Fatal Love

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 Kickass Heroine Hidden identities Revenge

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ZIRA

I woke up with my head feeling like it would explode. My brain was having its own personal rave inside my head. The room was dark, but a sliver of light passed through the windows and across my face. My eyes could barely open as I tried to focus on my surroundings.

Surroundings that looked unfamiliar at that moment. This room felt huge, way bigger than mine. The walls were not the usual deep red. Instead, it was more of a deep almond color, but the smell of it was familiar. I’m still in the pack house, in someone’s bed. A bed that was significantly bigger than my queen size.

Wait, this isn’t my room, I thought to myself.

"And this guy isn’t our mate," my werewolf, Nina, growled.

"What are you talking about-" I stopped when I noticed someone’s weight on top of me. Oh shit! How the hell did I miss that?

I couldn’t for the life of me remember what happened last night. The darkness obscured some of his features, and my eyes were still unfocused. He snored softly, and I could feel his warm breath against my neck. I could barely move my head to look at him, so I tried my best to get a side view. His black curly hair covered his face, leaving only his lips displayed. They looked bruised. I’d like to know if I did that.

"You did more than that," Nina said, with a bit of annoyance.

I was sure this person looked familiar, but my mind was too occupied with my current headache. I tried not to panic as I wanted to move him. That’s when I felt something twitch inside me, and instantly pain traveled through my body. My mouth was so dry that my whimpers were inaudible.

Shit, I think he’s still inside me, and why the hell is he still hard? Fuck! Now I panicked as I untangled one of my legs from his. Next, I carefully pulled my arms from between our bodies and placed them on his shoulders.

"Mmmm," he groaned, grinding his hips against me, making my body tighten its grip. A mixture of pain and pleasure enveloped me, and for a moment, I wanted to stay.

"Zira, focus and get this guy off of us. We have to leave now," Nina yelled, snapping me out of it.

"Right. You’re right. A little help would be nice," I yelled back.

My vision was still a bit blurry, and the stupid sliver of light made me want to keep my eyes closed. Nina was angry; hell, I was angry. How could I have let this happen? How exactly did this happen? I couldn’t dwell on that now.

The Batman clock read seven thirty-eight am, meaning the pack house would be fully awake in less than thirty minutes. So, with the help of my werewolf, we lifted the man off us and right onto the floor with a loud thud. I froze for a moment, thinking it would wake him.

"Nina, what the hell!" I yelled at her, knowing she did that on purpose.

"Just be lucky that’s all I did," Nina growled before disappearing to the back of my mind.

With bile slowly building in my throat, I didn’t have time to argue with her. Hell, I could barely concentrate enough to get up. Standing made everything worse. I took a deep breath and focused on my balance. The man groaned behind me when I stumbled in the dark to pick up my clothes.

I turned to face him, and my eyes widened. His hair no longer covered his face, and I was looking at a completely naked Alpha. The Black Moon Pack Alpha.

Isaiah! Did I…I mean…we…

"Fuck, Zira. Stop being such a virgin," Nina snarled. "Well, I guess you’re not anymore."

"You are the worst," I said to her.

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