Barren Heiress Returns With Quadruplet

Ellen’s POV

Staring at Kamille left my mind a whirlwind of disbelief and shock. My hands gripped at my phone and purse tightly, leaving my knuckles white from the pressure.

I needed to be really sure it was Kamille and not me running mad from imagination. I dropped my purse and took a few photographs of Kamille and Belle together on her front porch.

“Let’s go,” I instructed the driver.

“I have thought you would never request that,” He replied and we drove off.

The image of Kamille, standing there on her front porch, played over and over in my mind like a relentless, surreal loop. How could she be alive? How could she have hidden from us for so long? How the hell did we miss this?

I barely registered the familiar sights of the city as the car sped towards our mansion. My thoughts were consumed by questions and emotions.

My heart raced a mixture of anger, confusion, and an unexpected twinge of relief.

At least I was not dead or mad, to be seeing Kamille in broad daylight.

The world outside seemed like a blur when compared to the revelation that had just upended everything I thought I knew.

“We are here Ma’am,” The cab driver said.

I turned and pulled some wads of cash for him. “Keep the change,”

As soon as I had paid for the fare, I leaped out of the car and rushed inside. The door slammed behind me, and I burst into the living room where my parents were sitting.

My voice trembled with urgency as I shouted, “Mom! Dad! Kamille is alive!”

They both looked up, startled by my outburst. My father stood up, concern etched on his face. “Ellen, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Kamille!” I repeated, my voice shaking. “I saw her today. She’s alive!”

My mother gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Are you sure, Ellen? How could this be?”

“Can you prove such nonsensical claims?” Father chimed in.

“I took a picture,” I said, fumbling with my phone. My hands were trembling so much that it took a moment to find the photo.

I handed the phone to my father, who stared at the screen, his expression shifting from skepticism to shock.

He passed the phone to my mother, who looked at the image with wide eyes. “This… this is unbelievable,” she whispered. “How could she have survived?”

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice breaking. “But I saw her, clear as day. I followed her friend till she arrived at this address, and when she knocked, Kamille answered the fucking door! We need to do something and do it fast!”

My father’s eyes hardened with determination. “We need to find out everything we can. This changes everything.”

“Yes,” my mother agreed, her voice firm despite the shock. “We need to get to the bottom of this.”

As I thought about it, what prompted me to follow her, was the baby girl’s hat she bought with her.

Oh fucking no! You have got to be kidding me.

I slumped into the nearest sofa beside me and cursed over and over again.

“Ellen, what is the matter?” Mother asked, still trying to register the information.

“Dad, Mom, so Belle bought a baby girl’s hat and took it to Kamille. I followed her because of it.” I said, still reveling in the shock of my thoughts.

“What then does that change?” Father asked angrily.

“Exactly Ellen, what are you now insinuating?” Mother concurred.

“What if Kamille had kids for Zeke?” I asked, also somewhat confused.

“How is that even possible Ellen?” Mother asked. “They had a strained relationship and like you rightly told us, Zeke had never slept with her,”

“But what if he had later on and did not mention it?” Father chimed in.

“Damn it,” I cursed again.

They had yet even gotten married when I lied to Zeke about Kamille’s barrenness and since then, he had always hated her and slept in a separate room.

So it was not possible he had slept with her while they were married. Or did he?

“Father, what do we do?” I asked. My face was already looking stressed out. My eyebags felt heavy with so much worry and stress.

“We need to be calm and re-strategize. This could only mean that Kamille was behind Liz’s and Gabriel’s leaked videos and other incriminating evidence,” Father replied.

He too was looking old due to stress. The wrinkles on his face felt like they had multiplied in the past few minutes. My mother was not any better.

“What do you suggest we do, Father?” I asked.

“For now, don’t show yourself before her. I will have someone watch her and give us feedback on her daily schedule.” Father replied.

“And what difference is that supposed to make?” Mother asked weakly.

“Once we know her routine, we will know where to strike,” Father replied calmly to her.

The room buzzed with a mix of fear and anger. The revelation of Kamille’s survival had rocked our world. As I sat there, catching my breath, I knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

“Damn it,” I cursed again. “I need to be alone,” I said to them and began to make my way up the stairs when Father called.

“Ellen,”

I stopped and turned in his direction. “Father,” I replied with a tone of indifference.

“Concerning Zeke, we have to bring forward our plans for him,” He said.

I walked back downstairs and sat back in the seat I just stood up from. “What do you have in mind?”

I did not mind doing anything at this point if I wanted to still maintain face. If I was back in Zeke’s house, he could not get married to another person or think of bringing Kamille back.

“I would call Zeke over on the grounds of sexual assault and physical abuse.” Father began. “He would definitely not want to come, but we have evidence. We have his security and homekeepers as witnesses and of course, we could try to get the CCTV footage too,” He added.

I nodded as Father spoke. I too had a string to pull. Zeke had always loved it when I dressed seductively and acted cute at the same time.

I would use that to further add pressure on him to take me back.

Hopefully, he still fell for it.

“Remember, you had earlier said you were pregnant already, so what will you do, if he brings that up?” Mother asked.

“Miscarriage.” I blurted out without hesitation. “I have had other miscarriages, so what is one more?” I added.

“Evidence?” Father asked.

“I’ll reach out to Becky,” I replied.

“Good, then I shall proceed,” Father said as he picked up his phone.

“Mr Finley,” Father said into the call.

Kamille, I hope you regret not staying dead.