All Chapters of Four Babies and a Billion Dollar Lie: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

The InvitationThe morning in that quiet Japanese suburb unfolded like a painting, mist still clung to the trimmed hedges, birdsong floated over the tiled roofs, and the sun painted the horizon in pale gold. It was the sort of morning where everything seemed neat, orderly, and calm. But calm was never truly the language of the Langfords.Ares stepped out of the grand mansion with a box of neatly packed snacks in one hand and a cream colored envelope in the other. His children darted around him—Jamal, Kamal, Beauty, and Pretty—each one full of bubbling energy despite the early hour. Julian trailed beside him, hands in pockets, his casual gait betraying none of the curiosity that shimmered in his eyes.“Slow down, you four,” Ares called, his voice carrying the tone of authority even wrapped in affection. “We are guests, not a parade.”The kids paused, though Jamal and Kamal were already in the middle of a playful shove. Beauty tugged on Pretty’s hand, whispering a reminder their father

The WatcherThe afternoon sun drifted low, smearing the sky with streaks of gold and orange, a painter’s brush left too heavy against the horizon. Within the sprawling stone mansion, tucked neatly behind high iron gates, the Nun sat motionless in her private chamber. The room was dim, deliberately so, the thick curtains drawn just enough to allow a single sliver of light to stretch across the polished wooden floor.She sat in an armchair carved with spirals of oak leaves, her habit pressed neat against her shoulders, her hands folded on her lap like a woman in prayer. Yet she was not praying. She was watching.Beyond the window, she could see Ares and Julian.The two men stood in the garden, sleeves rolled, backs bent, hands busy. There was nothing casual about them. Everything about their movements looked innocent. Julian’s broad shoulders heaved as he carried wooden crates filled with decorations, setting them down near the trellis where roses crawled. Ares, quieter, steadier, adjus

Watch the nunChloe’s hands trembled as she approached the long table where the quadruplets sat with their plates of cake, their juice glasses clinking against each other. The tray in her hands felt impossibly heavy, though it held nothing more than finger food and bright plastic cups. She kept her hood low, her face bent toward the ground, willing herself invisible.Just serve the food. Don’t be seen. Walk away.She set the tray down carefully, her body taut with nerves. One of the children, Pretty looked up with wide curious eyes. She tilted her head, her curls bouncing, and reached forward with tiny fingers.In one swift, innocent motion, Pretty tugged at the edge of Chloe’s hood.The fabric slipped back.Her face was exposed.Jamal blinked. His fork clattered to the plate, the sound unnaturally loud against the backdrop of music. “Auntie Chloe?” His voice was high pitched, uncertain, but it cut through the air like a blade.The other three, Kamal, Beauty, and Pretty stared. Recogn

Hide and seekWhen the van rolled into the guarded compound two streets away, Ethan flicked off the lights and killed the engine. He lingered for a second, tasting the strange air of triumph that rises after a plan executes without immediate failure. This was a victory born of calculation, not a blunt blow. The gates answered the security code with a soft click, and the van moved into a driveway where stone and glass met in quiet opulence.Ayisha turned to the backseat. “It’s all right,” she said before undoing straps and opening the rear doors. “We’re here now.” The children’s recognition was immediate. Jamal’s brows lifted and, as if the world had shifted back to some earlier reading of familiarity, the boys and girls called out in a chorus that surprised Ayisha: “Aunty Ayisha!”The sound caught in her throat. Jamal reached forward with a small, tentative hand, and Kamal followed with a similar motion. Beauty threw herself forward as much as small limbs would allow and wrapped both

Regrets Ares woke with his mouth filled with dust and regret, the sun stabbing through the thin fabric of a shirt he did not remember fastening. His head throbbed like a drum. He blinked, disoriented, and the facts of last night came back in fits: the confessions, the music, the fight in the grass, the way Tessa had looked at him as though they’d shared a small, terrible truce. Then further back and deeper, he remembered Tessa on the bench and Chloe at his side. For a couple of slow seconds the floor dropped out and he felt like a man who had fallen and was still falling.Tessa stirred next to him, and when she opened her eyes, Ares saw fatigue drawn deep into the angles of her face. There was no triumphant glow, only the precise, exhausted look of someone who’d traded one crisis for another and came away uncertain which was worse.Chloe was on the other side of the garden, wrapped in one of Julian’s scarves, eyes raw but awake. She sat up slowly, fingers rubbing at her temples as i