HIS UNWORTHY MATE by PWIXXARD

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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~JADE~

I awoke to a numbing pain in my limbs, a headache threatening to split my forehead open, and my eyes aching as I rubbed them open to an unfamiliar ceiling. Confusion slowly sets in as I rub my eyes a little more to rid myself of the blurriness in my vision while staring at the alien ceiling.

It's not possible that I could be dreaming at this moment or that I suddenly do not recognise the ceiling of my home. I've been waking up to the ceiling in my bedroom for two years, and I am certain it is not painted this absurd red colour with a ridiculous chandelier hanging down from it.

My body cries out in protest as I push up on the bed, my eyes trailing off the ceiling as I take in the unfamiliar view of the bedroom. My mind races with different questions while I try to recall any memories from last night-how I fell asleep, when, and what I was doing in a strange room.

Nothing quite makes sense until I hear a deep groan beside me and my head snaps to the side with so much speed that I almost gave myself whiplash.

"Morning." The owner of the voice greets me with a smug grin.

I had to take a moment to myself, blinking rapidly while trying to process my thoughts and what I was seeing. Or perhaps who was lying right next to me on the bed, and how I did not think to even check if I was alone or with someone.

"Why the hell are you sharing a bed with me?" I yell, all the while trying to reign in the anger in my voice.

"What do you mean?" He pushes forward, reaching his hand out as I put more distance between us on the bed. "Don't you remember last night?" He smiles widely, licking his lips seductively as I blink.

"Are you okay? Stop touching me, the fuck." I slapped his hand away from my shoulder while scrambling to pull more of the bed sheet to cover my naked upper body.

I didn't need anyone to tell me I was naked under this sheet. I can feel the cold fabric against my skin and the cool air from the air conditioner with every movement I make. My immediate problem here is, how the hell did I get in bed with this asshole?

"Come on now, Jade, stop acting so oblivious. You enjoyed yourself last night. I can still vividly remember how sexy your voice sounded when you moaned and the pretty face you made when I made you climax."

My hand moved before I could make sense of the ringing noise in my head as I slapped the smug smile off his face.

"Do you have a death wish?" I screamed at him,

"What the hell are you talking about? Are you fucking playing with me? I enjoyed it?! If you're the last person on earth, I'd rather end my life than let you touch me. What the fuck is wrong with you, creeping into the same bed as your girlfriend's sister?"

I was losing my calm with every passing second, and the sound of the annoying laughter sputtering out of him didn't help my anger.

"You don't remember what happened? I brought your drunk ass into this room so you could sleep because Arya begged me to, but you were all over me and wouldn't let me leave. You begged me to touch you." Darren remarked mockingly.

"I..." No, there is no way in hell I would do that.

"I don't drink; everyone knows I don't drink alcohol." My senses were screaming at me, but I ignored them, shaking my head at the mere possibility of the nonsense Darren had just sprouted.

Me? Begging him to touch me, drunk out of my mind? There is no way in hell. That can't be me. Yet every attempt I made to remember what happened last night seemed futile.

'Levana, do you remember what happened last night?' I called for my wolf, hoping she would help jolt my memory because the last thing I remembered did not correlate with anything this bastard had just said. I was met with silence as I called for Lev again.

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