Between claws and fangs the legend

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

Download the Book on the App

Kira’s heart raced as she glanced over her shoulder, the moonlight casting eerie shadows on the forest floor. She clutched her newborn daughter tightly, praying the pack wouldn’t find them. Every rustle of leaves and snap of twigs sent waves of fear coursing through her.

The baby’s white hair glowed in the darkness, a stark reminder of the secret Kira would have to protect at all costs. She tightened her grip on Astrid, whispering soothing words to calm her own nerves as much as the baby’s.

Suddenly, a distant howl pierced the night, freezing her in place. Kira held her breath, waiting for the sounds of pursuit, but only silence followed. She exhaled slowly and continued on, determined to keep moving.

Years later , a howl echoed faintly in Astrid’s dreams, pulling her from sleep. She awoke with a start, staring at her reflection in the mirror opposite her bed.

Her white hair cascaded down her shoulders, shimmering in the early morning light. She sighed, brushing it away from her eyes and reached for the wig on her nightstand.

Pulling the dark wig over her hair, she made sure it was secure before heading downstairs.

“Mom, why do I have to take these pills every day?” Astrid asked, her fingers fidgeting with the small, white bottle.

Kira’s smile faltered for a moment before she regained her composure. “It’s for your health, sweetheart,” she replied, her voice steady but her eyes betraying a flicker of guilt.

Astrid noticed the hesitation. “Are you sure there’s nothing else? You always seem so nervous about it.”

Kira forced a laugh, though it sounded hollow. “I’m just a worried mother, that’s all. Now, finish your breakfast. You don’t want to be late for work.”

Astrid nodded, but the uneasy feeling lingered. She couldn’t shake the sense that there was more to her mother’s words, more to the pills, more to her life than she had ever imagined.

As Astrid stepped outside, the crisp morning air greeted her. She adjusted the wig one last time, making sure it was perfectly in place.

She had worn it for as long as she could remember, a daily reminder of the secret she didn’t fully understand. But today felt different.

The question she had asked her mother nagged at her, and the flicker of guilt she saw in Kira’s eyes was hard to forget.

Suddenly, a commotion broke out down the street. Astrid’s curiosity piqued, and she quickened her pace to see what was happening.

Arriving at the scene, Astrid saw a group of people gathered around a young man lying on the ground, clutching his leg in pain. It looked like he had been attacked by a stray dog.

Without hesitation, Astrid rushed forward to help. She knelt beside the injured man, her instincts taking over. “Are you okay? Can you tell me where it hurts?”

The man winced in pain but managed to nod. “My leg. It feels like it’s on fire.”

Astrid’s heart raced as she assessed the wound. She could see deep claw marks, oozing with blood. It was clear that this was no ordinary dog attack.

As she tried to administer first aid, Astrid noticed something strange. The man’s eyes, once a deep shade of brown, now glowed with an unnatural glowing blue. It was a color she had only seen once before – in the mirror.

“What’s happening to me?” the man gasped, his voice tinged with panic.

Astrid’s mind raced with possibilities. Could it be…?

Just then, another howl echoed in the distance, sending shivers down Astrid’s spine. She glanced around and noticed that the crowd’s attention was momentarily drawn to the source of the sound.

Read Now