The Runaway Heiress And Her Secret Triplets

Chapter 3

Word Count: 584 | Released on: Today at 10:50

air across her face as she stood

and ordered a premium bla

d up to Obsidian, the most exclus

oof doors. The heavy bass of the music

ding bodies on the dance floor and fou

er head back and swallowed the burning liquid in one go. The f

reet thug named Rocco

ail and slid to the empty seat next

n you?" he asked, swirling

ct, and Ansley became drowsy b

ng limply to one side. She rested her elbows on the bar

aling yellow teeth. He reached out, a

whiskey glass. Her fingers locked around the thick gl

ugh the club. The main entrance doors were kicked op

its flooded the floor. They didn't draw weapons, but their sheer size and coordinated, militaristic precision sent a shockwa

a they projected was enough. The DJ threw his hands up and b

parted like the Red Sea, pressing themselves against th

ed path, Kendall James

up the distance. His eyes were like ice, scan

and locked onto the bar. He saw

ated. His heart slam

had searched for every si

dropped ten degrees. He

en have time to

Rocco's wrist. A sickening crack echoed

co backward like a ragdoll. The thug crashed

road frame blocked out all the light. He stared down

Chapter End

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

The Runaway Heiress And Her Secret Triplets

Finley Steele Billionaires

“I opened the door to my penthouse, only to see my stepsister's limited-edition Louboutins discarded on the foyer rug. Walking into the master bedroom, I caught my fiancé and my stepsister tangled naked in my bed. When I went back to the family estate to settle the score, my father didn't even care. Instead, he and my stepmother demanded I take my stepsister's place to save the family's reputation. "You will marry the seventy-year-old billionaire next month. We can't ruin your sister's life," my father ordered. Looking at their hypocritical faces, the last shred of my family affection died completely. They really thought I would just accept being their sacrificial pawn while they stole my mother's legacy. So, I pinned them down with a blackmail video of the affair, extorted my father for my shares, and walked out into the freezing night. To numb the betrayal, I went to an underground club, slept with a terrifyingly powerful stranger, and left a red lipstick note on his forehead. "Your technique sucks. Keep the change." Then, I vanished abroad without a trace. Five years later, I returned to New York with my three children, ready to take back everything that was mine. But I didn't expect that the "cheap gigolo" from that night was actually Kendall James, the most ruthless corporate titan in the city. And he had just spotted my five-year-old son-his exact miniature replica-standing right beside me.”