Another reporter, emboldened by the confrontation, stepped in. "Miss Esmé—" he faltered, correcting himself. "Or should we call you Miss Rose? Isn't it true that you pretended to be the rightful heir of the Valhalle family?"
Esmé's gaze locked onto him, and the room seemed to grow colder. "Oh, really?" she said, her tone laced with mockery. "Perhaps you've forgotten, Mr. Reporter, but let me remind you—I am the rightful heir. The daughter of Richa Valhalle and Oscar Reingard. Their eldest daughter. Their only heir."
The declaration struck like lightning, rendering the room speechless. But one reporter, unable to hold back, stammered, "But… the DNA… your blood doesn't match Mrs. Valhalle's records."
Esmé arched an eyebrow, her smirk widening as if she'd been waiting for this. "Oh, my," she said with exaggerated pity, shaking her head. "And here I thought reporters were supposed to be clever."
