CHAPTER 7

Regret in your tears

The call ended with a sharp click that seemed to echo in Ares’s ears. His pulse raced as he lowered the phone, jaw tight, eyes gleaming with the storm that had been building since he realized Tessa was gone. Across the room, Julian paced like a caged lion, his normally calculated composure unraveling with each step.

“Are they in position?” Julian demanded, pausing only to rake a hand through his dark hair.

“Yes,” Ares muttered, voice taut. “But it’s not enough. I want every unit in the city, every pair of eyes and ears…hell, every camera on the damn grid searching. Tessa and Chloe couldn’t have vanished into thin air.”

Julian’s eyes flickered with frustration. “She’s scared, Ares. You pushed too hard, and now she’s running. And if she’s running, it means she doesn’t trust us.”

Ares shot him a glare sharp enough to slice through steel. “Trust isn’t the point. Safety is. If she thinks she can hide from me, from her responsibility, she’s wrong. I’ll find her. And when I do…” His words trailed off, fists clenching.

Julian exhaled slowly, dragging his gaze toward the sprawling map on the table. Tiny red pins marked the safehouses, routes, and connections they controlled. But there was no trace of where the girls had gone. Not yet.

Ares’s phone buzzed again. He snatched it up. One of his security chiefs reported in: Nothing at the airports. Nothing at the train stations. Surveillance suggests they left the city by car. Destination unknown.

“Then widen the search,” Ares barked. “Track gas stations, toll booths, every road camera within a hundred mile radius. I don’t care how much it costs. Find them.”

Julian’s gaze darkened, but he said nothing. His silence was heavy, disapproving, but he didn’t argue. He knew better than to waste time when Ares was like this—sharp, furious, desperate beneath the steel.

***

The car Chloe drove rattled as it wound its way up the narrow, forest flanked road. Night had begun to fall, and the woods pressed closer, suffocating in their shadows. Tessa sat in the passenger seat, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, face pale, eyes swollen from hours of silent tears.

Chloe darted glances at her cousin. “We’re almost there. My aunt’s cabin. It’s… out of the way.”

“Out of the way,” Tessa echoed hollowly, her gaze unfocused as the trees blurred past.

Her mind wasn’t in the car. It was with the four infants she’d left behind…her babies. Her chest squeezed as though someone had reached inside and crushed her heart with their bare hands. She could still hear them, tiny wails overlapping, crying out for her. The sound had imprinted itself into her skull, echoing until she thought she might go mad.

The road finally curved into a clearing. The cabin loomed like something torn from an old, half forgotten nightmare. Weather beaten wood, peeling paint, and a sagging porch spoke of years of neglect. The surrounding pines whispered with the wind, their shadows clawing at the windows.

“This is it,” Chloe said softly, her own unease clear in her voice.

Tessa stared at the cabin, dread seeping into her bones. “It looks… haunted.”

Chloe forced a nervous laugh. “It’s just old. My aunt doesn’t come here anymore. That’s why it’s perfect. No one will think to look.”

Tessa didn’t reply. She followed Chloe inside, the floorboards groaning under their weight. The air smelled of dust, damp wood, and something faintly metallic. The silence inside was suffocating, pressing down on her chest until she felt she couldn’t breathe.

She stumbled into the kitchen, the dim light barely illuminating the cracked counters and rust stained sink. Her knees gave out, and she sank onto the cold linoleum floor. The weight of everything, her choices, her losses, her children…crushed her. Her arms wrapped around herself as sobs tore free, raw and unrestrained.

“I left them,” she whispered between gasps. “My babies. My babies…”

Chloe knelt beside her, gripping her shoulders. “Tessa, listen to me. You had no choice. You needed to get out before—before Ares…”

But Tessa wasn’t listening. Her mind replayed the image of the nursery. Four tiny cribs lined up, white sheets and soft blankets, four fragile bodies wailing with hunger, with need, with fear. She wasn’t there. She wasn’t holding them, wasn’t soothing them. She had abandoned them.

Her sobs rose into keening cries, each one shattering in the eerie stillness of the cabin. Chloe hugged her tight, her own eyes wet, but her strength was slipping too. She had promised Tessa safety, but now she wasn’t so sure.

****

Miles away, in a sprawling estate, the nursery had become chaos. The four babies cried in overlapping waves, their tiny fists flailing. Their soft faces were red, mouths wide, throats raw from the effort.

Lady Bianca and Marcus were busy entertaining guests Im regards to the upcoming wedding.

Four nannies moved desperately between the babies, trying to soothe, trying to feed, trying to keep up. Bottles clattered against counters. Pacifiers fell. Blankets tangled. The air was thick with the frantic energy of exhaustion and helplessness.

“Shh, sweetheart, hush,” one nanny cooed, bouncing the smallest twin. But the baby screamed louder, inconsolable.

“They won’t settle,” another said, voice panicked. “They want their mother.”

All four women exchanged desperate glances. They could meet the children’s physical needs—feed them, change them but they could not replace what the infants craved most: the warmth and presence of Tessa.

Their cries grew louder, filling every corner of the grand nursery. It was the sound of heartbreak in its purest, most innocent form.

***

Back at the cabin, Tessa’s tears slowed, though her body trembled violently. She pressed her forehead against her knees, rocking slightly. Chloe rubbed her back, whispering reassurances she wasn’t sure she believed.

Suddenly, a branch scraped against the cabin’s outer wall. Tessa flinched, her eyes wide.

“It’s just the wind,” Chloe said quickly, though her own heart raced.

But Tessa couldn’t shake the feeling. The cabin was too quiet, too remote. The kind of place where screams would vanish into the trees, swallowed whole.

She looked up at Chloe, eyes red and desperate. “We shouldn’t have come here.”

Chloe hesitated, then cupped Tessa’s face. “It’s the only place we have. But listen to me—we’ll figure something out. You’ll see your babies again. I promise.”

Tessa wanted to believe her. She wanted to hold on to that fragile hope, but the hollowness in her chest made it almost impossible.

***

At the same time, Ares stood at the window of his penthouse bedroom, staring out at the city lights. His reflection glared back at him—sharp jaw, tense shoulders, eyes burning with an emotion he refused to name.

“She’s not going far,” Julian said quietly behind him. “Tessa has no resources. No plan. She’ll make a mistake.”

Ares’s lips curved in a humorless smile. “She already made the biggest one. Running from her shit.”

Julian tilted his head. “What happens when you find her?”

Silence. Then Ares turned, his voice low, dangerous. “I’ll remind her those children aren’t mine and I will never father them.”

Julian said nothing, but unease flickered in his expression.

***

The night at Pinewood deepened. Shadows thickened. In the cabin, Tessa finally lay on the worn couch, her body curled, eyes heavy but unable to close. Chloe locked the doors, checked the windows twice, then sat near her, keeping vigil.

The forest outside whispered, restless. The cabin groaned as though remembering old ghosts.

And far away, four babies cried until they could cry no more, their small bodies exhausted, their sobs dwindling into hiccupping whimpers. The nannies watched over them with weary hearts, knowing that nothing not lullabies, not bottles could soothe the absence of the one person they needed most.

And though Tessa lay awake in a cabin that reeked of fear, she swore she could hear them calling to her from across the miles.

She pressed a trembling hand to her heart and whispered through cracked lips, “I’m coming back for you.”

The words trembled in the air, a vow, a prayer, a promise.