Love in the Hands of the Mafia

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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Rachel Sawyer was perched with her legs crossed on the Anderson mansion's library soft carpet. With her was 'The Secret Garden.' She took advantage of the collection of books in the mansion while her mother tutored the family's son.

A shadow fell over her page and she looked up, annoyed.

"Do you mind telling me what you're reading?" asked the boy with a head of curly brown hair of which green eyes peeked out curiously, standing right above her.

"Don't you need to be in your study room?" Rachel asked, clutching the book to her chest.

Kohen shook his head, "Nicole allowed me to spend some time off, so she can take a break." He always referred to Rachel's mother by her first name. "What are you reading?" He repeated the question.

"Nothing of your interest" Rachel answered unbothered.

"How can you be so sure of what might attract my attention?" He sat down next to her without waiting for an invitation. "You don't even know me."

"I know that you are overindulged," Rachel snapped back as she moved away. "And that you made Mrs. Peterson quit last month by putting frogs in her purse."

A grin spread on his face showing the dimple on his left cheek. "They were toads." In an effort to hold back, Rachel could feel the corners of her mouth pulling back into a smirk. "That makes it worse." "I'm bored," Kohen said, lounging on his back. Rachel chose to ignore him and his idle chatter, focusing back on her book.

After a stretch of silence, Kohen sighed "You're really no fun".

Rachel squinted. "I am plenty fun. I simply think putting amphibians in people's possessions does not merit as entertainment."

"Prove it," he said, leaning closer. "Prove that you are fun."

That challenge made Rachel feel something she couldn't explain. A certain kind of determination. But it was a challenge that needed to be undertaken. She kept her book open and pushed it aside.

"All right. Let's go."

Twenty minutes later, the two of them found themselves dangling from the limbs of the huge oak tree that graced the Andersons' backyard, their laughter on the summer breeze.

"I told you that I could climb higher!" Rachel shouted down at Kohen who was struggling several feet below her.

"That is because you weigh nothing," he puffed, trying to hoist himself up another branch. "I bet in a strong wind you would float away!"

Rachel gave a roll of her eyes. "Excuses"

As Kohen reached for the next branch, he made a slip with his foot. His very breathable moment of hanging from the limbs of the tree with his legs in the air seemed like an endless one.

"Kohen!" Rachel shouted after him. Her voice was taut with worry.

He grunted and swung his legs to reclaim a steady position on the branch and grinned at his victory. But his delighted smile vanished through the grimace Rachel exhibited.

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