HEIR Unexpected Love

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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Hailey's POV

The scent of disinfectant permeated the air, mingling with the hum of fluorescent lights overhead and the rhythmic beeping of machines that echoed in my ears. A heavy pipe pressed against my cheeks, while a lighter one rested on the bridge of my nose.

I attempted to open my eyes, but a haze of confusion veiled my vision, making it challenging to focus on anything.

Taking a deep breath, I tried again-this time more deliberately. Gradually, shapes began to materialize around me. I turned my gaze to the right and noticed a tray filled with syringes and vials. Then, shifting slowly to the left, I saw towering machines emitting beeping sounds.

I cautiously lifted my head, but the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights forced me to shut my eyes as a sharp pain pulsed through my skull.

"Where... where am I?" I managed to mutter, struggling with the heaviness of my own words. My entire body felt numb, including my face.

"Where am I?" I repeated, this time with a bit more urgency.

"Doctor! Doctor! She's awake!" A voice pierced the air, an exclamation that triggered another wave of pain in my head and made me wince.

"Hello, it's wonderful to see you awake. You're safe now," said a woman with a radiant smile, dressed in a white gown that matched the softness of her expression. Her words were calm and measured, as if she were speaking to a child.

A nurse? Why am I here with a nurse? What happened to me? I thought, struggling to piece together my circumstances.

"Where am I?" I asked one final time, fixing my gaze intently on her.

"You're in the hospital, my dear, but there's no need to worry; the doctor will be here shortly," she reassured me, her smile unwavering.

"Hospital? Why am I in a hospital? What happened to me?" I queried, a surge of adrenaline coursing through me.

"Save your strength, my dear. All your questions will soon be answered," the nurse replied.

I turned my head away from her, still wincing from the intensity of the pain in my head. A few moments later, a man in his late thirties entered, wearing a white coat. He must be the doctor.

"Hello, ma'am, how are you feeling?" he asked with a friendly smile.

"How do you think I'm feeling, Doc?" I retorted, my frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

"I want to know; that's why I asked," he replied.

"My head feels heavy, and the pain accompanying that heaviness is unbearable. My entire body feels numb, and my face feels strange too," I explained.

"I understand. It's a side effect of the medication we're using to keep you and your baby healthy," he said.

"Wait, what? Baby?" My confusion deepened.

"Yes, ma'am, you're three months pregnant."

At that moment, an unusual strength surged through me as my hand instinctively moved to my belly, where I could feel the small bump.

I closed my eyes, my mind reeling in confusion. My hands remained instinctively on my stomach clutching it as if holding on to a lifeline. A wave of dizziness washed over me as I felt my breath catch my throat. The beeping machines and muted voices grew distant, replaced by the sound of my own racing heartbeat.

"Doctor, I'm bewildered. What happened to me?" I pressed, overwhelmed by the sudden barrage of revelations. I had no recollection of anything-one moment I was unconscious in a hospital bed, and now I was pregnant.

"What has happened to me?" I asked again.

"Wait, you don't remember?" the doctor's voice held a hint of surprise.

"If I did, would I be asking you?" I shot back weakly.

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