Four Babies and a Billion Dollar Lie

Ticket to Trouble

The engine roared beneath Ares Langford’s trembling hands as his bloodshot eyes squinted through the early morning haze. Still buzzed from too many vodka shots and half a line of something he couldn’t pronounce, he cursed as blue and red lights flashed in his rearview mirror.

“Shit.”

He pulled over reluctantly, tossing his designer sunglasses on the dash as an officer approached with slow authority.

“License and registration,” the officer said, his expression flat.

“Officer, listen,” Ares slurred slightly but straightened. “I wasn’t… I mean…my girlfriend’s in labor. We’re having a baby. Like now. Water broke. There’s screaming, contractions…the whole scene.”

The cop blinked, skeptical.

“And that’s why you were doing 120 in a 50?”

“Wouldn’t you?” Ares offered his best innocent rich boy smile. “My kid’s about to enter the world…I’m sorry officer, I promise it won’t happen again.”

The officer sighed. “Hospital?”

“Uh…yes. St. Claire’s. Downtown.”

“Then I’ll escort you.”

Ares choked on air. “You…what?”

“Lead the way. I’ll follow.”

And just like that, Ares Langford, billionaire heir, was on a highway to hell, driving to a hospital where no baby was waiting and no girlfriend existed.

***

He parked like a madman and sprinted inside, his mind racing faster than his McLaren. The officer stayed close.

“Reception,” Ares barked, approaching the nearest nurse. “Is there a patient who just gave birth…young, alone, abandoned? Anyone whose baby daddy ran off?”

The nurse frowned. “That’s…oddly specific.”

“Please,” he whispered, lowering his voice. “I’ll pay. Ten grand.”

“Actually,” she said, squinting at a chart. “Room 308. Quadruplets. She’s alone. Doesn’t speak much.”

Perfect.

He jogged down the hall, fixed his hair, and walked into the

Tessa Monroe was pale, groggy, and clutching four tiny babies in two incubators. She looked up, alarmed.

“Who the hell are you?” she croaked.

He leaned in, speaking fast. “Look, I’m in a mess. I lied to a cop. Said you’re my girlfriend giving birth. He’s outside. I need you to play along. I’ll pay you a million. Just nod. Smile. Be convincing.”

Tessa stared at him, then the cop entering the doorway. She lifted her hand in a tired wave.

“Babe,” she said weakly. “You made it.”

The cop nodded slowly. “Glad to see you’re okay.”

“Yup,” Ares grinned. “Our little miracles. All four.”

“Happy for ya…” The cop said. “Congratulations.” 

***

He thought that was the end.

Until the doors flew open again.

“MY GRANDCHILDREN!” shrieked a voice. In floated Lady Bianca Langford in a Chanel suit and pearls, escorted by two maids and a chauffeur.

She dropped to her knees beside the babies. “Two boys, two girls. You overachiever, Ares!”

Ares’s jaw dropped. “Mom…what…?”

“I called her,” the officer said. “Figured she’d want to celebrate. Congratulations, son.”

Tessa blinked, whispering, “What is happening?”

“Don’t ask me,” Ares whispered back.

Bianca clapped. “Get the birth certificates. Ares, sign them! We must register the Langford heirs immediately!”

Ares shakily took the pen. “Mom… I…”

“Do it, darling. This is the happiest day of our lives!”

He signed.

He didn’t know what else to do.

Then they were in the limo, babies in custom bassinets, the maids cooing. His mom squeezed his hand.

“I’m so proud of you, Ares. I knew you had it in you.” She said. “I want to be angry with you for keeping it away from us for nine months and God knows when you would have told us…but also I’m proud of you for being a man.”

He looked at Tessa, dazed. She looked back, just as confused.

A tear slid down his cheek.

“Aw,” his mom gasped. “Tears of joy!”

He was crying. But not for joy.

For regret.

For chaos.

And for the four tiny strangers now bearing his last name.