The Quadruplets Are Mine?

Chapter 151

The Quadruplets Are Mine? Chapter 151

Quentin had no choice. He bent down, preparing to give Alana CPR.

Before he could do so, Alana drew in a deep gulp of air and wheezed, “I…I’m much better now.”

Quentin straightened up, feeling considerably relieved; however, he could not help being somewhat disappointed as well.

Alana took another few labored breaths, then gave Abel her most pitiful look.

Abel deliberately averted his gaze and refused to look at her. Instead, he told Quentin, “Take her back to the hospital, Dr. Anderson. Make sure nothing happens to her.”

“Abel…” Alana protested, pouting

all teary-eyed like a spoiled child.

“I’ll visit you later.” Abel gestured impatiently and turned away.

“Let’s go, Ms. Lane,” Dr. Anderson murmured, wheeling her downstairs.

“All of you, leave now,” Abel ordered. “Everything’s fine here.”

Luca hurriedly ushered everyone out of the room like a mother hen herding a disobedient brood.

Abel stopped him at the door before he left as well. “Luca, give the children breakfast, then send them to kindergarten.”

“Yes, Mr. Abel. I’ll do that.”

door firmly in

face.

invaded the room. “Oh shit, oh shit, how the hell am I going to show my face

“There’s no need to fear rumors if we haven’t done anything wrong,

them and tell them nothing happened between us. Who’s going to believe you?” Emmeline

admit she

without doing anything about it, they would suspect he was either lying or something was wrong with

at that moment, Emmeline’s phone

down on a lemon. It must be Benjamin, calling to

he glanced at her phone screen, the name on the display read, “Film

set?” Abel blinked. “What film

up the

“Yes, Mr. Faughn?”

Simon replied. “Everyone’s here on set except

that she had taken on a stunt job with the film crew. Her face burned. “Yes, yes, everything’s okay. I haven’t forgotten about the stunt job, Mr. Faughn! Something came up, that’s all. I’ll be there in half an hour! I’m

Just get here as soon as you can;

Abel leaned over and stared at her full

much that she pulled the covers up

back involuntarily. “What are you doing?

of your mind, taking a stunt job? Has being poor stunted your

bereft of speech for a good few seconds before she pulled herself together enough to retort, “That’s right, being poor

pulled out a bank card. “Is ten million enough? If not, I can give

more.

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