SECOND CHANCE MY 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

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The clock read 8 PM when Alyssa arrived at her front door. She didn't go in immediately but stood there for a few seconds, lost in thought.

Suddenly, she felt uneasy, as if something was about to happen. But what? Alyssa couldn't guess at all. Or maybe it was just a side effect of her body and mind being too exhausted today?

"Has Brent come home yet?" Alyssa murmured as she held the door handle.

She was a bit afraid of meeting Brent and being interrogated by him for coming home this late. It wasn't without reason that she had just returned. She had to stop by the convenience store in front of her house to buy ice to compress her swollen eyes from crying too much about her increasingly unclear marriage. In any case, Alyssa didn't want to make Brent, who was already tired from work, worry about her condition. Now Alyssa could only hope that Brent wouldn't interrogate or get mad at her.

Alyssa took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. Now, she tried to stay calm despite her irregular heartbeat.

The sound of the door opening felt rather ominous, perhaps because of the eerily quiet mment that seemed almost uninhabited.

Looking around cautiously, Alyssa stepped inside.

"Where have you been?"

"Oh my God!"

She screamed in surprise when Brent suddenly appeared behind her. It seemed he had just come from the kitchen.

"Brent? You startled me," Alyssa said nervously.

"I asked where you've been, Grace. Why are you just getting home at this hour?" Brent repeated sharply.

"I... I just...."

Damn it, Alyssa thought.

Alyssa, who never lied, suddenly had to try to deceive Brent to keep the peace in their house tonight. However, it turned out that lying wasn't easy. As a result, she now sounded like a toddler learning to speak. It was pathetic.

"I... I was meeting a friend," Alyssa said.

Her eyes darted around. It was clear she wanted to avoid Brent's gaze to prevent her lie from being uncovered. Suddenly, Brent moved to the living room. Still wearing his work clothes, he sat on the sofa while Alyssa stood to his right. For some reason, she didn't want to sit. Her instincts told her she shouldn't sit right now.

"Have you eaten? Do you want me to cook something?" Alyssa offered.

Brent didn't answer. Instead, he took out his phone from his pocket, fiddled with it for a moment, and then placed the thin device on the table with the screen lit up, showing a photo.

"Is this the 'friend' you were meeting?" Brent asked, looking sharply at her.

Alyssa's eyes automatically focused on the photo on Brent's phone. Her pupils dilated involuntarily when she saw that it was a picture of her and Hiro.

"Brent, I can explain," Alyssa said in a shaky voice.

As he stood up, Brent asked, "What is there to explain?"

"I... it’s not what you think. Hiro and I--"

"I know you and Hiro broke up a long time ago. You were close and knew each other before I came along. But... you shouldn't have done this, Grace. You should remember...."

Brent turned his face away for a moment to control his emotions.

“You should remember that you’re my wife now,” Brent emphasized.

Not giving Alyssa a chance to explain further, Brent then walked towards his room.

Alyssa, left behind, could only stand there in silence. Her body felt nailed in place, unable to move. The sensation of tightness in her chest now took over.

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