All Chapters of Four Babies and a Billion Dollar Lie: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

RealizationThe Langford estate felt colder than usual, despite the late summer sun slanting golden rays through the tall windows. Lady Bianca sat in the drawing room, hands restless on her lap. For three days she had called her son’s number without answer. For three days she had felt the quiet tug of dread that mothers often knew before anyone else.Marcus entered, holding a printed report from one of the family’s financial advisers. His jaw was tight, his usually calm eyes stormy.“Bianca,” he said, voice low, “it’s true. Ares has liquidated several of his companies here. The holdings were quietly transferred overseas. And he didn’t say a word to us.”Lady Bianca pressed a hand to her chest. “Overseas? Where?”“They wouldn’t say. It’s all been made confidential. The only thing they told me is that the bulk of his U.S. interests are gone.” Marcus sighed heavily, throwing the report onto the coffee table. “Our son is moving his empire behind our backs. My empire!”For the first time i

Speed home Ayisha left the office like someone propelled from underwater. The city felt different, meaner, sharper. She sprinted down the few blocks to the subway; the cold wind slapping her face felt like judgment. The idea that Tessa might have used them… used her shredded something inside. Trust, once broken, was not like spilled water. It soaked into floorboards and left a slick you could almost slide on.The ride home was a jumble of memories: Tessa’s laugh when they closed their first small order, the two of them in matching robes after nights of low sleep and high adrenaline, the phone calls to factories that now read like a script to a life that had just been unmasked. Ayisha’s mind raced ahead, imagining the confrontation she would have: clamps on wrists, the voice sharp as a knife, words falling like verdicts. She rehearsed what she would say: How could you? How could you betray me? How could you use our trust as a ladder?When she turned into the driveway, the evening lig

A Curious NeighborSunday afternoons in Japan carried a different kind of rhythm for Ares Langford. The city outside was alive bustling streets, neon advertisements, and the endless pulse of Tokyo’s energy but within the high gates of his sprawling mansion, the air was calm. It was the calm he had carved deliberately, the quiet life he wanted for his children, far from Dubai, far from the US, far from the watchful eyes of Tessa, Chloe and his parents.The late autumn sun filtered through the tall windows of the sitting room, bathing everything in a soft amber glow. Plush Persian rugs spread across the polished wooden floors, and the faint scent of cherry blossoms drifted through the half-open patio doors where the wind carried it in.Ares sat on the long sectional couch with his three children gathered around him, their laughter filling the room like music. Julian sat nearby, legs crossed on the single armchair, watching with a half smile.“Daddy, higher!” Kamal giggled as Ares lifte

The Reverend SisterThe afternoon had the lazy dignity of a house that owned its own time. In the billiards room, sunlight spilled across the green baize in a long, warm bar. Ares Langford stood with his cue in hand, leaning into a shot as if the angle were a private joke between him and geometry. Julian was on the opposite side of the table, umbrella of cigar smoke looping up toward the ceiling like an abstract halo. The children had been put to bed an hour earlier, their quiet breaths a comfort behind the closed nursery door; the house hummed with all the small noise of grand living — the soft tread of a maid passing on polished floors, the distant plume of the koi pond’s fountain.“Left side, slow,” Julian said, watching Ares line up. “You always go for brute force instead of finesse.”Ares glanced up. He let the cue tip kiss the ivory ball, exhaled, and slid it forward with deliberate control. The ball struck, a clean, satisfying clack that sent two solids cascading into pockets

The rich customers Chloe wiped down the counter with habitual motions that had been practiced into muscle memory during long months of quiet work. The restaurant was small as usual, just a handful of stools at the counter, a couple of low tables, and a narrow aisle between the cooking area and the windows that faced the street. The red paper lanterns outside swung gently whenever the door opened, throwing soft, forgiving light across wooden surfaces. On nights like this, the place felt honest. The steam, the clack of chopsticks, the small conversations that rose and fell like tide.Mio, a young colleague with an easy grin and hands that moved like a violinist’s, leaned across the pass to share a piece of gossip. “They looked like celebrities,” she whispered, eyes bright. “The car alone was ridiculous. The woman’s perfume was loud, musky. And their coats looked really expensive…do you know how much that must have cost?”Chloe allowed a small, contained smile. She had learned to keep h