Secrets and Shots A Night to Remember

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 Kickass Heroine Hidden identities Revenge

Download the Book on the App

SALLY

I just ended an hour and forty-five seconds call with Dad and Morgan. I can't help but smile broadly as I recall her chatty voice.

Morgan is the result of the one-night wild party I attended thirteen years ago. I threw my phone into my bag as I got into my old convertible, a second-hand model.

I cranked the engine, and it gave one loud, smoky sound before finally gliding down the dusty path. My life in the past thirteen years has been nothing short of goodness. After Morgan's birth, I moved to the bustling city to get started in life.

My little earnings from my job as a clerical staff in one of the prestigious companies in New York have been able to make life comfortable for my father, Morgan, Leslie, and me as well.

A soft beep sound drew my gaze to the dashboard. I was running low on gas and if I don't get a refill, I'll be stuck.

"Shoot!!!" I exclaimed through my teeth when the car started acting up. Luckily, I caught sight of a gas station a few meters away. Sucking in a breath and praying inwardly that the car doesn't stop running, I pedal towards the station. The car breaks down just at the entrance of the station.

I released a soft exhale and lowered my head on the steering wheel. I took some money from my purse, picked a can from the back seat, and jogged down to get some gas.

All done.

My gas tank is filled and I'm ready to continue my journey. It's the weekend, and I always spend the weekend with Dad and Morgan. Leslie comes home only on Sundays.

I decided to pull over at a mall and get some chocolate bars for Morgan and also a bottle of liquor for Dad.

"Good evening," I flashed a smile at the pretty, dark woman sitting behind the counter. She flashes a sweet smile in return.

Her eyes skate through the items I've got, and then she names the bills.

"That would cost €30," She smiles and I nod while digging through my bag for money.

I paid up and I made my way out. My phone chimed in my back pockets, almost startling me. I reached out for it.

My brows furrowed in curiosity, seeing 'Papa', a name which I have used to save Dad's contact.

Why was he calling again?

I just ended a call with him an hour ago, what could be so urgent. I wondered as the ringtone died down and the call ended.

The phone rang again as soon as the first call ended. This time around, I flew out of my skin cos it startled me.

The phone almost slipped off my fingers. My heartbeat accelerated tremendously as I struggled to catch my breath. I stared at the caller ID, It was Dad again.

"Get your shit out of the road!!!" A mad driver hollered aggressively at me. I didn't realize that I had gone into the road without looking. I was all lost in thoughts as I needed to cross over to the other side to get to my car.

I quickly muttered an apology which the driver didn't hear.

"What's up, Dad?" I answer the phone in a panicked tone. First, I hear unsteady breaths from the other end as though he was struggling to get something off his chest.

"Dad, What is going on?" The silence from the other end confirmed my fears. Something is up.

"Morgan.... I can't find Morgan," He finally responded. His voice was thicker and heavier. Things spun quickly around me as the news hit.

I felt a nauseous wave course through my whole body as my hands trembled.

"H... How is that possible? Where is Morgan, Dad?" I almost half-yelled.

My Dad starts sobbing, "I can't find Morgan. She left the house to go catch butterflies. It's past nine PM and she isn't back."

My ears twitched. Morgan doesn't stay out late. She always returns before 7pm whenever she goes for a butterfly hunt. Morgan's passionate love for butterflies is so extreme. I tried hard to keep my breath steady as I gave a short reply, "I'll be right there, Dad."

Read Now