Stalking The Smut Slut by Kasey Rogness

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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DONNA KIRBY's POV:

Life is good. Especially when we are in a library filled with lots and lots of books. And being a library assistant is extremely wonderful. All thanks to my best friend, Jackson. He's the owner of this famous library in Illerora city. The most dedicated, perfect man. The one and only childhood friend I have got.

Speaking of which, my childhood is the worse. The parents I have got are always dependable on someone. As I grew up, I'm not only earning for myself but helping them financially whenever they need me. Bearing all this pain by myself as a single daughter is the ultimate stress.

“Excuse me, can you… can you tell me where is…” a woman in her twenties sputtered. She adjusted her specs, looking everywhere like she was hiding from someone. She must be the version of me in high school. A nerd with so much fear visible on her face. An invisible girl. I'm twenty-three. I bet she's close to my age.

“What are you looking for, ma'am?”

“Um, it's… you know...it's…”

“Are you looking for a particular book?”

“No...it's a section. A specific section…”

“I gotta find and borrow it. I don't like attention. Urghh.”She muttered to herself.

“You got to say the section's name?" I asked after a minute of silence.

“Erotica section and I need some suggestions.” She said it out loud and caught a few people's attention.

“Shit.” She tapped her foot on the floor in anger with her herself. It doesn't have to be such a big deal. She's just afraid that someone might judge her. There's nothing to judge.

“Follow me.” I guided her to the right section and introduced a few of the popular books. After a while, she thanked me and went to the counter, clutching the books tightly. With satisfaction, I walked by, taking a turn among all the bookshelves, feeling like it's a labyrinth.

“Damn it, I'm so sorry.” I shrieked as I stepped on someone's foot.

“Nothing to be sorry for. How was the interaction with a teenager? I bet you got a lot of books in your mind to recommend.” I looked at Jackson. His wavy black hair and blue eyes catch my eyes every time. He must have heard the conversation.

“Stop it. Don't you have any work to be done? An owner shouldn't be lethargic at work times.” I told him, flipping my auburn hair.

“I have got enough workers to even handle my works. Anyway, what did you suggest? Fifty shades of grey, punk 57, credence…” As he continued, I pressed my hands on his lips, silencing him.

“Something popular and awesome. If you are going to ask if I have read it, don't ask it. You know I'm into every genre in books.”

Jackson smiled, removing my hand slowly.

“Fine. So, is there anything else you got to talk with me?” He followed me as I'm walking towards the fantasy section to arrange the newly arrived books.

“Nothing,” I replied, avoiding his gaze. I'm trying so hard to forget the thing that happened a week ago. I swear he's going to take the topic again.

“Look at me, Donna. I know what you have been hiding from me.”Jackson seriously spoke this time.

“Doesn't this hardcover look splendid?” I changed the topic, touching the book softly like it's fragile.

“Donna Kirby, I know you are going to resign from being a library assistant in my store.” Jackson pulled me towards him, holding both of my hands.

“Jackson Torres, I have fucking dropped a hardcover. Let me pick it up.” I shouted, glaring at him. His face softened after a tense moment.

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