Chapter 126 CHAPTER 126
Accident
The morning sunlight crawled through the blinds of Ares’s mansion, slicing soft stripes across the cream colored marble floor. The entire place was unusually quiet, no laughter, no movement, no Dorcas humming in the kitchen like she usually did before the children woke.
Ayisha stretched, rubbing her eyes. Her head felt heavy from the restless night she’d had, memories of the police station still flashing in fragments. Tessa had brought her here last night, gave her a guest room, and told her to rest. She remembered nodding off to the sound of distant rain, comforted by the idea that she was finally safe.
But now, as she blinked awake, something felt off. The house was too still.
She reached for her phone on the nightstand—no missed calls, no texts. The time read 6:12 a.m.
She swung her legs off the bed and padded barefoot down the hallway, peeking into rooms. The quadruplets’ door was half open, faint murmurs and giggles spilling out.
She smiled. “Those little angels are awake.”
She poked her head in. The four eight year olds—Jamal, Kamal, Beauty, and Pretty were already sitting on the bed, still in their pajamas. Jamal was teasing Kamal with a toy car, while Beauty was braiding Pretty’s hair in tiny, neat rows.
“Morning, my darlings,” Ayisha said softly, stepping in.
They turned in unison, bright smiles lighting up their faces.
“Good morning, Aunt Ayisha!” they chorused.
She laughed. “You guys are always up too early.”
“Dorcas isn’t here,” Pretty said, her voice small. “She usually wakes us up.”
Ayisha paused. “She’s not?”
They shook their heads.
A pinch of worry tightened her chest. Dorcas was responsible, always the first awake, making sure breakfast was done before the kids even rubbed their eyes.
Maybe she went to the hospital with Tessa, Ayisha thought. It made sense. Tessa barely came home last night, she’d said she’d stay with Lady Bianca.
Ayisha forced a calm smile. “She probably went to help Miss Tessa. Don’t worry, okay? I’ll handle everything today.”
The kids cheered. “Yay, Aunt Ayisha’s making breakfast!”
She grinned, though her mind was already spinning. She needed to call Tessa later, just to be sure.
The kitchen smelled of pancakes and cocoa soon after. Ayisha worked fast, flipping pancakes on the hot skillet while the children sat at the breakfast counter.
“Jamal, stop pouring too much syrup!” Beauty scolded, crossing her arms like a tiny adult.
Kamal laughed. “Let him be! It’s Saturday!”
“It’s not Saturday,” Pretty corrected, swinging her feet under the stool. “It’s Friday. School day.”
Ayisha chuckled softly as she stacked the golden pancakes on a plate. “Pretty’s right. Now hurry up before you all make us late.”
When she turned around, four identical pairs of eyes, two sets of boys, two sets of girls were staring at her expectantly.
“What?” she asked, confused.
Beauty pointed. “You didn’t pray yet.”
Ayisha blinked, touched by their discipline. “Oh… you’re right.”
She set the spatula down and joined hands with them around the counter. “Alright, let’s pray for a beautiful day.”
Their little voices rose in unison, their innocence filling the big, echoing kitchen. Ayisha’s throat tightened as she whispered the final amen.
She’d almost forgotten what this kind of peace felt like.
After breakfast, she bathed them one after the other—Kamal first because he always complained the most, Jamal second because he loved splashing water everywhere, then the girls who insisted on wearing matching bows.
By 7:30 a.m., all four stood in their neat uniforms, backpacks strapped, lunchboxes packed, shoes polished.
Ayisha took a step back, arms folded. “You all look so handsome and beautiful. Ares would be proud.”
“Where’s Daddy?” Jamal asked. “Is he coming home today?”
Ayisha’s smile faltered slightly. “He’s… busy right now. But you’ll see him soon, okay?”
They nodded, though their faces fell a little.
She ushered them out, the security guards already waiting at the entrance. The morning air outside was crisp, the mansion’s long driveway stretching under a canopy of trees.
The black car was idling by the gate, two security men in dark suits waiting beside it. Ayisha held the door open as the kids climbed in.
“Seatbelts,” she reminded gently.
“Got it!” Kamal said proudly, buckling his in a rush.
She smiled and got in the front passenger seat. “Alright, let’s go.”
The convoy rolled out slowly, one car leading, another tailing behind for escort.
The city streets were already alive, vendors setting up, students in uniforms hurrying to buses, cars honking lazily in the distance.
Ayisha gazed out the window, her fingers tapping nervously on her lap. She still couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that had followed her since morning.
Behind a few cars down the street, a black sedan idled with tinted windows.
Ethan sat behind the wheel, jaw clenched, watching the convoy through narrowed eyes. He’d been there since dawn, waiting.
He’d watched the mansion gates open. Watched her walk out, looking calm, like she didn’t betray him.
Ayisha moving freely.
His lips curled bitterly. “Bitch,” he muttered, eyes cold.
He watched as she leaned back, smiling at the kids through the rearview mirror. She looked… soft. Motherly, even.
His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Enjoy it while you can,” he said under his breath. Then he started the car and drove off, disappearing into traffic.
At the hospital, chaos reigned.
Tessa was everywhere, running rapidly against the tiled floor, her voice sharp but tired as she spoke with nurses and doctors, her phone buzzing non stop.
“Miss Tessa, the pharmacy just sent the new list,” a nurse said, jogging up to her.
Tessa snatched the clipboard. “Are you kidding me? We already bought half of these.”
“They said Lady Bianca’s vitals dipped again. They’re increasing her medication dose.”
Tessa closed her eyes for a brief second, exhaling slowly. Her mind was a whirlwind, Bianca’s coma, Ares’s silence, the bills piling up faster than she could process.
“Fine,” she said finally, forcing herself to stay calm. “Tell the pharmacy I’ll handle it.”
She hurried toward the billing office, swiping her card, signing papers, making phone calls, every second spent fighting the weight of helplessness pressing on her chest.
When she finally stepped into the hallway, she leaned against the wall, closing her eyes. Her body ached from exhaustion. She hadn’t slept properly in days.
As she caught her breath, voices drifted from the nurses’ station just around the corner.
“…and I heard he was brought in last night,” one nurse was saying.
“Who?” the other asked curiously.
“Ares Langford,” came the whisper.
Tessa’s eyes opened slowly.
She froze, heart skipping a beat.
The first nurse continued, lowering her voice. “Yeah. They said he got into an accident late last night. Came in with a woman. Both drunk.”
“No way!” the second nurse gasped. “Here? In this hospital?”
“Yes! The staff from the ER said they recognized him immediately. Thank God nothing serious happened. Just a few bruises, mild head injury.”
The other nurse sighed in relief. “Poor guy. With his mom in a coma, I don’t blame him for drinking. He must be going through hell.”
Tessa’s throat tightened.
Her mind reeled.
He was here?
In this hospital? Last night?
And with a woman? Was it Chloe?
A bitter heat crawled up her neck. She didn’t even know whether to be angry or heartbroken. The thought of him drunk, careless, while his mother lay unconscious made her chest burn.
She pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to steady her breathing.
The nurses kept talking, oblivious to her presence.
“I saw him once at a fundraiser,” one said. “He’s handsome, but he looks… tired. Like someone who’s fighting too much inside.”
“Well, maybe that’s why he drinks,” the other replied sympathetically. “He just needs rest.”
Tessa turned sharply as she walked away, faster and faster, her eyes glistening with restrained fury.
She didn’t want to hear another word.
Didn’t want to imagine the scene, the car, the woman, the alcohol.
Because somehow, deep inside, she already knew who that woman was. Chloe!
Her pulse pounded in her ears as she stepped out into the corridor, the cold air biting against her skin.
“Damn you, Ares,” she muttered, voice trembling with anger. “Your mother’s in a coma, and this is what you’re doing?”
She clutched her phone tightly, staring down at the screen. No message or call from him.
Her reflection in the glass door looked fierce, hurt, disappointed, and barely holding together.
She turned away and walked out.