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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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On the seventeenth day of the eighth lunar month, YT Group's 27-year-old CEO, Brody Ye, and the 21-year-old daughter of the SU Group, Tracy Su, took their marriage vows. On this auspicious day, the Ye Family's luxurious mansion was decked out in festive decorations in celebration for the joy and expectations of the event.

Later that night, at half past eleven, Tracy Su stumbled up the stairs in a white dress.

"Bang!"

The bedroom door was suddenly thrust open by her. When she turned around and prepared to close the door behind her, a handsome yet devilish face suddenly filled her vision.

Her hand instantly froze on the doorknob, and the fear in her eyes expanded. She wanted to run, but it seemed as if her feet had taken root to the spot, and she could not move.

"Run, run away! Why don't you run?"

Brody Ye said expressionlessly from where he stood at the door. His cold voice seemed to cut to the bone and chilled her to the marrow.

Hearing the malicious voice, Tracy Su came to her senses and withdrew her hand from the doorknob. Then she spun around and ran towards the window.

However, as she opened the window–

"Come back here–"

An angry voice sounded, and then Tracy Su was pulled by a strong force, and her back collided with a strong chest.

Instantly, the window was slammed shut.

"Let me go, Brody! Why did you do this to me? Do you hate me so?" Tracy Su shouted as she struggled in Brody Ye's vice-grip arms.

She was the pitiful image of misery, but her newly wedded husband was unmoved by her tears.

She looked up at him with large fear-filled eyes, remembering that only moments before he had been in the living room and had treated her so disrespectfully in front of the servants. To do that kind of thing to her in public.

She was afraid of the kind of man she had married.

Brody Ye clamped his hands over her struggling hands and smiled coldly. "You have clearly overestimated yourself. If you want to know why, you should go ask your father. But first, since you are now married to me, you should fulfill your duty as my wife."

"No, don't do that..." With her eyes shining with innocent tears, Tracy looked at her husband with great fear.

What he said made no sense for her. She had no concept of what had happened between her father and him, or of what kind of hatred had resulted because of it.

She didn't know why, but her father had suddenly ordered her to marry Brody. Neither did she have thought that this strange husband her father had chosen would be so cold and ruthless.

"No matter whether you want it or not, it's not up to you anymore!"

What Brody said stripped Tracy's nerves raw. Instinctively, she nervously clenched her fingers onto the fabric of her dress.

"Brody, you should know that no matter what kind of grudge you hold against my father, it is a matter between you and him, and it has nothing to do with me. It is unfair to punish me."

Tracy shivered in his arms, hoping to appeal to his humanity.

However, Brody moved to grab her. Tracy continued to try and push him away, and she helplessly beat her fists on his chest.

She felt wronged. She had not accepted her forced marriage to Brody, and she was the victim, but now it seemed that all the blame was being laid at her door.

"Unfair to you? Hasn't your father told you what he has done? It's something worse than a beast. Or perhaps he doesn't dare to tell you what he has done? Is everything he does fair to me?"

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