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.

Modern Crime Revenge

Download the Book on the App

(Bella)

It's my two years anniversary this coming weekend and I've been ecstatic about it. My marriage to Dean has been blissful, peaceful and above all our love grew each passing day.

The doorbell rings, pulling me out of my thoughts, I smile knowing Ashley, my best friend is here, I applied my lipstick and take a quick glance at the mirror before hurrying downstairs.

Dean's out on an important business trip and Ashley's inviting me for a girl's night out.

Honestly, I'm in no mood for alcohol, I haven't been feeling too good but Ashley's insisting, and thinking about it now, she's right, it's been long we stepped out. So yeah.

"Hi, darling," I say with a wide smile, giving Ashley a quick kiss on the cheeks. "How do I look?" I spread my arms, expecting her praises.

Her eyes darts on me for a while and then a smile forms. "You look -stunning, as always." She says, her smile spreading across her face.

"Thank you, boo. You look as stunning yourself," I reply and then I tilted my head. "Where are we going?" I ask.

"It's a surprise, but a good time is assured," she says, her smile still in place.

"Alright, but Ash I'm not drinking too much tonight, haven't been feeling too good lately," I say just in case. "Plus you know I'm not good with alcohol,"

"Roger that, now after you," she winks as we exit my penthouse.

******

My eyes slowly opens, adjusting to the light in the room, I'm in bed, and in a strange room.

I straightened up quickly and turned to see Ashley sleeping beside me, and only then did I breath out in relief.

God, last night was--- I can barely even remember a thing, the only thing that I can remember was entering the club with Ashley, laughing and talking through the loud music and then me slowly sipping my first drink.

Everything goes blank afterwards, like it's been erased from my memory or something. I guess I had too much of that amber liquid.

My head hurts, my body feels like it's been hit by a freight train, I'm staying off alcohol for a long time.

Ashley stirs beside me and slowly opens her eyes. "You're awake," she says with a yawn.

I nod but then I ask. "How did I end up here?" I raise my brows, skeptical.

Ashley shrug it off. "We both had much to drink, couldn't drive in that state, so I figured we should crash here,"

I nod again, not remembering anything isn't even helpful at all but I'm grateful Ashley has us sorted out.

"Thanks, Ash. We should wash up and leave, I need to pickup Dean's anniversary gift," a smile finds it's way to my face as I say this.

Ashley gives me a tiny smile. "Right, we should."

Read Now