Shopia

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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Rocky Bai woke up in a sweat, confusion filling his wide eyes. It felt like he had just woken up from a nightmare. Gasping for air, he soon noticed something was amiss. His arms held him up at once. The scene coming into his eyes knocked him down like a feather.

He was greeted with the sight of a luxurious and splendid room decked with classic decoration. There were no lamps or lights in here, but it was as bright as day. He was lying in a comfortable bed with a golden silk quilt, white tulle encircling it on all sides. Rocky Bai felt like he was lying on an imperial bed. Through the white tulle, Rocky Bai could see plenty of gold and jade objects on a cabinet. He could tell that each of them was worth at least a million.

Everything Rocky Bai saw caught him by surprise, and then a sudden thought popped into his head: 'Where am I?" What he last remembered was being on the way to a meeting. He had been invited by the International Animal Genome Center to deliver a keynote speech. Rocky Bai, a young and talented scholar in the field of gene study, ranked number one among his peers. No one in the whole world could surpass him in the field of gene study until now. While he was on the flight heading for the venue, an aircraft accident occurred right before he passed out. Now, he was in a strange room.

It was impossible that this was hell. But if this was heaven, how could everything around him feel so real? Wasn't it said that only the soul could go to heaven when someone died? Souls couldn't feel anything physically, right? But his senses were so real and substantial. He could feel not only the softness and comfort of the bed, but also the warmth coming from someone under the quilt next to him.

Rocky was shocked to find someone lying next to him. Cautiously, he slowly opened the quilt, hoping not to awaken his companion. He was greeted with the sight of an elegant female body. She was lying in his arms. From where Rocky was, he could only see half of her face. Despite that, he could tell the girl in his arms was only about sixteen.

He observed her for a while. She was dressed in a white night robe and wore golden ornaments on her head, wrists and feet. She looked imperial, like she had been born into the lap of luxury.

Rocky could not help but swallow nervously. He thought he was really in heaven. Otherwise, how could he have such a beauty be sleeping in his arms? A smile crept over his lips as he was wondering what other benefits he would get in heaven.

Dirty thoughts came into his head. All of a sudden, the girl groaned faintly in her sleep and shifted her position. Her face left Rocky's shoulder as she turned to the other side. Rocky froze as he saw her features. Her face was like a masterpiece of God.

Without any makeup, her features were as delicate as a porcelain doll. Her eyelashes, long and curly, fluttered as she breathed. She had an incredibly cute upturned nose, and her rosebud lips looked as sweet as candies, alluring Rocky to have a taste. Although she was young, she carried an enchanting air with mature femininity. He could tell thousands of men would pursue her when she grew up.

'Stop Rocky! Stop staring at her! She is only a young girl! What the hell are you thinking about her?' Rocky shook his head and quit looking at her right away. His face flushed as his heart pounded. He was a man in his thirties after all. He still could control himself even with such a beauty next to him. He tried to calm down by reminding himself that she was only a little girl for his age, and guilt flooded his chest.

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