The Heart of Vengeance

The Billionaire's Secret Triplets: Mom's Revenge

HONEY MULLINS

Six years ago, I was a naive girl sold by my father to the powerful Sanders estate, only to be tossed onto the streets after a brutal assault they labeled "marital infidelity." I fled the country pregnant and broken, hiding from the shadow of a husband I had never even met. Now, I've returned to New York with my triplets to sign the final divorce papers and disappear forever. But Archibald Sanders-the man I was told was a crippled recluse-intercepted us with the cold precision of a predator. He didn't see the woman his family destroyed; he saw a gold-digger who had shamed his name. His security team hunted us to a grimy motel, using tactical force to snatch my children away and drag me to his glass-walled empire. In his office, he loomed over me, demanding a DNA test and threatening to throw me in prison while my babies were lost to the foster system. He was convinced I'd cheated, yet he stared at my sons with a haunting confusion, unable to ignore the stormy blue eyes that were a perfect mirror of his own. I stood there, paralyzed by his scent-the sharp tang of rain and expensive leather that triggered the icy dread of my worst nightmares. How could he accuse me of betrayal when he felt exactly like the monster who had shattered my life in that dark hotel room? "I'll sign anything," I sobbed, "just give me my kids." But the game changed when my five-year-old son hacked the tower's security, holding the skyscraper hostage to save me. In the chaos, a fragile, silent boy-Archibald's secret son-wandered into the room and reached for me as if I were his missing soul. Archibald's face turned to stone as he tore up the agreement and locked the doors. "Until I find out why my son is looking at you like that," he growled, "you aren't going anywhere."

Modern Mystery Revenge

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[April 2022]

I walked into the half-dark neon light room. There was a long table with three seats on each side. The room was so dark that I couldn't even see myself, let alone the other occupants. I took the only seat available and sat down.

I knew why I was here, but they felt I was simply too immature and weak for this mission. I'm the leader of a small mercenary group. Although our number is something is to laugh at, but everyone of us is an elite amongst elites. We have taken way more dangerous mission than any mercenary group in the country.

Flanked on my sides were high ranking men and women dressed in dark suits. I had been called to handle a few problem for them.

“The Somalia militia are planning to send in reinforcements, we need you to infiltrate their ranks and incapacitate them.” a voice said.

I couldn't see their faces but it didn't matter, all that mattered to me was the mission which I knew was going to change a lot of things about me.

“The Americans will provide you with all the information you need.”

A female voice said.

I frowned, I didn't the idea of external help, I prefer to handle the missions alone. The reason the Wardog mercenary group has few members is due to the fact that we have secrets we don't want anyone else knowing, thus bringing the Americans with me on this mission is comparable to inviting unsolvable problems.

“Why are the Americans involve in this debacle of ours? What can the American President do except send untrained ignorant men to their doom? My team and I are enough to handle this trifle matter.” I said with annoyance.

Wherever there is trouble or war, the Americans will meddle into the affair with the notion of maintaining peace in that country, but in truth they have their hidden agenda. And now the americans want to get involved again? Besides, what's so special in Nigeria that every country wants a piece of?

“Who will the Secretary of Defense send to aid me?” I asked after a moment of silent.

“Major Triston Allen and Sergeant Anderson Marshal.” a male voice said.

Damn! It just had to be them, why couldn't they send normal soldiers! These two are part of an elite force known as the Apostle clan, it's more of a militia that Lucius set up for his daughter Simran, and few years ago, precisely '2019' I was told by Lucius that Simran is my soulmate and we were to be married once we come of age. Our love has bloomed and I am willing to die for her, I will do anything to please her and make her happy, I love her more than life itself. But it doesn't mean I like those arrogant pricks who serve her. I didn't like the idea of traveling with those Apostle soldiers, especially Major Triston Allen and Sergeant Anderson Marshal.

“I don't think that's necessary, I can do this by myself, I don't need a babysitter. They will only slow me down. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate their gesture of goodwill, but I don't need escorts.” I tried to reason with them.

“This isn't up for discussion.” another voice, a male voice said.

“I don't trust anyone apart from my teammates!” I said raising my voice a bit.

“If you can't trust others, then how can we trust you.” a voice chipped in, and I recognized that voice but just can't place its owner.

“You seem to be forgetting the importance of this mission. If the Somalia troops manage to get even a piece the merchandise, then Nigeria will lose its current trump card in the black market. The Americans are aiding us because of the agreement we have with them. Understood?” a voice chipped in.

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