Seesaw taejin

The Billionaire's Secret Triplets: Mom's Revenge

HONEY MULLINS

Six years ago, I was a naive girl sold by my father to the powerful Sanders estate, only to be tossed onto the streets after a brutal assault they labeled "marital infidelity." I fled the country pregnant and broken, hiding from the shadow of a husband I had never even met. Now, I’ve returned to New York with my triplets to sign the final divorce papers and disappear forever. But Archibald Sanders—the man I was told was a crippled recluse—intercepted us with the cold precision of a predator. He didn't see the woman his family destroyed; he saw a gold-digger who had shamed his name. His security team hunted us to a grimy motel, using tactical force to snatch my children away and drag me to his glass-walled empire. In his office, he loomed over me, demanding a DNA test and threatening to throw me in prison while my babies were lost to the foster system. He was convinced I’d cheated, yet he stared at my sons with a haunting confusion, unable to ignore the stormy blue eyes that were a perfect mirror of his own. I stood there, paralyzed by his scent—the sharp tang of rain and expensive leather that triggered the icy dread of my worst nightmares. How could he accuse me of betrayal when he felt exactly like the monster who had shattered my life in that dark hotel room? "I'll sign anything," I sobbed, "just give me my kids." But the game changed when my five-year-old son hacked the tower’s security, holding the skyscraper hostage to save me. In the chaos, a fragile, silent boy—Archibald’s secret son—wandered into the room and reached for me as if I were his missing soul. Archibald’s face turned to stone as he tore up the agreement and locked the doors. "Until I find out why my son is looking at you like that," he growled, "you aren't going anywhere."

Modern Mystery Revenge

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On the day the Bennett and Harper families united through marriage, the heavens seemed to unleash their fury, coloring the sky with the deep crimson of roaring flames.

Daniela Harper, clad in her wedding finery, watched in despair as her groom, Alexander Bennett, heroically swept Joyce Holt into his arms and navigated through the scorching heat, not once glancing back at her.

Trapped beneath a massive, fallen screen, Daniela was rendered immobile by its weight, her eyes brimming with tears of frustration and fear.

The air was thick with acrid smoke, and as Daniela struggled for breath, the encroaching shadows of unconsciousness began to cloud her vision, the grim thought of perishing in the blaze gnawing at her mind.

Yet, just as hope seemed to flicker out, a figure emerged through the smoke.

Strong arms lifted her effortlessly, and the steady, reassuring thud of her rescuer's heartbeat against her ear brought an odd solace amidst the chaos.

Suddenly, a piercing hiss cut through the muffled sounds of destruction.

The unmistakable, horrific odor of burning flesh assaulted her senses.

Heart pounding with a mix of fear and confusion, Daniela mustered the strength to pry her eyes open, only to be met with a suffocating veil of smoke that obscured her vision and deepened her terror.

As she fumbled blindly through the darkness, her fingers brushed against something sticky and unsettling. Instinctively, the man bearing her weight recoiled, yet he relaxed soon, permitting her hands to explore without restraint.

The wind screamed in her ears, relentless and chilling.

Gradually, the fierce warmth that had scorched her face began to dissipate.

Struggling against the heaviness of her eyelids, she strained to identify her rescuer.

Through the swirling smoke that clouded her vision, she glimpsed a distinctive mole near the man's eye—a mole that stirred a vague sense of recognition within her.

As the edges of her consciousness began to blur once more, Daniela heard a gentle voice cut through the howling wind. "Sir, the ambulance has arrived. The Harper family is already aboard. We must get moving right away. Your arm requires urgent care, and moreover, today marks Miss Harper's wedding. If people see her with another man, it'll become the talk of the town."

......

Daniela stirred from her uneasy slumber in the stark, frigid confines of a plain hospital ward.

The moon loomed large outside, bathing everything in its ghostly, somber light. The room lay shrouded in silence, devoid of the presence of her newlywed husband.

Her injuries were grievous: a cracked rib and a deep, ragged cut marred her left cheek. The doctor had cautioned that without meticulous care, the gash could etch a lasting scar on her face.

As dawn broke, the doctor returned to assess her condition.

Glancing around the empty room, he queried, "Where's your family?"

Daniela shook her head with a bitter smile. She had tried to reach Alexander many times, but he hadn't answered.

Exhaling a sigh, the doctor advised, "Try to keep still; moving too much could worsen your injuries. If there's no one to assist you, I'll arrange a caregiver for you."

At that moment, a young nurse chimed in, "Aren't you the bride from that fire incident that hit the headlines? Isn't your husband here with you?"

The conversation caught the attention of the head nurse, who coughed slightly, gesturing to silence her colleague. Leaning closer, she murmured, "He's actually upstairs, attending to someone else."

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