Ray hesitated, his anger briefly flickering with confusion. He stared at Es, his chest rising and falling heavily with frustration. "You think I have a problem with him?" he asked, incredulous.
Es shook her head slowly, her gaze unwavering. "What I think is this—you guys have been on edge since the mont he arrived. First, you eavesdrop on conversations; then you act like you’re going to tear him apart at breakfast with your gaze. Now that he’s fired a few servants, you storm in here, yelling like a child. And you’re doing this while you know I’m in the middle of an important eting."
Ray’s face reddened even more as his fists clenched at his sides. "This is my house!" he shouted. "Just because you live here and you’re called our wife doesn’t an you have the right to do as you please!"
Es’s eyes narrowed, her voice dropping dangerously low. "Ray, it was you and your brothers who ca to for help. I’ve done nothing but try to run this household efficiently. And now you stand here, screaming at like this?" She took a step closer, her voice steady but filled with cold fury. "Why? Just because of so servants?"
Ray, montarily speechless, stared back at her. His confusion and anger mixed together, leaving him without words. Es’s unwavering gaze didn’t falter, and the tension in the room hung thick between them.
Ray sat in his wheelchair, the weight of the file in his hands growing with every second. His initial anger had cooled, giving way to an uncomfortable knot tightening in his stomach as he scanned the pages. The nas of Jas and Sally stared back at him, their true identities revealed. They had infiltrated the household under false pretenses, spying on him and Es all along.
The irritation he had directed at Es just monts ago began to shift. Now, it was himself he was angry at—for doubting her, for not seeing what had been right in front of him. But his pride wouldn’t let him show it. He glanced up, eting Es’s eyes, but she no longer looked at him with the sa warmth. Her expression was cold, distant. The chasm between them, once subtle, now felt too wide to bridge.
Es broke the silence with an icy edge to her voice. "Mr. Ray Aron," she said, her tone formal, as if addressing a stranger. "I know exactly what our contract entails, and I have no interest in this household beyond fulfilling my end of it. Valhalla, Aron—none of it matters to . They stand because I allow it."
Each word hit Ray harder than the last. She wasn’t just dismissing him—she was dismissing everything he stood for: his family, his legacy—everything he had fought to protect.
"And," Es continued, her voice laced with finality, "stop acting like my husband when it’s just us. I’m not your wife in any real sense, and I owe you no explanations."
Her words stung deeply. Ray felt the weight of them settle in his chest. He wanted to argue, to defend himself, but no words ca. All he could do was sit there, the file still clutched in his hands, as Es turned away and resud her work. She had made her point clear—there was nothing left to say.
The fragile connection they once had was broken. And Ray realized, with a sinking feeling, that maybe it had never really been there at all.
Ray stood still, his anger fading as Es calmly put in her earphones. She looked up briefly, her tone cold and dismissive.
"If you’re done, please leave."
Without waiting for his response, she started her video call, her attention already elsewhere. Ray stood there, realizing he no longer mattered in that mont.
...
After that day, the distance between Es and her husbands beca too great to bridge. She stopped talking to any of them, only interacting when necessary, like a ghost moving silently through the house.
Once a loving and caring wife, she now withdrew entirely. Even when they were all in the sa room, she remained quiet, working late into the night before retreating to the balcony to sleep, abandoning the shared bed.
Her nights were plagued by relentless nightmares—so intense they kept her from resting. She suffered from insomnia, barely sleeping more than three hours at a ti. Exhaustion gnawed at her every night, yet she found no peace, only waking hours haunted by silence. The only person who could make her smile in the household was the butler, Aron. While her interactions with her husbands beca scarce and cold, Aron’s presence was a small comfort, though brief.
As days passed, her condition worsened. One afternoon, Es, now severely sleep-deprived, felt an overwhelming drowsiness while working in her office. After standing up from her desk, she walked over to the sofa in the corner of the room, loosening her shirt as she lay down. A sharp pain surged through her head, as if it were being split apart. She groaned, clutching her head in agony.
The door opened quietly, and Aron entered, closing it softly behind him. He approached her imdiately, his expression filled with concern. Kneeling down next to the sofa, he gently asked, "Are you okay, Es?"
Es, barely able to speak from the pain, gave a weak nod. Seeing her in such a state, Aron quickly retrieved her dication from his pocket. He carefully placed the pills in her mouth, ensuring she swallowed them. His hand hovered protectively over her, his face etched with worry.
As Aron leaned in to make sure Es was alright, the door swung open suddenly. Ray, Jay, and Kai stood at the entrance, having co to apologize to Es. But what they saw stopped them cold.
From where they stood, it appeared as if Aron was embracing Es while she lay on the sofa, her face flushed red. The sight was shocking, filling them with confusion, jealousy, and a flash of anger. It looked, in their eyes, like an intimate mont between Aron and Es—completely misinterpreting the care and concern Aron had shown.
The silence that followed was thick with tension, and none of them could process the truth of what was unfolding before them. Their emotions clouded their judgnt, and the bond between them and Es seed to fracture even further in that instant.
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