The hall glittered with golden light. Crystal chandeliers dripped from the ceiling like raindrops of fire, scattering warmth over the crowd of dignitaries, family, and friends. Musicians played soft strings in the background while servers carried trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres. Everyone assumed it was just another of Ares Langford's grand celebrations—a charity gala, a business success, or perhaps a birthday. No one suspected what was about to unfold.
Ares stood at the center of it all, in a suit that fit him like it had been carved onto his frame. His jaw was set, his dark eyes sharper than ever, but inside, his chest pounded with nerves he hadn't felt in years. He had faced boardrooms, billion-dollar deals, and competitors who wanted him ruined. But nothing compared to this moment.
Chloe entered, radiant in a deep emerald gown that brought out the richness of her brown skin and the brightness of her smile. The room shifted its focus naturally to her, as if she carried her own spotlight. She was elegance and familiarity wrapped in one. For seven years, she had been by Ares's side—supporting him, grounding him, caring for the quadruplets like they were her own blood. Their friendship had grown into something deeper, something steady, though Ares never admitted it out loud until now.
Julian caught Ares's eye from the far side of the room. He gave a slight nod of encouragement. Lady Bianca, seated with Marcus at the front, dabbed her eyes before anything had even begun, as though she already knew.
Ares raised his glass, silencing the hum of voices.
"Family, friends… you've stood by me through storms, through victories, through moments I thought I'd never recover from. Seven years ago, my life changed forever when four little angels came into it. I swore to raise them, to protect them, to give them everything they deserved. And I could not have done it without someone who has become more than a friend to me. Someone who has stood as a mother figure, a confidant, and a light in my darkest hours. Chloe."
The crowd erupted in applause, glances turning toward her as she blushed and covered her mouth with her hand.
Ares set his glass aside. He walked toward her slowly, each step deliberate. When he reached her, he dropped to one knee. Gasps rippled through the crowd. The musicians shifted seamlessly into a romantic melody. A spotlight bathed the two of them in silver glow.
"Chloe," Ares said, his voice steady but thick with emotion, "you've been my strength. You've been the smile that reminds me life goes on. You've been the one the children run to with scraped knees and school projects. And somewhere along the way, I realized I can't imagine a future without you. So today, in front of everyone who matters to me, I want to ask—will you marry me?"
The velvet box snapped open to reveal a diamond so brilliant it caught every shard of light in the room.
Chloe's hands trembled as tears filled her eyes. She nodded quickly, her voice breaking. "Yes. Yes, Ares, I'll marry you."
Cheers filled the hall. Lady Bianca wept openly, clutching Marcus's hand. The children—Kamal, Jamal, Beauty, and Pretty—ran forward, squealing with excitement. They hugged Chloe around the waist, chanting, "Mommy, mommy!" in their sweet, innocent voices.
Ares slid the ring onto Chloe's finger and rose to kiss her softly, to thunderous applause. For the first time in years, he allowed himself to feel unburdened, to believe in happiness again.
Lady Bianca rose from her seat, already barking orders at the wedding planner nearby. "We don't have time to waste! This wedding must be grand, perfect, unforgettable! Flowers, fabrics, venues—I want options by tomorrow."
Julian clapped Ares on the back with a knowing smirk. "You've done it, brother. You finally let yourself live again."
Ares didn't answer. He was too busy staring at Chloe, her hand still trembling in his, her eyes glowing with both shock and joy.
***
Far away, under a moonless night, three women huddled together in a damp, crumbling house. The broken roof let in streaks of pale starlight. Cracks in the walls breathed cold air into the space. It smelled of mold, dust, and forgotten years. But to them, it was freedom.
Tessa sat with her back against the wall, her arms wrapped around her knees. Her body was thin, her once-lustrous hair dull and tangled. Her eyes had aged more than seven years, carrying shadows that only captivity could carve. Beside her, Mariam—tall, wiry, with a scar slashing across her cheek—paced the floor restlessly. Ayisha, the youngest of them, barely in her twenties, pressed her trembling hands together in prayer.
They had escaped. Somehow, miraculously, after years of serving their captors like cattle, after years of burying sisters who didn't survive the annual slaughter, they had made it out. But freedom tasted strange. It came with fear. With hunger. With uncertainty.
Tessa pressed her forehead to her knees. She could still hear the forest in her ears—the barking orders, the whip cracks, the cries of the dying. She could still feel the rough rope burns on her wrists, the way her body had become accustomed to labor, to fetching water, to carrying firewood like a beast of burden.
"We can't stay here long," Mariam muttered, breaking the silence. "They'll search for us. They always search."
Ayisha whimpered. "But where can we go? The villages nearby… they're dangerous. What if they catch us and take us back?"
Tessa lifted her head. Her voice was hoarse, but steady. "We keep moving. Always moving. We stay alive, no matter what. We've survived seven years of hell. We won't let them take us back."
Her words carried weight. Mariam stopped pacing. Ayisha looked at her with something like hope.
But when Tessa closed her eyes, another picture rose unbidden: four little faces. She hadn't seen them since that night. They would be babies no more. Seven years had passed. Would they even remember her face? Would they know her voice? Or had Ares taught them to forget?
Her chest ached with the thought, but she said nothing. The pain was hers to carry.
***
Back at the Langford mansion, the celebration stretched late into the night. Guests danced. Champagne flowed. Chloe wore her ring like it was a crown, her cheeks glowing with endless smiles. Lady Bianca was already in full matriarchal mode, announcing plans, discussing gowns, and reminding everyone that this would be the wedding of the century.
Ares retreated to the balcony for a breath of cool air. From there, he watched the children play with sparklers in the garden, their laughter rising into the night sky. For seven years, they had been his world. He had raised them without falter, determined they would never feel abandoned.
But the memory of that night Chloe had lied to him—telling him Tessa had eloped—still lingered. A sharp thorn in his chest. He told himself he no longer cared. He had buried that pain, replaced it with resolve. Now, with Chloe by his side, there was no reason to dwell on ghosts.
Lady Bianca approached quietly, a shawl draped elegantly around her shoulders. She stood beside her son, admiring the children below. "You've done well, Ares," she said softly. "You've grown into a fine man, a father your children can be proud of."
Ares gave a small nod, his eyes still on the garden. "They're all that matters."
Bianca hesitated before speaking again. "And Chloe. She loves them as if they were her own. She loves you. You'll be happy together."
He turned to look at her, sensing the weight of her tone. "Mother?"
Her eyes glistened. She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. "Isn't it time you let go of the past? Isn't it time you built a future without shadows? Tessa is gone. She eloped, Ares. She abandoned you, abandoned your children. You must stop clinging to her memory. She doesn't deserve it."
At the sound of that name, Ares stiffened. His jaw tightened, his heart clenching with an old, buried fury. He pulled his hand away.
"Don't," he said, his voice low and sharp.
Bianca blinked, startled. "Ares…"
"Don't ever mention that name again." His eyes burned as he turned away, the night breeze whipping at his face. "She doesn't exist to me. She never did."
And without another word, he walked back inside, leaving his mother standing alone on the balcony, her heart heavy with both relief and fear.
For Ares, the past was a grave he refused to dig up again.
But far away, in a ruined house under the stars, the woman he swore to erase from his life sat alive, breathing, broken, but unyielding…dreaming of the day she would see her children again.
And fate, silent and patient, was already weaving their paths back together.