Shabanas Submission

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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Two years ago

When I was a small kid, I always wanted a perfect family where we would always be happy. We would go to parks, my parents would teach me how to ride a bicycle, we would have weekend plans, go to picnics and most importantly enjoy time with each other but all my dreams and hopes shattered into pieces when I first saw my father beating my mother. For a five-year-old, you can easily understand how it was for me. It hit me hard like I was daydreaming and fell off the bed on the cold hard floor.

I don't know what happened that day but from then on my heart started losing its pieces and I couldn't keep it together. Do not get me wrong, I tried and I tried my best to make our family really happy but it was not that simple...

The fights between my parents increased as me and my elder brother Jason, got older and the next thing I knew, I was pushing them away from me. It did not help when I came to know that my father never wanted me, he wanted another son in the Dawson family. So I started pushing him away from me. My mother wanted a girl alright but I guess she did not want me but still she was the one with whom I communicated most.

Lastly my brother...he, you would expect that out of all the shit stuff that happened, he would at least support me but turns out he was more interested in the assets and the numbers. He never liked me and I don't know why but he always tried to degrade me like I am a worthless "luggage".

The friends I had were not reliable and always temporary. No one seemed to stick around with me. Maybe because I am anti-social or I never opened up to them. I have always been like the sufferer in silence type. All those years of trauma have done this to me. My father beats me, my brother beats me and my father makes my brother beat me. So now you know why I am the way I am.

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