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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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RAINA

My body ached in ways I couldn't describe, and in places I couldn't name. My skin was sticky with perspiration, and my muscles were trembling from hours in labor.

The feeling of motherhood, for however briefly I'd just come into it-was so surreal that I could hardly believe it. Despite having nine long months to prepare my mind, nothing could have truly prepared me for the actual feeling.

'I'm a mother now,' I thought, though my heart still hurt as I lay in the hospital bed, gazing at what could possibly be my greatest fulfillment as a woman.

My newborn twins.

My heart filled with joy and pride as I watched them - my beautiful boy and girl swaddled beside me - but the feeling was almost completely eclipsed by a gnawing sense of unease-one I had become all too acquainted with over the years.

Despite the air conditioner, the sterile room still felt... stifling.

But the coldest presence loomed over me with his broad shoulders and cruelly handsome, emotionless face.

My husband.

He just stood there, regarding me as if I were something to be discarded. Maybe I was. I mean, I had just delivered our babies, our future, and he couldn't even offer a smile. No words of comfort.

No, "I'm proud of you."

How I yearned to hear even just that.

I held my breath, waiting for something- anything - to break the silence, but what came next was the last thing I expected.

When he moved, it wasn't to cradle our children or to brush a tender hand against my hair. Instead, he wordlessly tossed a stack of papers onto my lap.

"Sign them." He ordered, cold and detached.

His words took a moment to register.

I blinked- my eyes still hazy from the exhaustion of pushing two little humans out of me. Sign what? I looked down at the papers, then back at him in confusion. "I'm sorry, what-"

"The divorce papers," he cut in harshly, as though it should've been obvious.

My heart dropped - my stomach twisting painfully.

What?

"Here," His voice was clipped as he tossed me a pen. His movements were so impatient; one would think all this was an inconvenience to him and not someone who'd just spent the last few hours in labor.

"What–" My breath caught in my throat as I stared at the papers again in disbelief. What was going on? I had literally just given birth to his children. He couldn't be serious.

A divorce?

"I- I don't understand, I just gave birth-" My voice cracked.

"And you're damn lucky those kids are even mine!" His tone oozed with venom. "I had the doctors run a DNA test the minute they were born." My mouth fell open. "Had the results shown otherwise... believe me when I say I'd have made you and your lover's life miserable."

I reeled back in shock - the feeling so acute, it was dizzying. He'd done what? My what? The accusation hit me like a physical blow. My brain scrambled to make sense of the words as I struggled to breathe, my pulse thundering in my ears.

"Alex, what..." I choked out. "What lover?" Did he think I'd cheated on him? After I'd spent practically every second showing him how much he meant to me? "What are you talking about?"

"You're not fooling anyone, Raina." He spat, stepping closer. "Now, sign them."

Tears pricked my eyes.

"Is this some kind of joke?" It had to be! "I don't know what–"

"Oh, spare us the theatrics, Raina! We all know what's been going on." Vanessa, his sister, snarled from a corner of the room, stepping forward- I hadn't even noticed her. "So do us a favor and stop...fucking...pretending!"

My mind raced. This wasn't happening. No, it really couldn't be happening. Was I in a coma and living my worst nightmare?

"I'm not-" I started, but she flung a pile of photographs at me- some landing haphazardly on the bed, some fluttering to the floor.

Wincing, I pushed myself into a sitting position and reached for one with trembling hands. Seeing was difficult through the blur of tears. My breathing was labored, coming out rapid and shallow. "A- Alexander, listen-"

"Enough!" He barked furiously, before I'd even had a chance to see the glossy images. "Stop wasting my time and sign the damn papers, you whore!"

A whore? Me- his wife?

Where was this from? What was happening?

His words stung- like a needle lodging itself painfully in my chest.

Oh God, was he being serious then, about... ending this? Ending us?

Panic clawed at the insides of my throat as I began hyperventilating - my body shaking uncontrollably as the room began to spin.

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