Love At The End Of The World

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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Unicorns and rainbows were all that mattered to me. What else would matter to a six year old?

I smiled to myself and held the tiny hand of my little sister.

"I'm your Mommy now, " I said sweetly to the two year old that was only interested in drinking from the juice box in her hand.

Snatching the juice box from her hand I said, "call me Mommy."

She opened her little mouth to cry, but I quickly stuffed it with her pacifier and placed a kiss on her black hair.

"You are a man whore!" The woman from the building opposite us yelled with a voice, harsh and tight with emotions.

I'm guessing it's the Richardsons having an argument again. This has always been a hobby for them, fighting. The worst part was Mrs Richardson's voice was as loud as a trumpet and could be heard from miles away. I was not exaggerating, I could hear every fowl word she called him from my room whenever they fought.

Today's evening was a beautiful one. Mommy, Eliana and I just came back from our daily walking routine.

Mother stood in a black leggings and pink shirt with a phone glued to her average sized ear. She stood in front of our milk colored gate and chatted with who she was on the phone with.

My little self walked over to where mother was with a lot of curiosity bubbling in me.

"Mommy." She looked down at my six years old figure, took a mouth full of bottle water and smiled. "What's a man whore?"

She coughed and spilled the entire contents in her mouth, meaning the water entered the wrong pipe.

"Sorry." I patted her right lap with my tiny hand because I was too short to pat her back.

"Where did you hear that from?"

"From-" I didn't get to finish my sentence because the gate to the Richardsons flung open with Mrs Richards standing in front of it and guarding it like she didn't want him out.

Our gate was just opposite theirs so it gave me direct view to what was going on.

"You're not walking out on me!" She yelled, but he didn't reply.

This scared Eliana and it made her cry out loud. Mr Richardson got into his car and the engine roared to life.

Mommy picked Eliana up and pushed our gate open for me to go in first. Mrs Richardson howled abusive words at her husband and I registered every word in my head.

"Cover your ears honey, " Mommy said sweetly and I obeyed.

I sighed when I finally got into the house. I ran to the sitting room and jumped on my big sister.

"I missed you!" I hugged her tightly, earning a nudge enough to break my ribs. "Okay, if you don't like me say you don't! I'll appreciate if you let me grow up with complete set of ribs."

I pouted and folded my arms against my chest. She didn't even act like I was there, she just glued herself to the carton, brown sofa. Her big, bottle green eyes never left the screen of the smart phone she was holding. I wished that phone would fall into the toilet someday, I was so a better mom than Sam.

Sam had no time for me, all she cared about was her phone.

One time I was running then I bumped into her. Sam's phone and I fell on the floor causing her to scream. I thought she was afraid I hurt myself, but she picked her phone and inspected it for a broken screen then heaved a sigh when she saw nothing.

I glared crossly at her and wished I could yank her jet, black hair.

I got down from the sofa and walked over to where mom was preparing dinner. Pulling my chair out, I sat on the dinning with a pack of crayon and drawing book in my hand. I drew a very ugly and funny looking figure of Sam and scratched my rich chocolate hair for the spelling of a word I heard.

I finally wrote what I felt like was the correct spelling for it. Sam walked into the kitchen to help Mom set the table.

Sam is a hore

"What's this?" Sam yanked the paper from my hand. "Aww is this me?" She asked sarcastically.

"Sam is a whore." She read out loud with a look of disbelief, causing me to clutch my stomach and laugh out loud. "Oh, I'm gonna get you!"

I screamed and ran to hide behind my mother. Sam handed the paper to Mom and she told Sam maybe I just wanted to write Sam is a horse, but missed the s.

Father arrived and the usual running to hug him happened. We sat on the dinning to eat so I told father Sam wanted to break my ribs.

"And that's why Sam is a whore!" I yelled out loud.

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