Barren Heiress Returns With Quadruplet

Zeke’s POV

I watched as Kamille took the cookies out of the oven and waited for a few more seconds before turning to face me. But even as she turned her eyes were everywhere but on me.

“I will be going then. I just wanted to see you and be sure you are good.” I said, my eyes not leaving her as I watched her every movement.

“Okay, Zeke.” She replied, raising her head to me but still avoiding my eyes.

I walked out of the kitchen. The tension that clung to the air was suffocating, so I adjusted my necktie to give me a little breathing space.

As I walked outside, my mind twirled as it replayed the last few hours since I arrived at the penthouse.

Fuck! What was I thinking?

Was I too forward? Was she still angry with me? Or was it the damn oven that chimed at the wrong time? I tried to make sense of what could have gone wrong. But I was definitely sure that she felt the same way I did. She kissed me back, she grabbed my hair, and she felt it too.

Arriving outside, I heard the door slam shut. I turned to see Kamille holding a box in her hand. Was she leaving because of me?

“Go back inside, Kamille,” I said dryly. The last thing I wanted was for her to leave because of what happened in the kitchen.

But Kamille surprised me with her response, her voice calm and composed as she spoke. “I’m already done with the cookies Zeke. The kids will have it at the ward together with Royer.” She said softly.

“But..” I hesitated, the words caught in my throat as I struggled to find the right thing to say. There was so much I wanted to tell her, so many emotions swirling inside me, but the words eluded me.

“See you around Zeke,” Kamille said before I could mutter any other word. She wore a half-hearted smile as she walked past me.Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

Watching her go awoke a sense of longing over me. I wanted her to stay, I wanted to tell her how much I needed her. But I stood there rooted to the spot, watching helplessly as she walked away. I stood till she vanished completely from sight.

I sighed heavily and walked to my car. As I settled in, I looked back towards the penthouse one last time.

“I’m going to show her,” I whispered to myself, my voice filled with resolve. “I’ll love her with all my heart. I’ll fight for her, and I’ll do everything in my power to have her back.”

I am going to show her how much she means to me.

With those words hanging in the air, the engine roared to life beneath me. I was going to do whatever it took to get Kamille back. I don’t think I could survive for much longer without her by my side.

Driving through the bustling streets of London, nothing seemed to pique my interest like the sight of my mansion. I just wanted to have a cold shower and then bury myself in work. If I was going to help Kamille shine again and also prove my love to her, I needed her to trust me again. I entered the house.

“Welcome home Mr. Reid.” A maid chimed as she made her way past me.

“Good to see you back, Sir.” Another added while busy with her chores.

I was in no mood to play nice host or boss with them, so I ignored them and walked away.

As I neared the steps leading to my room, I heard a voice I could be more receptive to.

“Hello, Sir. Welcome back.” Mr Rogers greeted.

“Rogers.” I nodded in his direction. He seemed to look a lot healthier than when I last saw him.

“Yes Sir. Nice to have you back, the company has felt your absence.” He replied.

“What did I miss?” I asked him. I did not like being away from work for long. Mr Rogers did an amazing job but it’s never always the same without me in it.

Rogers proceeded to update me on the latest developments at the Reid Company. I had a lot of documents to review and a lot of tasks that needed my attention.

“I left some documents in the study so that you can work on it, whenever you are back.” He explained, his brow furrowing slightly.

I let out a resigned sigh. “How much?” I asked.

“Very much so.” Mr Rogers replied with a sympathetic smile.

“Thank you, Rogers,” I said and continued on the steps before halting abruptly.

“You should take some time off more often. It looks good on you.” I said without looking back, and then I continued my way up the stairs. Mr Rogers was the closest elderly personality I have around after Father. A few days off the stress, made him look refreshed like a well-fed duck in the pond.

After a quick shower and change of clothes, I headed to my study, ready to work on the documents Mr Rogers spoke of. As I stepped into the room, I was greeted by a mountain-sized pile of documents.

This was a month’s work! And it accumulated in just three days? What the fuck?!

I cursed inwardly as I moved towards my table and sat as I began working. As I worked, the soft glow of my computer screen illuminated the dimly lit study but my concentration was suddenly interrupted by the shrill ring of my phone. I glanced at the caller ID.

“Hello,” I said into the phone after picking up the call.

“Hello, brother. I have just mailed you what we owe you.” He replied unenthusiastically.

“What do you owe….?” I stopped as realization hit me. This rascal had to be talking about the drug baron. “I will take a look now,” I added calmly.

I ended the call with Fletcher and went ahead to open my mail. I clicked open the attachment file he sent and there sat a picture of a man with an odious aura around him, but I could not see his face.

I rang Fletcher. “What is this?” I asked.

“Well brother, that is the only picture we could get our hands on. That man is always surrounded by lots of men, so it is definitely hard to get a close-up picture of him.” Fletcher replied. His background had become a little noisy.

“Try to get a clearer picture of him next time. I don’t want to believe his drunk men can outsmart the well-trained personnel you have under you. ” I said. Fletcher and Zane both did not like their men’s egos to get bruised. I hope I have done the intended harm. I hung up before he had a chance to reply.

Returning my attention to the picture, my eyes scanned the image, searching for any clues or familiar details. But nothing was forthcoming. I was just stuck with a side view of the drug baron, seated in the back of a luxurious limousine, a stogie cigar in hand.

At first glance, everything seemed different- the hairstyle, the clothing, even the angle of the shot. But as I studied the image more closely, a sense of familiarity washed over me, a nagging feeling that I had seen this profile before.

There was something about the set of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbones, that stirred a memory deep within me. There definitely was something familiar about the image my gaze was on.

Wait. Could it be what I am thinking? Was it possible that the drug baron was someone I once knew?

At this point, I had unlocked Pandora’s box of unanswered questions and dangerous answers.

Who the fuck is he?