Barren Heiress Returns With Quadruplet

Ellen’s POV

As we stepped out of the black luxury limousine, the buzz of excitement enveloped us. I flashed a smile towards the cameras, waving graciously to those who cared.

I don’t give a fuck about anyone of them.

Trying to keep up with my elegant poses and fake smiles, my attention was quickly diverted as I noticed the way the ladies were swooning over Gabriel.

He had always been a dickhead and known for his playboy attitude. Suppressing a snort of disgust, I reminded myself to keep my feelings in check.

Walking hand in hand with my father, I felt a sense of pride and anticipation. Tonight is Liz’s fight day, and the atmosphere crackled with electricity. My mother, on the other hand, is linked arm in arm with Gabriel, who’s basking in the attention.

As we made our way into the arena, we were guided to the front row seats reserved for our family. The view was perfect, and I could feel the excitement building within me.

Tonight was not just about Liz’s fight; it’s about supporting her and celebrating her achievements. And I’m ready to cheer her on every step of the way.

You wish! That’s for the headlines. I gave a sly smile at my thoughts.

Contrary to what the media is covering, Liz’s fight is supposed to help boost the Manor’s name in good light. No one really gives a fuck about her fight. She always wins anyways.

As we settled into our seats, a smirk played across my lips as I glanced around the arena. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation. The bright lights illuminated the expansive space, casting dramatic shadows across the crowd. The scent of sweat and excitement hung in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of concession stand popcorn.This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

Jumbotron screens hung overhead, displaying larger-than-life images of past fights and highlights.

Mostly won by Liz.

At least here, the organizers have shown us the respect we deserve despite still receiving persecution from the media. It’s a stark contrast to the treatment I received from my own handlers. But I would make sure they would forever regret backing out on my concert.

The roar of the crowd brought me back to the present moment, and I turned my attention to the ring where the announcers about made their entrances.

A young lady dressed in very skimpy clothing, alongside a male in mask, bare chested with a black leather pants and boots on. The lady quieted the audience, and made an announcement for Liz’s opponent.

As the announcement for Crazy Tina reverberated through the arena, her fans erupted into cheers, their voices echoing against the walls. However, their enthusiasm was quickly drowned out by the tidal wave of boos emanating from Liz’s devoted supporters.

In the center of the ring, Crazy Tina stood with an air of confidence, her body language exuding strength and determination. She moved with grace, showcasing her skills to her cheering crowd. But amidst the cheers, my brother Gabriel couldn’t resist making a crude comment.

“She would have been so good in bed with that body and those long legs. Sadly she’ll get beaten by Liz. Tsk tsk tsk.” He remarked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

His words earned him a gentle smack on the head from our disapproving mother, while our father shot him a stern look of admonishment.

Suppressing the urge to roll my eyes, I shot Gabriel a withering glare before discreetly raising my middle finger at him and silently mouthing, “Fuck you.”

He made a face and returned his focus to the ring.

As the male announcer’s booming voice filled the arena, he hailed Liz as the undefeated state champion, the fiercest Liz! The words resounded through the crowd, bringing to live the loud cheers from all corners of the arena. Liz’s reputation was a force to be reckoned with in the world of MMA.

And then, amidst the thunderous applause, Liz made her grand entrance. The lights dimmed, casting a spotlight on the entrance ramp as her entrance music filled the air. With each beat, anticipation mounted, until finally, she emerged from behind the curtains.

Draped in her signature walkout robe, Liz exuded confidence and determination with every step she took. Her gaze was focused, unwavering, as she made her way towards the ring, her presence commanding the attention of everyone in the arena.

The crowd erupted into a deafening roar, their cheers reaching a crescendo as Liz climbed through the ropes and into the ring. It was a moment of pure adrenaline, of raw energy pulsating through the air.

“Liz! Liz! Liz!” The chant reverberated through the arena.

Glancing across the arena, I noticed a smaller contingent of fans cheering for her opponent, Tina. But as they start their chant, they’re quickly drowned out by boos from Liz’s devoted supporters.

As we rose to our feet, joining the chorus of cheers for Liz, cameras flashed around us, capturing the moment from every angle.

That’s it assholes!

As the shutters clicked and the flashes illuminated the arena, I couldn’t help but imagine the headlines that would soon grace the pages of newspapers and magazines. “The Manors: A Family United in Support.” While another headline could proclaim, “Manors Clan Unites Behind Liz: Love and Strength in the Face of Adversity.”

That’s why we’re here. The headlines would challenge the current news surrounding our damned family name.

As Liz raised her fists to the thunderous cheers of her fans, a sudden commotion erupted as a swarm of reporters flooded into the arena. Some rushed towards the ring, eager to ask questions and capture her puzzled look, while others made their way towards our seats.

That puzzled look on her face was on ours twice as much!

Confusion rippled through the crowd as the reporters descended, their cameras and microphones poised for action. I exchanged a puzzled glance with my family as the reporters approached, unsure of what was unfolding.

Suddenly, Mr. Finley, my dad’s right hand man appeared and leaned in to whisper something urgently into my father’s ear. I watched as my father’s expression shifted from confusion to anger, his jaw tensing with frustration.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice barely audible above the din of the crowd.

Mr. Finley glanced around before replying in a hushed tone, “There’s been a breach of security. We need to handle it immediately.”

I wasn’t satisfied.

My father’s face darkened with anger as he surveyed the scene unfolding before us. Without a word, he nodded to Mr. Finley, who quickly sprang into action.

“Instruct them to take everything down now!” My father instructed, his voice firm and commanding.

Mr. Finley nodded in understanding before turning to issue orders to the reporters, directing them to cease their activities. I saw him whisper to Max who disappeared within minutes.

As people in the arena suddenly became engrossed in their phones, my brows furrowed in curiosity. Something wasn’t right.

Then, my own phone pinged, drawing my attention. Opening the message, I found a link in my inbox. Clicking on it, I was met with video footages of Liz bullying, beating and threatening Kamille.

What the fuck?!

I quickly visited the live streams of the fight and everywhere was in chaos. But what caught me off guard were the hateful comments and abuse being hurled at Liz in the live stream comments section. Where the hell did this come from? A second they’re adoring her and the next, they’re abhorring her. Dirty weasels!

I turned to look at my parents who obviously knew what was going on, their expressions mirrored my shock and concern as they watched in silence, the weight of the situation sinking in.

Just then, the announcer’s voice cut through the murmurs of the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, we regret to inform you that the fight will not proceed due to unforeseen issues concerning our champion fighter, Ms Liz.” He looked at her and gestured her out of the ring.

As Liz was escorted out of the ring, protected from the swarm of reporters but surrounded by enough guards, my family and I were also ushered out by our security team.

Inside the limousine that had brought us to the venue, frustration boiled within me. “Why the fuck can’t our family catch a break? They’re even still tormenting Liz over that dead bitch!” I yelled, unable to contain my anger.

No one said anything. My parents had grim expressions on as though they were fighting hard to maintain composure. Gabriel was busy surfing the internet. Combing for any news at all he could get his hands on.

Damn it!

Upon arriving home, Gabriel quickly switched on the TV, and we were met with an even more shocking news. The leader of the MMA organization was stripping Liz of her title and privileges as a fighter, citing charges of high-level assault against a non fighter. Liz had been detained and we could do no fucking thing at the moment.

I sighed, slumping into a chair, feeling a sense of helplessness wash over me. The weight of the situation pressed down on me, leaving me grappling for answers in a sea of uncertainty.

This is not good.