Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance

I stood at my mother's open grave in the freezing rain, my heels sinking into the mud. The space beside me was empty. My husband, Hilliard Holloway, had promised to cherish me in bad times, but apparently, burying my mother didn't fit into his busy schedule. While the priest's voice droned on, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a livestream of the Metropolitan Charity Gala. There was Hilliard, looking impeccable in a custom tuxedo, with his ex-girlfriend Charla English draped over his arm. The headline read: "Holloway & English: A Power Couple Reunited?" When he finally returned to our penthouse at 2 AM, he didn't come alone-he brought Charla with him. He claimed she'd had a "medical emergency" at the gala and couldn't be left alone. I found a Tiffany diamond necklace on our coffee table meant for her birthday, and a smudge of her signature red lipstick on his collar. When I confronted him, he simply told me to stop being "hysterical" and "acting like a child." He had no idea I was seven months pregnant with his child. He thought so little of my grief that he didn't even bother to craft a convincing lie, laughing with his mistress in our home while I sat in the dark with a shattered heart and a secret life growing inside me. "He doesn't deserve us," I whispered to the darkness. I didn't scream or beg. I simply left a folder on his desk containing signed divorce papers and a forged medical report for a terminated pregnancy. I disappeared into the night, letting him believe he had successfully killed his own legacy through his neglect. Five years later, Hilliard walked into "The Vault," the city's most exclusive underground auction, looking for a broker to manage his estate. He didn't recognize me behind my Venetian mask, but he couldn't ignore the neon pink graffiti on his armored Maybach that read "DEADBEAT." He had no clue that the three brilliant triplets currently hacking his security system were the very children he thought had been erased years ago. This time, I wasn't just a wife in the way; I was the one holding all the cards.

Modern Crime Revenge

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"How about you divorce her on the grounds of her infertility?"

Standing outside the door, Rebecca Dixon felt cold all over. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that she would ever hear her mother-in-law utter such words. She thought his mother liked her.

She was infertile?

She and Yosef Swain got married for commercial benefits. A month before their wedding, Yosef met a car accident and sustained a leg injury so serious that it almost required an amputation. Everyone warned Rebecca not to marry him, but she thought that she had to keep her promise and married him regardless of all objections.

They had been married for more than a year, and Yosef had been receiving physical therapy. The two of them had never had sex, but Yosef was now going to divorce her on the grounds of her infertility.

"Dixon Group is in big trouble. They have a deficit of more than one billion dollars. Timothy Dixon died in an accident when he went to deal with the matter. I'm afraid Rebecca will have to inherit all the company's problems. If you don't divorce her quickly, it will definitely affect our family. The reason why we let you marry Rebecca is because we wanted the Dixon family and the Swain family to support each other and go further, not us to be dragged down by them. What do you think, Yosef?"

Rebecca clenched her teeth and trembled all over. Yosef would refuse, wouldn't he? She had done her best to take care of him and help him with his recovery. She had been a good wife to him.

"There's no hurry."

While Rebecca was thinking, she heard Yosef refuse. Before she could breathe a sigh of relief, he continued, "Although the Dixon family is in trouble, Timothy still left a lot of things to Rebecca. I'll try my best to persuade her to give everything to me. I'll divorce her after I get them."

"Yosef! How cruel you and your mother are!" she said under her breath.

Rebecca's brain went blank, and she took a step back in a daze, forgetting that there were steps behind her. She missed a step and fell to the floor.

"Who's there?"

Rebecca stood up in a hurry and ran away.

"It's Rebecca. She overheard our conversation. We can't let her run away."

The night was dark, and the rain was getting heavier and heavier.

There was usually heavy traffic on the streets, but on this rainy night, the streets were empty. There was no vehicle in sight at all.

The rain obscured Rebecca's vision, but she kept running, even as her legs and lungs began to burn.

Suddenly, lights flashed in front of her, making her stop dead in her tracks. She raised her hand to block the blinding lights.

Then, the lights started accelerating toward Rebecca. It was only then that she realized that they were a car's headlights.

Rebecca had no time to react. With a bang, the car hit her and sent her flying backwards. She felt like she had just been smashed to pieces, and the pain was so overwhelming that she didn't have enough energy left to scream.

The car stopped, and someone got out of it. That person walked up to her to check on her.

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