Barren Heiress Returns With Quadruplet

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

Zeke’s POV

As I held Kamille in my arms, her tears soaking into my shirt, a wave of anguish washed over me. The sight of her, broken and vulnerable, tore at my heartstrings.

I couldn’t shake the feeling of helplessness that engulfed me, knowing that I couldn’t take away her pain, couldn’t mend her broken heart.

I had watched as Kamille rushed out of the restaurant, her tears flowing freely. Seeing her in such distress had stirred up a torrent of emotions within me.

Arriving at her home, I helped Kamille out of the car, my heart aching at the sight of her tear-stained face and trembling hands.

I had tried to maintain calm when I saw Royer’s bloodied face. I have seen men bathed in blood, but none was as gruesome and painful as seeing a little boy in his own blood.

Kamille’s little boy.

“I’m such a bad mom! If only I did not leave my kids to go for dinner, Royer would not have injured himself so badly. How could I have messed this up again?!” As she cried, her words pierced through me like a dagger. But even as she berated herself, I refused to let her succumb to the darkness that threatened to consume her.

“Listen to me.” I said, meeting her tear-filled gaze with unwavering compassion. “You’re not alone in this. Accidents happen, but it doesn’t define your worth as a mother. What matters now is how you choose to respond, how you rally your strength to support Royer through this.”

But her voice still choked with tears and choked by guilt, echoed through the room like a mournful lament, a symphony of self-condemnation.

“I’m such a failure Zeke.” She whispered, the words heavy with the weight of her perceived inadequacies. “If only I hadn’t left them alone, Royer wouldn’t be suffering like this. It’s all my fault, every bit of it.”

Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into the flesh of her palms as if seeking to atone for the sins she believed she had committed.

“How could I have messed things up?” She cried, her voice trembling with the rawness of her self-recrimination. “I should have known better, should have been more careful. How could I have been so careless?”

Gently, I squared my hands on her shoulders, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Hey.” I said softly, my voice laced with warmth and reassurance. “I don’t want to hear you say that. You are an amazing mother, Kamille. There’s no manual for being a parent, but you’ve done an incredible job.

Despite everything you’ve been through, you’ve raised four remarkable children. That’s something to be proud of. You are a young strong and beautiful lady Kamille.”

I paused to look at her reaction. Her tears continued to flow, but I could see a glimmer of hope flickering in her eyes as my words sank in. “I don’t want to ever hear you say demeaning things to yourself again. Do you hear me?” I asked, looking directly into her blue eyes.

She nodded a response. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away her tears. She got the handkerchief dabbed at her eyes. I stared at her and was broken at how hurt she looked.

Her eyes still glistened with unshed tears but held a depth of emotion that took my breath away. Her eye bags were puffy from the tears shed. The she lifted her gaze to meet mine.

Even in her vulnerable state, she was still as cute as ever.

Without hesitation, I pulled her back into my embrace, holding her close as if to shield her from the world’s cruelty.

Breaking free from the embrace, I noticed a worried expression gradually spread across Kamille’s face. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Uhh, I need to speak with Reon, Tyris and Torin, who were undoubtedly frightened and confused by the chaos unfolding around them. But I don’t think I’m with my phone on me.” She replied, hands in the air.

“Here, Kamille, use my phone.” I offered quietly, extending it towards her.

She took it with a grateful nod, her fingers trembling as she dialed her home line. After a few rings, the line on the other end became active. “Hello Dona, it’s me, Kamille.” She said, her voice tight with worry.

I listened intently as she spoke, the urgency in her tone echoing the fear in my own heart. “How are the kids? How is Reon, Torin and Tyris?” She asked, her voice breaking slightly.

Nanny Donna’s response was immediate, her words rushing out in a torrent of worry and relief. “Oh, Ms Kamille, thank goodness you’re okay. They have been asking for you. They are scared and have neen crying. They want to see their brother. They’re so worried. How is Royer?”

My heart ached at the thought of her children in distress, their innocence shattered by the chaos surrounding them. “Royer is fine. Please, bring the kids to me.” Kamille pleaded, her voice thick with emotion as she also tries to reassure herself by reassuring her nanny.

But before she could say more, I interjected, determined to ease her burden. “Don’t worry about it, Kamille.” I reassured her firmly. “I’ll send my men to pick up the kids and bring them here.”

“Oh Zeke, thank you so much but you don’t have to stress your men.” Kamille replied politely rejecting my help.

“Kamille it is no stress. I want to help you. Please don’t deny me that. At least for the kid’s sake.” I pleaded.

Relief flooded Kamille’s features as she thanked me, her eyes brimming with gratitude. “Thank you, Zeke.” She whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Thank you too.” I replied.

She returned her attention to the nanny, “Please dress them up in warm clothes and get ready to escort Zeke’s security too and…”

“No need for that.” I interrupted her. “The kids are in safe hands with my men.” I replied looking at her confused state.

I wonder what was going through her mind.

She nodded silently, “Stay home then Dona. Thank you. I don’t want you beating yourself up or worrying too much about this. I know it wasn’t your fault and I also know how much you love the kids. I don’t blame you okay?”

“Okay Ms Kamille. Thank you so much.” Her nanny responded.NôvelDrama.Org copyrighted © content.

As she ended the call and handed back my phone, her gaze lingered a little bit too long.