Barren Heiress Returns With Quadruplet

Ellen’s POV

After Max’s message, I knew father was the best person to inform about the kids. But if those kids belong to Zeke, then could that lady from the photo be their mother? Why keep them at his penthouse instead of the mansion?

Tired of staying indoors, I decided to make a trip to the salon. At least over there I would be able to worry less because of the gossip I would gladly partake in.

I rose from the bed and entered the restroom to freshen up. Stepping out of the restroom, I began to get dressed. I opted for a casual yet stylish outfit. I chose a pair of snug black jeans that accentuated my curves, paired with a breezy white linen blouse. I slipped into a pair of crisp white sneakers. I adorned myself with a delicate gold pendant necklace and let my hair fall loosely around my shoulders.

After a final check in the mirror to ensure everything was just right, I grabbed my car keys and headed out the door.

After a few minutes on the road, I arrived at the salon. I parked at a corner and walked into the salon. As I walked in, I was greeted with so much coldness that it could have made me puke. I had expected to be attended to with the same urgency as usual, but I was met with indifference from the staff. Annoyance prickled at the back of my mind as I watched them chat idly amongst themselves, seemingly unconcerned with my presence.

What the hell was wrong with these ignorant people?

“Excuse me,” I said, my tone firm as I approached the reception desk. “I would like to get my nails done now,” I demanded.

The receptionist glanced up briefly, her expression indifferent. “I’ll let someone know you’re here,” she replied, her voice lacking the usual warmth.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, frustration simmering beneath the surface. This was not the level of service I was accustomed to, and I wasn’t about to tolerate it.

After several minutes of waiting, with no one making a move to assist me, I felt my patience wearing thin. “Is there a problem?” I asked, my voice tinged with irritation.

The receptionist shrugged, clearly unbothered by my growing frustration. “We’re a bit busy at the moment,” she replied casually.

I clenched my jaw, my patience wearing thin. “I don’t care how busy you are,” I snapped, my tone sharp. “I expect to be attended to promptly. And if you value the existence of this salon, you would get to work immediately.”

The receptionist faltered under my gaze, realizing that I wasn’t going to back down. With a sigh, she muttered something to her colleague, who reluctantly made her way over to me, finally ready to take my appointment.

As I settled into the chair, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction at having asserted myself. It was a reminder that I wouldn’t let anyone trample over me, especially not when it came to something as simple as getting my nails done.

As my nails were being meticulously attended to, my phone rudely interrupted the salon’s ambiance with its incessant ringing. Irritated by the disruption, I glanced around for a nearby staff member, my impatience growing.

“Hey, pass me my phone,” I instructed. My tone was harsh as I gestured towards the device lying on the nearby counter.

One of the workers hesitated for a moment before reluctantly retrieving my phone and handing it to me with a forced smile. I barely spared them a glance as I accepted the device, my focus on the incoming call.

Without skipping a beat, I answered the call, my tone clipped with urgency. “What’s the update?” I demanded.

Max wasted no time in delivering the news. “There’s a car outside the hospital, waiting to take the kids back to the penthouse,” he reported. “They’ll be leaving in a couple of minutes.”

I would love to have a closer view of those scoundrels.

I had wanted to see the kids for myself. So I knew I needed to act fast. With a determined nod, I relayed my plan to Max before hanging up the call.

Turning to the salon staff, I raised my voice, urgency lacing my tone. “Hurry up with my hair,” I commanded, my impatience palpable. “I don’t have all day.”

As the workers scrambled to expedite their efforts, I couldn’t shake the sense of urgency that consumed me. Time was of the essence, and I was determined to see the truth with my own eyes.

With my nails freshly painted, I wasted no time in paying and darting out of the salon. Ignoring the curious stares of passersby, I hurried to my car and peeled out of the parking lot.

Soon, I arrived at the familiar site of Zeke’s penthouse. I scanned the quiet entrance and waited for a while before I saw the black Cadillac pull up. Parking my car at a safe distance from the entrance, I slipped out of the driver’s seat and found solace at a tree close to Zeke’s house.Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

I saw three children emerge from the vehicle. Two boys and a girl, just as Max had described. But something didn’t add up. That photo had four children in it, not three.

The fourth child must be the one in the hospital. It was the only explanation that made sense.

Quickly, I reached for my phone and snapped a photo of the children, capturing the moment as evidence. Satisfied, I started the car and drove away. I was not going to let them ruin my plans.

I arrived home just as dusk was setting in. As I entered the living room, I found my father seated in the living room. I scanned around for Mother, but there was no sight of her. I sighed.

“Father,” I said, drawing his attention as I held out my phone, “We’ve found the kids!”

As he glanced at the picture on my phone, a shadow seemed to pass over his features, his expression shifting to one of intense focus. His brows furrowed slightly, and his jaw clenched, revealing the gravity of the situation.

Without a word, he nodded solemnly, his eyes fixed on the image before him.

“Let’s get this started,” he finally replied.