His Dark Angel

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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Prologue

Meet Anna!

Her full name is Anna Smith, the clumsiest girl ever alive on the planet. Her head is always in the cloud and her best skill is tripping in thin air.

With two long braided hair and a large square eyeglasses, she looks like the typical example of a nerd.

Don't judge a book by its cover!

In spite of her nerd looks, she has no intelligence. Unless a person repeats a thing twice to thrice, her head cannot catch up. She barely passed her high school with C minus grade. She always wears a plain t-shirt with straight jeans and has no interest in grabbing people's attention.

Her motto of life is to live a peaceful college life and then get married with her crush. The only thing that she is interested in, is her crush and the only thing she is expert at, is stalking him.

Meet Danish!

His full name is Danish Dawson. He is a perfectionist. He always ranks the first in every subject and in every class.

With his blue-green eyes, slightly tanned skin and black hair, he also ranks the first in his looks in every class he attends. He is 6'4 feet making the tallest among his circle. His jaw line is the greatest weakness of Ms. Clumsy Anna. Along with the looks, he has the perfect sense of dressing.

The amazing thing about him is that he is an heir of The Dawson's enterprise, most successful company. However, the scariest thing about him is his father rules the mafia. As the heir of the mafia, his career is fixed. But, Ms. Clumsy has no idea about it. Only a thing she knows is that she is in love with him.

He fears nobody and is a pro at boxing. His weakness, he has none. He always had a stiff expressionless face and always acts cold to everyone. He hates it when people sticks close with him and always maintain his, so called personal space.

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Anna's p.o.v.

Five years before!

Few strike of lightning roared through the blue-black sky, letting a million droplets of bitter water over my sweating body. It was a gloomy day and a perfect scenario to conceal my crying heart.

No, I wasn't a happy-go-lucky person. And no, I didn't enjoy being a gloomy one either.

Pushing a lock of hair back on my ear, I wiped my tears. The drop of rain pattered on my body, expanding a tiny bit of tingling pain like feeling.

With a heavy heart and slight suffocation out of continuous hiccups, I struggle my legs on the crowded street.

It wasn't my choice neither was it my interest to get soaked on that skin numbing rain. It was just another unlucky day of mine.

Many umbrellas were there, in that crowded yet lonely street that could have given me a shield. But, I found no hand that extended to invite me in.

Well, it's not like I cared anyway.

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