Her Unruly Husband

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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After the SAT

The night after the SAT, my sister sent me a wish list.

"iPhone: ¥10,000, iPad: ¥5,000, Laptop: ¥8,000, Clothes: ¥3,000, Cosmetics: ¥2,000... Total: ¥50,000."

I was just a worker earning ¥3,000 a month, and our parents were manual laborers. How could we possibly come up with that much money for her all at once?

Our family scraped together everything we could and decided we could only give her ¥20,000. Instead of being grateful, she threw a fit and threatened to harm herself.

My parents and I had no choice but to borrow money from everyone we knew, working several jobs a day to repay the debt.

When my parents died in a car accident due to overwork, my sister and her boyfriend were still indulging in luxury at a five-star hotel.

Overwhelmed by the pressure, I developed depression and committed suicide.

Given a second chance at life, I personally sent her to work in an exploitative factory. She finally became obedient.

Chapter 1: The Shopping Feast

Amid the frenzy of the 618 shopping feast, I stumbled upon a tutorial online on how to enjoy discounts by reaching the minimum order requirement. I noticed that the pair of shoes my sister, Lilah, had been longing for was on sale at a very tempting price, so I didn't hesitate to place the order.

As the SAT approached, her grades had consistently been excellent, so I decided to buy these shoes as an encouragement for her. However, when I eagerly showed her the purchase record, she questioned me.

"Why are they so cheap? I saw these shoes on a shopping platform for over five hundred, and you only spent a little over three hundred? They must be fake."

Instead of expressing gratitude, her initial reaction to the order screenshot was suspicion.

"I bought these by following the 618 shopping tips I found online. This is from the official flagship store on Amazon. How could they be fake?" I explained patiently.

"If they're that cheap, they must be fake! Why did you buy me fake shoes? People will make fun of me if I wear them!" she retorted.

Our family had struggled financially in the past, and I had endured many hardships during my childhood. When our situation improved, my parents had Lilah, and we all showered her with love, inadvertently fostering her spoiled temperament.

Faced with her anger, I didn't dare say much, fearing it would affect her mood for the SAT. I silently returned the shoes and repurchased them from the shopping platform, which finally appeased her.

On the night of the SAT, our family gathered to celebrate Lilah's achievement. Unexpectedly, she pulled out a 'wish list,' as if she had meticulously planned it.

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