DREAM LOVER FALCONE

Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance

Roderic Penn

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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I felt the blanket move as if someone was pulling it. Before I could react I felt the warm palm on my back.

I opened my eyes and saw it was still dark outside. Anyway what else is new? He always comes every night and leaves at dawn. It doesn’t come until it was dark and wouldn't leave before the break of the dawn.

Then I had this moment, like every moment that I always have whenever he showed up. A moment where my mind said to close my eyes and tell him that he needed to leave.

But I knew, that when I did that, he would go away. I know he will go without saying a word and he will never come back.

He would leave her as silently as he came.

But I also knew it was the right thing to do. No one in their right mind would tolerate something like this. Having a secual affair with someone thwy barely know for more than two years. Someone they hadn't seen before on broad daylight. I too, can barely remember what his face looks like. I have wanted to do this for a long time now. God knows how long I have been meaning to tell him to leave.

Then, I felt the bed sink, and I felt him lie down, and pulled me closer to him. I opened my mouth and was about to speak, but before I could do that, his mouth hit mine.

And in the hours that followed, I didn’t think at all.

But I felt. And I felt good and that was alot.

Two hours passed by easily and it was still dark, when I felt him move.

I just lay on the bed as I watched him move. He doesn’t even make a noise. Which, is weird. All you can hear is the sound of clothes being adjusted and being worn. Which is like listening to nothing.

Although I couldn't see him, I see his shadow move and from what I could see, even in his shadow, he had a masculine grace when he moved.

A masculine grace that is powerful. Again, it's weird. Just seeing my dream lover dressing up. it's like I'm watching a badass, macho dance, if there is one. But of course, we all know that there is no such thing and that only happens in my room every time he gets dressed when he visits me. No. Whenever he needed to leave.

Watching him dress is so addicting that I thought, maybe I can sell tickets at Manila bay for this show. For sure I'm going to be rich if I do that. But I know I'll also have to share him. Thinking of sharing him and letting someone watch him get dressed messed up my mind.

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