Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance

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

Download the Book on the App

It was 11 o'clock in the Night Club.

Just as the club's name suggested, the atmosphere was hot and heavy. The DJ quickly pumped up some sick beats as a slender and attractive woman appeared on the stage.

She swayed her hips, posing in front of the crowd. They responded with a loud cheer, raising their drinks high in the air. Wearing a veil, the woman bowed to the audience and turned to a dancing pole, rotating her body to the beat.

Her body was as lithe as a snake when she bent around the pole, displaying her clear and luscious skin. Although her face was covered, the audience could see the seductive star beneath the veil. She was enchanting, like a nymph calling for the gods.

From the way she moved, it felt as if she owned the entire stage. All eyes followed the woman as she swayed to the beat. It seemed that the club had just grown hotter and hotter by the minute.

Arvin Xue sat in one of the special guest boxes of the bar. He took a cigarette from the table and placed it in his mouth. Just then, a man approached to light it up for him. "She's quite a skillful dancer, Mr. Xue," the man remarked.

Yet Arvin Xue shrugged, blowing a small cloud of smoke. He tapped the edge of the cigarette. "She's still too young to push it to the next level," he said roughly.

The pole dancing was over. Although the performance was short, the dancer was drenched with her sweat. Her body glistened under the colored lights as she took the microphone from the DJ.

She took off the veil, and everybody held their breath. "Thank you all." Her soft voice echoed throughout the bar. "See you tomorrow night!"

For a minute, the room had gone silent.

Under the veil was a gorgeous woman. Her face was definitely proportionate, with each aspect of her face ready to send any man to his knees. The curves that hugged her body added to the entire glamour. She really was a goddess in disguise.

However, the man next to Arvin Xue stiffened. He slowly craned his neck towards the man. "Mr. Xue... That lady..."

Arvin Xue shot him a cruel glare that rendered him silent.

As he saw who the dancer was, he immediately left the cigarette on the ashtray and stomped out of the VIP box. The man yelled his name behind him, but it was to no avail.

Given his height and his muscled stature, people were afraid to block his path.

Arvin Xue rushed to the first floor without another thought. Soon enough, he pushed his way through the crowd before he finally reached the main stage.

Belinda Qin was still flirting with the audience, shooting them winks and smiles every now and then. However, she froze when she saw Arvin Xue standing right in front of her.

"What are you doing? Hey!"

Before she could respond, Arvin seized her wrist and dragged her out of the stage. Belinda Qin tried resisting, but it was to no avail.

"Oh, God! Let go!"

She was dragged several steps from the platform, struggling. Her arm was already aching as the people stared, wide-eyed, at the spectacle unfolding before them.

Read Now