Barren Heiress Returns With Quadruplet

Zeke’s POV

My heart skipped a beat at the mention of Ellen’s name, and my mind instantly flooded with memories of the day before.

I knew Ellen would do something fishy with that crap of a story, but I did not expect her to do so immediately. I can not be distracted at such a time as this.

I needed to sort everything, so I could find a way to make amends with Kamille. She had to suffer this much before I realized how much she meant to me. I blinked my frustration away and waited for Mr Rogers to finish the call, he was on.

Mr Rogers maintained his composure, his expression carefully neutral as he listened to Mr. Finley’s request. When the call ended, he turned to me, his brow furrowed in thought.

“What the hell do they want now?” I muttered under my breath, my brow furrowing in annoyance.

“It’s concerning Ms. Ellen Manor,” Rogers replied, his tone grave. “It seems Mr. Reymond Manor wishes to speak with you,” Rogers began, his voice measured. “He’s requesting your presence at the Manor mansion by noon for lunch.”

I scoffed. “Who the hell does he think he is to order me around or think he can intrude into my schedule without prior notice?”

“Mr Reid, if I may?” Mr Rogers asked. I looked at him for a while before nodding for him to speak.

“From the conversation with Mr Finley, they have shreds of evidence that they can use to file a report of sexual harassment and minor physical abuse,”

“So?” I asked when he finished.

“I understand where they stand on the radar of your anger, but I think you should hear them out first.” Mr Rogers replied.

“Fine,” I replied, my mind racing with what Mr Rogers had just said. They could press charges. It would be a Minor case, but it was not worth my time.

I still had Kamille and my kids to worry about than waste time on a sly bitch. “Please inform Mr. Finley that I will be there when my schedule is less busy.”

Mr Rogers nodded, his expression sympathetic. “Of course, sir,” he said, his tone gentle. “I’ll pass along your message.”

As Rogers left the room to relay my response, I sank back into my chair, my thoughts consumed by the impending meeting with Mr. Manor.

I looked at the possibilities of all they would demand as compensation. I arrived at only one thing and with that, they intend to use it to regain all they had lost.

I sighed and pinched my forehead in Frustration.

The easiest way to get them out of my mind was to bury myself into work and I did just exactly that. Hours flew by in a blur as I lost myself in the demands of my work, the persistent ringing of Mr. Finley’s calls going unnoticed in the background.

By the time I glanced at the clock, I realized that it was already past lunchtime. Mr. Finley’s repeated calls had gone unanswered. I smiled.

No one ordered me around like I was some fucking busboy.”

With a heavy sigh, I rose from my seat and reluctantly made my way to the Manor mansion, knowing that I was already late for the lunch meeting. As I arrived at the imposing gates, I braced myself for the confrontation that awaited me inside.

“Mr. Rogers please put on a pocket cam, just in case they try to act funny,” I instructed.This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Okay, Mr Reid,”

Mr Rogers set the camera into my tie and hid well behind the tie clip. Once I was all set, I stepped out of the car and walked up to the entrance of the Mansion.

Ellen greeted me at the door, her appearance sending a jolt of surprise through me. She was dressed in attire that left little to the imagination, her clothing provocatively revealing as she stood before me with a smirk playing at her lips.

She wore a form-fitting, low-cut top that accentuated her ample cleavage, the fabric clinging to her curves in all the right places. The neckline plunged dangerously low, drawing the eye to the swell of her bosom.

Her skirt was equally revealing, skimming her thighs and riding up provocatively as she moved, revealing a generous amount of leg. The fabric was sleek and figure-hugging, emphasizing her curves and drawing attention to her slender waist.

Once a bitch, always a bitch. I smirked.

As Ellen led me inside the mansion, I knew the intent of her seductive demeanor. They made sure I was walking into a trap. So smitten by her looks, coupled with what happened, I was supposed to feel sorry for my actions and take her back, added to the fact that I once found her adorable in such dresses.

They must really think of me to be one they can toy with.

As I take graceful strides into the living room, my eyes narrow with suspicion, my expression is that of a mask of controlled hostility.

My eyes swept over the room and settled on Mr. Reymond Manor with a penetrating gaze.

“What is the meaning of this?” I demanded, my tone cutting through the tension like a blade.

“You came a bit late for lunch, how about you help yourself out first, then we talk from..”

“I am not here for pleasantries,” I said, interrupting Mr Reymond Manor. “We are here about Ellen, right?” He nodded.

“Right. Ellen, do you mind recounting all that has happened to you two nights ago and the following incident the morning after.” Mr. Reymond Manor gestured for Ellen to speak.

“Yes father,” she replied. Then she began to weave her narrative, her words dripped with accusation and self-pity. I listened with a mixture of frustration and disbelief, my jaw clenched tightly as I struggled to contain my mounting anger.

“You expect me to believe this fabrication?” I interjected, my voice tinged with contempt. “Ellen should take responsibility for her actions. She’s not a child. If anything happened between us, it was consensual. I may have been drunk, but she was sober. She should have known better.”

But Mr. Reymond Manor quickly brushed aside my words, his expression hardened with resolve as he insisted on holding me accountable for the situation.

“You should not have called her after breaking her heart. But you not only called her, you abused her and threw her away like garbage.” He said.

“But she is one. Which decent person would throw herself at a drunk man, then twist the narrative to suit her selfish gains?” I asked coldly.

“But Mr Reid, the point is, as a man something did happen. So it is your responsibility to take care of her till proven otherwise.” Mr Reymond Manor said firmly.

“I’ve had enough of this charade,” I declared, my voice tinged with exasperation. “If you’re going to continue with these baseless accusations, then I see no reason to prolong this conversation. I’m leaving.”

“What if I conceive from what happened?” Ellen yelled.

“Don’t worry Ellen, Mr. Ezekiel will have a choice other than to remarry you.” Her father stated.

As Mr. Reymond Manor’s words pierced the air, my blood boiled with indignation. His demand that I take responsibility for actions I know to be false is an affront to everything I stand for. Yet, beneath the rage, a cold resolve settles over me like a shroud.

“Nonsense,” I retorted, my voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “I will not be coerced into a marriage based on lies and deceit. Over my dead body will I remarry Ellen?”

“If you refuse to accept responsibility, then you leave me with no choice,” he declared, his voice laced with authority. “You will either take Ellen back into your home until the truth is revealed or face prosecution. And if she is pregnant, you will provide for her and her children. ”

“I thought she was already pregnant with a child before now? Is that how easy it is to conceive these days?” I asked with a smirk.

“I had a miscarriage and I could not tell you because you refused me an audience and threw me out of your house,” Ellen spoke up as tears welled up in her eyes.

It did not fucking make any sense to me.

The room seemed to spin around me as anger coursed through my veins like fire. But I know that I must tread carefully. My reputation, my honor, and my time were at stake.

With a steely gaze, I fixed my eyes on Ellen, her expression a mask of feigned innocence. My voice is icy as I address her and the Manor family, my words dripping with venomous resolve.

“If it is proven that these accusations are false,” I begin, my voice low and dangerous, “you will all live in regret of the day you crossed me. You will wish you had never been born.”

I turned and strode towards the door, the weight of their expectations bearing down on me like a suffocating cloak.