Fixing Hearts Request

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 Kickass Heroine Hidden identities Revenge

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Chapter 1

15 years ago

April

Monday is the worst day for me and it's because it's the beginning of the week hence a long transition to Friday- my favorite day into the weekend mostly because i love staying at home. If schooling wasn't a necessity or mandatory, i would totally buy the idea of staying at home for the rest of my life but education is the greatest gift you can give a child.

My parents forced that quote into my brain since i was born. They wanted me to be successful, who could blame them.

I step into the hallway and something unusual caught my eyes. People staring at me like i am the best thing since sliced bread but then again, i am no sliced bread, in fact, I'm the opposite in the worst way. Overly big glasses, braces, two sectioned cornrows, bright rainbow-colored armless turtleneck sweater, calf-length pleated skirt, and flats aren't exactly a sight to see except to make fun of which i guess they're doing but then again, even that has never happened before. I was invisible even with my appearance way before now so what changed?

Did i wake up uglier?

"April!" Iris my best friend tapped my shoulder from the back and i turn to accommodate her in sight.

"Hey, sorry i took off on Saturday, i got crushed..."

Iris cut me off

"You haven't been online have you?"

"No, what's there to see?" I take out a textbook from my locker.

"This" she shoves an image on her phone to my face

"What the hell!" I whisper in shock and bewilderment

My whole fucking love confession to Jordan on Messenger was sent to the entire school.

Unable to fight back the tears, i hurry into the toilet.

"Who did this?" I sniffle as i pace back and forth, shameful tears pouring down my cheeks.

"Did you tell him about it on Saturday?"

I think it's high time i told you about what happened on Saturday. The worst day of my life.

******

Prom day, an opportunity for high schoolers to dress to kill, elect king and queen, make-out session and other engagements but i, on the other hand, was on a mission to tell Jordan i have a crush on him. Call me crazy but i own a relationship podcast that encourages the need to always express your feelings to someone you like cause life is too short to be regretful. I am about to listen to my own words and follow my podcast advice.

Thanks to Iris for encouraging me to do this cause honestly, i don't think i might be able to pull this off on my own. She gave me the push i needed. I tried to look less April tonight by squeezing my body in a bandage midi-length gown that once in a while cease my breathing and my mum's red bottom ankle straps. I part my 4c hair in the center, i ditched my glasses for black contact lens but my braces were a no-no. Asides that, i almost looked like Jordan's spec. Or so i thought.

After seeing Jordan alone at the far end of the ball, it was now or never. I took a deep breath before making my way to him. Take control God.

"Hi" i slowly reduce the size of my grin after noticing it was too wide

"Hey April" he gives me his admirable dimpled smile. He's perfect, too perfect and this was a big mistake-no it's not, you're already here so go for it-ok.

I always lose to my subconscious self.

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