Madam Vallahe's glare was fierce, her eyes burning with fury as she turned sharply, her cloak swirling around her. She walked back to her husband's side with purposeful strides.
Once there, she cast a cold, disdainful look at Esme and spoke in a voice dripping with hatred,
"You forced me to do this. If you had signed the documents, I wouldn't have had to. But..." Her lips curled into a chilling smile, sending shivers down the spines of everyone present.
Suddenly, there was a loud thud as Esme collapsed to her knees. Her breathing grew ragged, and she clutched her chest, her eyes darting frantically towards the door.
Her vision began to blur, but through the haze, she could make out a figure emerging behind Madam Vallahe.
A man in a sharp three-piece black suit, a limited edition watch gleaming on his wrist, and polished leather shoes. His black hair was perfectly styled as he strode into the room with an air of authority.
Slam!
"Ugh!" Esme cried out as an unseen force slammed her to the ground. The pressure was so intense she could barely move, her body pinned down mercilessly.
Blood trickled from her nose, staining the floor beneath her.
Desperately, she tried to look up, her vision swimming as she focused on the man who had just entered.
He moved with an elegant, almost effortless grace, crossing the room with long strides.
He raised his leg with a slow, deliberate motion and settled into a chair nearby, his every movement exuding control and power.
With a dignified air, he crossed his legs, his eyes never leaving Esme's struggling form.
The aura of authority he emanated filled the room, casting a palpable tension over everyone present.
Esme's heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to draw breath. Her body ached from the force pressing down on her, and fear clawed at her mind.
She knew that the situation had escalated far beyond her control, and the presence of this mysterious, imposing man only heightened her sense of dread. Her eyes, though blurred with tears and pain, were fixed on him.
Esme's eyelids lifted slowly, as if weighted by the gravity of the scene before her. Her vision blurred with tears and exhaustion, she turned her gaze towards where her majestic white tiger had stood moments ago.
Shock seized her expression, freezing it in disbelief. There, sprawled on the ground, was her beloved companion, the embodiment of strength and magic, now subdued by a fierce black python.
The serpent's coils tightened around the tiger's once-powerful form, its fangs sinking cruelly into the tiger's neck.
"Growl..." The tiger's voice, usually resonant with authority, now emitted a soft, pained sound.
Esme's heart broke at the sight, tears streaming down her cheeks as she struggled against the oppressive force pinning her to the ground. Her eyes locked with the tiger's, sharing a silent exchange of anguish and desperation.
Every movement was a battle against the invisible weight crushing her spirit. With trembling determination, Esme fought against the pressure, muscles straining with effort.
Her mind raced, frantic with thoughts of how to free herself and save her loyal companion from this deadly threat. Despite the chaos surrounding them, her focus remained unwavering on the task ahead.
In that suspended moment, fear and sorrow hung heavy in the air, yet love and determination burned brighter in Esme's heart.
With a surge of adrenaline, she summoned all her strength, pushing against the relentless force that held her down. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling with exertion and emotion.
Her gaze never left the tiger's, a silent vow passing between them. Amidst the danger and uncertainty, their connection remained unbreakable, a testament to the bond forged between human and beast.
Esme's thoughts raced with prayers for a miracle, her mind a whirlwind of fear and fierce resolve. She knew the odds were against her, but she refused to surrender.
With one final, desperate effort, Esme summoned every ounce of her remaining strength.
She prayed fervently for the courage and luck needed to break free and rescue her beloved tiger from the deadly grasp of the python.
Esme's struggle proved futile, her body held down by an unseen force as she watched in horror. The man seated on the chair looked at her with indifference, his voice cutting through the tension in the room like a knife.
"How boring," he uttered coldly, his words landing heavily on Esme's ears. She couldn't comprehend how callous he could be in the face of her devastation. Her entire world was crumbling, and to him, it was merely tedious.
He rose from his chair with deliberate grace, adjusting his coat with meticulous care. Esme's eyes followed his every movement, disbelief and dread knotting in her chest.
As he turned and began to walk towards the door, the python spirit beast unwrapped itself from the tiger's prone form and followed silently behind him. Its movements were fluid, almost ethereal, as it trailed in the man's footsteps.
Step by step, the python spirit drew closer until it was mere inches from the man. Suddenly, the man's eyes glowed with an eerie blue light, and the python spirit began to dissolve into wisps of smoke.
Esme gasped in horror as she watched the spectral creature merge seamlessly into the man's body.
Reaching the door, the man paused beside the Vallahe family, his presence commanding attention. His voice cut through the silence once more, icy and commanding.
"In two hours, I want that one-acre land in my name."
As the man quietly slipped out of the room, Esme lay still on the ground, her hands now a deep shade of black.
It was a dire sign that her magical bond with Beom, her loyal beast companion, was suffering. The connection between them was profound; when Beom endured severe injury, Esme, as his master, shared in the pain.
Her brows furrowed in anguish as she tried to sit up, but her strength failed her. The pain she felt wasn't just physical; it echoed deep within her soul.
Beom's well-being was intertwined with hers in a way that transcended mere companionship. Every gasp of pain from Beom reverberated through her, a reminder of their unbreakable bond.
Esme's eyes, usually vibrant with determination, now glistened with unshed tears.
She whispered words of comfort to Beom, though he couldn't hear them, hoping her voice would reach him somehow.
Each labored breath she took was a testament to their connection, a lifeline that bound them together through joy and sorrow.
"Tsk, tsk, oh my dear sister, look at you now," the young woman's voice cut through the room, laced with a mix of mockery and disdain.
She stood tall beside Mr. and Mrs. Vallahe, her steps deliberate as she approached Esme, who remained sprawled on the ground.
Her expression twisted into a wicked smirk, eyes gleaming with a cruel satisfaction as she surveyed Esme's vulnerable state.
With each step, her heels clicked ominously against the floor, echoing the tension in the room. no warmth in her demeanor, only a cold, calculated malice that sent shivers down Esme's spine.
Seeing the young woman's wicked expression, Esme couldn't hold back her retort. Despite her prone position on the ground, she summoned enough defiance to sneer back, her voice tinged with bitterness and frustration.
"Still... it's much better than being a... person without a brain," Esme shot back, her words sharp and cutting.