Barren Heiress Returns With Quadruplet

Ellen’s POV

I sat across from my father in his study, the flickering light from the fireplace casting shadows on the walls. His revelation still hung in the air between us, like a dark veil resisting tear and wear.

“How the hell is she a Manor?” I demanded, my voice shaking with disbelief.

My father’s eyes met mine, steady and calm. “Remember the story I told you about your Aunt Fiona’s baby and your Grandma Monica coming home with an adopted baby?”

I felt a chill run down my spine as the pieces of a long-buried puzzle began to fit together. “The baby didn’t die,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

My father nodded. “Exactly.”

Dumbfounded, I struggled to process this new information. Kamille, the woman I had come to despise, was actually family. Why would Grandma Monica do such a thing?

As if reading my thoughts, my father continued. “Your Grandma Monica couldn’t bear to tell the world that her granddaughter was the daughter of a mere security guard. She didn’t want the stigma that came with having a child from a lower-class citizen.”

That was too much information to process. I nodded slowly, understanding dawning upon me. The lengths Grandma had gone to maintain the family’s reputation now made sense, but it only fueled my hatred for Kamille.

Grandma had been willing to go to such extents for her, leaving the rest of us to fend for ourselves. If she bestowed on us as much as half the attention she did on Kamille, maybe things would have gone differently.

Just maybe.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of my father’s phone ringing. He answered it quickly, his tone curt. “Go ahead and make sure there are no mistakes.” He ended the call and turned back to me.

“What was that about?” I asked, curiosity piqued.NôvelDrama.Org © 2024.

He smiled bitterly and a glint of mischief flashed in his eyes. “I’ve prepared a little gift for you,” he said, turning on his PC. The screen flickered to life, revealing a live feed.

I leaned in and saw that it was a school, then something clicked in my mind. “Thank you, Father. You know how to treat me well.” I said, smiling sinisterly.

I would make sure that Kamille would regret coming back to life again.

The video showed a woman dressed like a teacher walking towards a school lunchroom. She approached a table where Kamille’s children were seated, smiling and saying something to them.

The children smiled back and they acted friendly towards each other. As the little girl was bubbling away, my mind returned to that little photograph.

Those eyes.

“That’s it!” I exclaimed, pointing at the girl’s face. “Those eyes. They remind me so much of Kamille.”

I stared at the kids with growing hatred. My father patted my shoulder, his touch was cold and reassuring.

“Wait for the best part,” he said in a low murmur.

On the screen, I watched as the kids stood up to follow the woman. She led them to a back door, and two hulking men appeared, blocking their path. The children screamed, their faces contorted in terror.

One of the boys punched at the man dragging his sister, his tiny fists making little impact. His brothers joined in, trying to defend their sister, but it was futile.

“Such a pathetic sight,” I sneered, my voice dripping with disdain.

The men picked up the kids with force and threw them into a car, speeding off. My heart pounded with anticipation as the scene unfolded. The car raced through the streets, but soon, I noticed Zeke’s men on their tail.

The chase was intense, the car swerving dangerously to evade pursuit. My breath caught in my throat as they collided with an oncoming trailer.

My heart thudded loudly in my chest. “Are they dead?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

The screen went black, and my father turned to me, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. “We’ll find out soon enough,” he said.

My father picked up his phone and made a quick call to Mr Finley and after brief seconds, the call ended.

“What now?” I asked eagerly.

“Just hang on Ellen, we’ve got this sorted out,” He replied calmly.

I wondered how he managed to maintain a level of calm and composure in the face of such a situation. I was not bothered about the damned children, I was bothered about getting exposed.

I could not lose before letting Kamille feel the full extent of my wrath.

The minutes ticked by, each second stretching into eternity. Finally, my father’s phone rang again. He answered it, his expression unreadable. After a brief conversation, he hung up and turned to me.

“They survived,” he said, his tone void of emotion.

The children were still alive, but the game was far from over. “What now?” I asked, my voice steady despite the turmoil within.

“We proceed with caution,” my father replied. “This isn’t over yet. Actually, it has just only begun,”

I nodded. The stakes were higher than ever, and I couldn’t afford to let my emotions cloud my judgment.

Kamille might be a Manor, but she was still an enemy. And I would do whatever it took to protect my family.

“You should get going now before Zeke misses you too much,” Father said with a sly grin plastered across his face.

I smiled menacingly at the meaning of his words. “Not that he would miss me anyway,” I replied while flipping my hair.

“It’s not good to assume, my child,” Father said, dropping his glass of wine on the table.

I was about to say something when my own phone rang. “Excuse me, father,”

“Hello Becky,” I said once the call connected.

“Hello El, how are you doing?” She asked

“I have never been better, what’s up?” I asked.

I informed her of the need to get me a sperm donor with a good background. I needed to be sure I was pregnant as soon as possible.

“Why would you be better? That’s unlike you,” She said calmly.

I frowned. “What are you trying to say, Becky?”

“Don’t fucking tell me you have not seen the tabloids, the news and all?” Becky shouted.

I covered the mouthpiece and asked my father to help turn on the TV. “What’s going on?” I asked Becky once I took the call back to my ears.

“I can’t believe this, your lawyer even attended an interview this morning El,” Becky said.

I was still trying to make sense of what was going on when on the screen of the TV, I saw Zeke and Kamille dressed up prettily and smiling at the cameras.

My eyes burned with hatred and Kamille died a million deaths from a million daggers stabs.

She was living my fucking life!