Safe In The Billionaires Arms（Completed）

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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Adeline Emerson walked into the packed lecture hall, her bright green eyes scanning the room for an empty seat. She spotted one near the back and hastened towards it, her long, curly red hair bouncing with each step.

She settled in, Professor Sebastian Wellesley stepped onto the stage, his commanding presence drawing everyone's attention. His chiseled features and piercing hazel eyes seemed chiseled from granite, exuding confidence and authority.

"Welcome, students, to History 301," he began, his deep voice resonating through the hall. "Today, we'll explore the American Revolution's impact on modern society."

Adeline pulled out her notebook and pen, her gaze drifting to Professor Wellesley's hands as he wrote on the blackboard. Strong, capable hands that seemed to hold the weight of history itself.

She felt a flutter in her chest, which she quickly dismissed as academic admiration. After all, Professor Wellesley was her instructor, and she was here to learn.

As the lecture progressed, Adeline found herself captivated by Sebastian's passion for history and his ability to weave complex narratives into compelling stories. She couldn't help but steal glances at him, noticing the way his black hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck.

When the lecture concluded, Adeline joined the throng of students streaming out of the hall. As she reached the door, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.

"Miss Emerson, may I have a word with you?" Professor Wellesley's voice sent shivers down her spine.

Adeline turned, her heart racing, and met his piercing gaze. "Of course, Professor."

Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment, and Adeline sensed an unspoken connection, like the spark of a match waiting to ignite.

Adeline followed Professor Wellesley to his office, her heart racing with anticipation. What could he possibly want to discuss with her?

As they entered the cozy space filled with shelves of dusty history books, Sebastian gestured for her to take a seat in front of his desk. Adeline sat down, her eyes wandering to the framed photographs of historical landmarks and figures.

Sebastian settled into his leather chair, steeling his fingers together. "Miss Emerson, I've reviewed your coursework and exam results. Your grasp of historical context and analytical thinking is impressive."

Adeline's cheeks warmed at the praise. "Thank you, Professor."

"I'm leading a research project on the American Heritage," Sebastian explained, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "I'll be conducting field research in historic sites along the East Coast. I'd like you to join me as my research assistant."

Adeline's breath caught. Spend time with Professor Wellesley, traveling to historic sites? It was a dream come true.

"Why me, Professor?" she asked, trying to sound calm despite her racing thoughts.

"You're my top student, Adeline. Your insights will be invaluable. Plus, this experience will provide you with hands-on research experience, perfect for graduate school or a career in history."

Adeline's mind whirled. She couldn't resist the opportunity to work closely with Sebastian, explore historic sites, and enhance her academic resume.

"When do we leave?" she asked, trying to contain her excitement.

Sebastian smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "We'll depart next Friday. I'll provide all the details, but I warn you, it'll be an intense schedule."

Adeline nodded eagerly. "I'm ready, Professor."

Sebastian leaned forward, his voice taking on a more personal tone. "Call me Sebastian, Adeline. We'll be working closely together. Formalities will only hinder our progress."

Adeline's heart skipped a beat. First-name basis? This was getting better by the minute.

"I'll make sure to pack accordingly," she said, trying to sound professional despite her fluttering pulse.

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