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.

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"Elena, our family has given you everything for the past twenty-three years, yet this is how you repay us? Such ingratitude! Gather your things and return to that rundown village to find your real parents!"

In front of Elena Reed stood a wealthy middle-aged woman draped in an exquisite gown, her wrists adorned with gold and diamond bangles. Her sharp gaze bore into Elena with evident contempt.

This middle-aged woman, Cecily Reed, was the one Elena had addressed as "mother" her entire life. Now, Cecily clutched another girl who bore an uncanny resemblance to her.

The girl, Sylvia Reed, looked up at Cecily, her tone tripped with mock consideration. "Mom, don't be mad. I'm sure Elena didn't mean any harm. She's just struggling to accept that your love and Dad's belong to me now. Please don't hold it against her..."

Cecily's expression softened as she looked down at Sylvia. Then, Cecily shot Elena a look with scorn. "She's the imposter—the one who stole the life meant for you. While you suffered all these years, she basked in wealth and privilege. It's only right that she faces the consequences!"

A fleeting glint of triumph flickered in Sylvia's eyes, quickly replaced by the perfect mask of innocence.

Earlier, Sylvia had shattered a glass downstairs, letting the shards cut her skin, and then framed Elena for it. Sylvia's parents immediately jumped to the assumption that Elena was to blame, dismissing any chance for Elena to defend herself.

Determined to banish Elena for good, Sylvia watched her with revulsion. Elena had stolen her rightful place for too long.

Elena's flawless features only fueled Sylvia's resentment.

Elena's—now Sylvia's—father, Benjamin Reed frowned at Elena, his face full of distaste. "To think you'd be capable of such cruelty—trying to scar Sylvia's face! With a heart as wicked as yours, you don't deserve to stay in Foiclens. I've already sent for your real parents. Get your belongings together and prepare to return to Cloudstream Village immediately."

For a time, Benjamin had considered keeping Elena. After all, they had invested years in raising her. Even if she wasn't suited to marry Darren Griffiths, the wealthy heir, she could have been useful in securing another alliance through marriage.

But Elena had supposedly hurt Sylvia and ruined every matchmaking attempt he arranged for her. Now that Elena was of no use, Benjamin saw no reason to keep her.

Elena lowered her gaze, a bitter smirk playing on her lips. The true colors of the Reed family had become painfully clear.

The Reeds had risen to prominence in Foiclens years ago.

Then, two months prior, Benjamin had fallen ill, requiring a blood transfusion. That was when they discovered Elena's blood type was Rh-negative—proof that she wasn't their daughter.

Immediately, the Reed family had pulled every string to locate their biological child: Sylvia.

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