but laced with a frost that could cut through stone. "If your investigation is finished, I believe you can see yourself out."
Katrina’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it deepened, curling into sothing almost triumphant. The audacity of it—bold, unrelenting—was a spark thrown into dry tinder.
Katrina stood up from the sofa, her movents fluid and deliberate, as though she was performing for an audience. She brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, her eyes flicking to Ryan, the smile on her lips a perfect mix of sweetness and mischief. "Mr. Ryan," she said smoothly, her voice like honey, "let’s et soon." She extended her hand in a flawless gesture, her smile wide and confident.
But Ryan didn’t budge. He didn’t even glance at her outstretched hand, his expression neutral, unreadable. The silence hung between them, thick and uncomfortable, until Es moved. Her hand shot out with surprising speed, her fingers closing around Katrina’s in a grip so firm, it almost felt like a challenge.
Katrina flinched slightly, a quick, involuntary wince, but her smile only widened, a touch of discomfort flickering behind her cool facade. The tension was palpable, the air crackling with unspoken power plays.
Es’s gaze was unwavering as she held Katrina’s hand a mont longer than necessary. Her voice, when it ca, was icy and smooth, laced with a quiet authority. "Next ti," she said, her words deliberate, "I’d appreciate it if you made an appointnt first."
The words were like a warning, sharp and clear. Katrina’s smile faltered just for a split second—only for a heartbeat—but it was enough.
Katrina stood, her movents sharp and deliberate as she turned toward Ryan, flashing a practiced smile. "Well, what can we do, Miss Es?" she said, her voice smooth. "We’re police officers, and it’s our duty." She locked eyes with Es, the challenge unspoken but clear in her gaze.
Es didn’t flinch. Instead, she leaned forward slightly, her smile barely a flicker, cold and calculated. "You know," she began, her tone casual but edged with a subtle warning, "I’m not exactly a free person either. Neither are my husbands. They’re all very busy." She let the words hang in the air, a reminder of her own importance. "This isn’t a place like yours, Miss Katrina, where you can waltz in whenever you feel like it."
The room grew heavier with her words, and Es pressed forward. "And, let’s be honest, I’m sure you wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re just our lapdog."
Katrina froze, her smile faltering for the first ti. She wasn’t used to being spoken to so directly, especially not by soone so unafraid to challenge her authority. For a mont, she looked like she might push back, but Es wasn’t finished.
Es’s eyes didn’t leave Katrina’s. She stood taller, the power dynamics shifting in the room as her words hit their mark. "Next ti," she added, her voice cutting through the silence, "I’d suggest you make an appointnt first. It’s not exactly your place to barge in."
Kaira, who had been standing quietly off to the side, was stunned. She’d never seen Katrina so visibly thrown off, and the way Es had handled the situation with such ease left her speechless.
Katrina blinked, the smallest flicker of annoyance crossing her face, but she quickly masked it with a tight smile, forced now, with just a hint of coldness. "We see," she said curtly, the words clipped as she turned on her heel to leave.
As she walked out, the tension in the room didn’t imdiately dissipate. Es’s smile was slow, satisfied, as she watched Katrina retreat, clearly having marked her territory. The ga had shifted, and Es had claid the upper hand without breaking a sweat.
After Katrina left, Es turned to look at her husbands, Kai and Jay, who both silently turned their faces and left the hall. Soon after, Ryan followed suit, leaving for his brothers. A stillness filled the room, and after a mont, Es’s gaze returned to the portraits of Ray, where she had just been seen crying. A subtle golden glint flickered in her eyes as she opened them again. And then, in front of her, she noticed a red dot. A faint smile curled at the corner of her lips. Without a word, she walked off, her steps purposeful.
Two days later, Es returned ho from her business trip. She stepped into the house and asked the servant for water. As the servant left to fetch it, Es closed her eyes and scanned the hall. She could feel the change in the air, and when she opened her eyes again, she saw them—multiple red dots. So were on the picture fras, others behind the vase, so on the table and stool, scattered around the room. Her smile deepened, her suspicions confird. With a sense of calm, she walked up to her room.
The sa pattern appeared there. Three to five red dots were scattered across the room: behind the picture fra, on the flower vase, and in other subtle places. Es didn’t react outwardly. She simply took her clothes from the wardrobe and made her way to the bathroom. As she entered, she closed her eyes again, tuning into the familiar hum of the space. She sensed nothing unusual, for she knew the bathroom key was always in her possession. It was a room she could keep completely under her control.
The truth was, those red dots were a manifestation of one of Es’s abilities—My Area, a power that allowed her to detect anything out of place within a 200-ter radius, sotis extending to 500 ters. This ability let her see anything, no matter how hidden, in her surroundings. Each red dot represented a hidden cara, a listening device, or so other form of surveillance. The increase in the number of these dots signified sothing her instincts had already warned her about—her dear relatives, her in-laws, had started putting their plans into motion.
Es’s smile grew as she observed the growing network of surveillance. She would be ready for whatever ca next.
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