Love Unexpected

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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Emma’s POV

“What do you mean I’m getting married, dad?” I question my dad, tears running down my face fast and hard. I haven’t ugly cried like this in years but right now, I didn’t care how ugly I looked. All I cared to understand was what my dad meant by I was to get married in two months.

“I realize how sudden and unexpected this news comes, sweetie, but it’s what needs to be done,” he replies me, taking gentle strides towards me.

I step back. Usually I like the comfort of being in my father’s arms, but not today. Maybe not ever again. Not with what he’s saying to me right now. “This is so unfair!” I shriek really loudly as I begin to pace round the living room where my mum, dad and I stood as they broke the news to me.

At this point I was livid. I don’t think I’d ever been this angry before in my life, and especially towards my parents, but today I was. I was upset, confused, and especially furious at them.

“How could you let this happen, mum?” I stopped pacing and faced my mum with my hands placed on my waist and my eyebrows raised, tears still streaming down my face freely.

“Honey, there was no other option. Would you have rather your dad went prison?” She responded to my question with a face full of empathy. I knew the correct answer to that question, but in that moment I didn’t care.

“Yes!” I all but said quietly. “Why couldn’t he have opted to go to prison? Why did he have to sell me off to Liam Henderson?” I yelled.

“I did not sell you off, Emma. Never you repeat that statement ever again,” my dad replied sharply without giving my mum a chance to respond to me. At this point he and I were in a staring contest with each other, none willing to break contact and look weak in front of the other.

Right from when I was a kid, my dad’s mother had always told me I acted just like my dad did when he was younger. She’d tell me how we had similar reactions to particular situations and how we had the same temper. She’d say, “I wonder how arguments go down with you both at home”. Truly she was right. My dad and I did have the same temper and today proved it.

I wasn’t going to back down from the stare though, and he knew that. He eventually gave up and relaxed his shoulders. “Emma, I truly am sorry for this. I’m sorry that this is the reality of your life right now, but this wedding, this marriage, it’s happening. Whether you like it or not. The deal has already been made”.

“I hate you, dad. I really do”.

Of course I don’t and could never hate my dad but that was what I was feeling in that moment. I felt nothing but hate towards him.

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