Beneath The CEOs Terms

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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Theodore

"Isa wait. Let's talk about this baby, you can't say something like that and just leave," I plead with my wife softly, trying to get her to rethink her decision. Isabel has always been much too stubborn for her own good.

"No! There's nothing to talk about Theodore and you know it," she says calmly while staring at me, daring me to fight her on this.

Usually, at this point I back off and let her have her way but not this time. This time I have to be more stubborn than she could ever be.

"You're not leaving Isabel, I won't let you. How could you even think about leaving us? Are you even thinking about me? Our family? Our children?!" I ask with quiet anger.

She laughs loudly and that makes my blood boil. She knows that Ethan and Emile are in the next room but she makes no effort to avoid disturbing their sleep. Another instance of Isabel being too selfish to be a good mother.

"Am I even thinking about us?" she asks incredulously after her deep laughter. "We both know there is no 'us' Theodore. The farce has gone on for as long as it can and I can finally call quits."

"Isa-"

She puts her hand up to cut me off while pacing up and down the large master's bedroom. I look out the door, concerned that her loud voice is causing a disturbance to our twins.

"And our families? They have gotten what they wanted after forcing us into this loveless marriage. Why keep on going with it when they have moved on?!"

Her sea blue eyes stare at me defiantly.

I want to oppose her, but even I can't deny it. The business between the Renaults and Thompsons that made both families decide to have their heirs marry each other has long since been concluded, leaving Isabel and I to live out the consequences.

I would never have agreed to the arrangement if Isabel wanted no part of it so we both agreed to resign ourselves to a loveless marriage. We have been comfortable going about our lives living under one roof for the past three years. At least, that's what I thought.

"This-this is not what we agreed to Isa," I say quietly as I think of her request for a divorce.

Even though we never fell in love, we developed a unique friendship surrounding our situation and her decision to leave feels like a betrayal.

Her eyes soften as she holds my gaze. "Theodore, I'm sorry for going against our initial agreement. You're a wonderful friend...but I want more. I want my freedom."

I stare into her eyes and I see just how serious she is. If I let her leave, she won't come back. This isn't one of her usual hasty decisions.

"You want your freedom? If I let you leave what do I get from that?" I ask quietly as I walk out of the French windows while massaging my head. I can already feel the headache coming.

Isabel's heels announce her joining me on the balcony.

"Do you remember your life before we got married?" She asks behind me. "Don't tell me you've forgotten that carefree young boy who was in love. You can go back to that time, Theodore. You can leave everything, the kids, the businesses, our families. You don't have to pretend anymore."

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