Barren Heiress Returns With Quadruplet

Ellen’s POV

“Go to your room, freshen up, and meet me in my study when you’re done,” Father said standing up to do the same.

I nodded in response and hurriedly went into my room. I had a quick bath and dressed up in comfortable shorts and a cropped blouse. As I was about to step out of my room, I saw an incoming call from Becky.

“Finally someone actually has the courtesy to return my calls.” I said, rolling my eyes as I stepped back into my room.

“Sorry about that El. I was in the ER when you called. How are you doing?” Becky asked. Her voice bore tired strains.

“Well, everything has been fucking chaotic as usual and I had something I wanted to ask you.” I replied. I had to hurry so I would not keep my father waiting for long.

“And what could that be?” Becky asked.

“Well, remember that nerd Kamille was friends with back in college. I heard she later became a doctor. Do you by any chance remember her name or know where she works or just anything at all on her. Do you?” I said quickly.

“That must be Belle you are referring to. I remember her. She is currently engaged and is working in her fiance’s hospital. I don’t think she is the kind of girl to go around looking for trouble.” Belle replied with a yawn. “I’m sorry El.”

“Get some rest Becky, then text me the full details in the morning.” I said.

“Alright El. Talk to you later.” Becky said, then we hung up.Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

I am going to follow up on all leads. There was no room to leave any stone unturned.

I went up to my Father’s study.

I met him at the doorstep. He gestured for us to enter his study, so I followed him obediently. Once we were inside, I settled into a chair opposite him.

After a moment of silence, I couldn’t help but inquire about my mother’s well-being. “How is Mother? I haven’t seen her around.” I asked, my voice tinged with concern.

My father’s expression softened at the mention of her, a brief flicker of warmth crossing his features. “She’s tired and asleep,” he replied simply, his voice gentle.

I nodded, acknowledging his words with a sense of understanding. “Okay,” I murmured.

“Once she is awake, we’ll have dinner together,” Father added.

All these must really be tough on her poor soul. I cannot fucking wait for the chaos to pass.

“Are you worried that something bad has happened?” he asked, his voice soft with concern but his face bore no emotions.

I nodded slowly, unable to hide the anxiety that gnawed at me. “Maybe.” I half admitted.

A furrow appeared between my father’s brows as he considered my response. “You know, your Aunt Fiona was like that too.” he began.

“How?” I questioned. I really wanted to know more about her as she sounded like a cool person. Contrary to what my parents believe anyway.

My father sighed heavily, his gaze distant as he recounted the tale. “Your aunt Fiona was always worried for everyone, always calling, always visiting, and always acting like she cared. But when her secret was exposed, her rebellious spirit surfaced.”

My curiosity piqued, and I leaned in closer, hungry for more details. “What secret?” I urged on.

“Hang on Ellen. Do you want to know what your grandma Monica did to her rebelliousness?” My father asked. I could feel his anger and deep-rooted hatred come to the surface. I shook my head in the affirmative.

I wanted to know.

But before my father could continue, a knock resounded on the door and a maid entered the room, interrupting our conversation. My father’s attention shifted instantly.

“What do you want?” He asked coldly, without shifting his gaze from his table.

“The Madam has asked me to come ask you if you are ready for dinner.” The maid asked, heads bowed and hands all shaky.

“We’ll be right there” he replied to the maid before turning back to me with a regretful look. “We’ll talk about this later, Ellen,” he promised.

“But father! You were discussing what Aunt Fiona did that led to something father…. Can you continue?” I asked eagerly, wearing a pleading pout.

Father sighed and continued. “Fiona was meant to be the heir to all of the Manor businesses,” he explained, his words carrying a weight of significance. “While the properties and shares were to be shared among the remaining children, inlaws, and grandkids.”

Can you just skip to the secret part already?

“Then what happened that led to her death? What was her secret?” I probed further.

“She pulled the wrong move and played the wrong game. That was her only mistake and that is what claimed her life. ” Father replied as he shut down his system and focused his gaze on me. “This is why we will not make the wrong move again.” He added with a knowing look.

What was Aunt Fiona’s secret, and what does it have to do with the existing Manor family? Father was yet to answer this question that lingered in my mind. But I would allow it for now.

“Alright, Father. So how about the kids?” I asked after releasing a heavy breath.

“The kids. Give me all the details you have gathered so far on them.” Father instructed.

“They’re staying at Zeke’s penthouse,” I began. “And I suspect one of them may be hospitalized. They attend a private school owned by a Mr. Christopher George.”

My father nodded thoughtfully, absorbing the information. “What class are they in?” he asked, his tone measured.

“Kindergarten,” I replied promptly, a sense of unease gnawing at me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that time was of the essence, that we needed to act swiftly to ensure the children got the hell out of the picture already.

As I awaited my father’s response, a flicker of anticipation danced in my chest. What plan did he have in mind? Would he send them out of London? Or send them off to one of those barren heiresses. That way they would still have a great life.

Not like I really cared anyway. I just want them gone already by all means.

But before I could voice my questions, my father’s attention shifted abruptly. With a swift motion, he reached for his phone, his fingers moving with practiced precision as he dialed a number.

As he began to speak into the phone, I knew it had to be Mr. Finley. I watched in astonishment as his demeanor shifted, his voice taking on a steely edge that sent shivers down my spine. He was about to rain hell on Ezekiel Reid’s children! I hope the plan goes smoothly, else we would be dead meat with a twinkling of the eye.

Father finally hung up and looked at me. “By tomorrow on their way back from school. It will be done.”

Before I could say any word, the door swung open, and my mother entered the room, a gentle smile gracing her features. She was a beautiful woman with lustrous brown hair and deep blue eyes. Her brown hair began to have streaks of gray in them, but it only added to enhance her beauty.

Since Liz’s capture, she began falling ill and having terrible migraine headaches. But adding Gabriel too to that list put her on instant medication for her blood pressure levels. I can not imagine what the case would be if I was also detained. “Mother,” I called out.

“Dinner has been ready for a while now,” she announced, her voice breaking through the silence that had settled over us.

My father nodded in acknowledgment, his expression softening as he turned to my mother. “Thank you, dear,” he replied, his tone gentle as he reached out to grasp her hand. “We were about to come down.”

“Yes, mother.” I concurred. Mother nodded with a smile and turned to leave when she suddenly stopped and began coughing. Father hurried to her side, while I got a bottle of water from the fridge in my father’s study.

After Mother regained composure, Father opted to escort her down. “Shall we?” he asked, his voice warm and inviting as he guided her toward the door.

My mother accepted his offer with a nod, her hand resting gently on his arm as they made their way down the stairs to the dining room.

I followed behind them, wishing that they remained this way more often.