Dear Ex husband You Blew Your Chance

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.

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...

"Welcome home, honey," Lily warmly greeted her husband, Roberto, as he walked in through the open double doors that led to the living room.

Dressed in a simple white gown that barely reached her ankles, with her hair held up in a side-braided ponytail, she had her hands clasped in front of her. Her body slightly swayed from side to side, a bright smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

She had just finished preparing dinner for two not long ago. Although he had never eaten her food, she always hoped he would try it one day.

Usually, he would at least acknowledge her habitual greeting with a nonchalant hum. But tonight, he wore a grave expression and his steps were noticeably hurried.

Still, she decided to try her luck for the nth time, "I made dinner. Would you..."

"I don't care about your horrible food!" he snapped, causing her to flinch.

"H-have you even tasted it?" she asked, trying to mask the hurt.

"Food made by a person I don't like is naturally horrible. Don't ever bother me again," with that, he charged up the stairs, leaving her rooted in her spot, speechless.

'Why is he acting like this?' she thought to herself in puzzlement.

She ignored the curious looks of the housemaids who had been attracted by her husband's earlier outburst, making a beeline for the dining section. She would eat alone, yet again.

It had been barely two years since they got married according to their families' arrangements.

For her part, Lily had long had feelings for Roberto since high school; he was her senior back then. She had thought how lucky it would be if she could end up as his spouse.

Hence, when her father, whose company was facing some sort of crisis at the time, asked her to marry him in exchange for the survival of their business, she readily agreed, thinking she would be able to conquer his heart in no time.

Unfortunately, up to this point, he had not shown any affection towards her; the only time she had witnessed him smile was on television broadcasts. She felt like he viewed her as a jinx who could drain away half of his lifespan if he smiled at her.

The food had tasted bland in her mouth. She couldn't bring herself to eat much, so she had one of the housemaids, return the rest to the kitchen.

Then she dispiritedly scaled up the stairs with draggy footsteps, her gaze at her feet, her hand placed on the banister. A swirl of pessimistic thoughts threatened to overwhelm her but she ultimately succeeded in dispelling them.

Now standing in the hallway, she looked longingly to her left, descrying a golden metal door in the distance. That was her husband's room- a place she had never stepped foot in ever since she moved into this mansion.

Dejectedly, she whirled on her heel, intending to make her way to her bedroom, only to hear the door of her husband's bedroom emitting a creaking noise.

"He must not want to see me right now," she mumbled to herself. With that thought in mind, she made to quicken her walking pace.

"Lily," she heard him call out in a husky voice, leading her to stop dead in her tracks.

What did he want? Or had she done anything to displease him?

Lips pursed, she turned to face him. He had an unreadable expression on his face as he stood in front of his room, hands in his pants pockets.

"Come inside,"

His unexpected words caused her jaw to drop in disbelief. Had her ears heard wrong, or were they playing tricks on her?

"What...?" she asked him, her tone unsure.

"I said, come into my room,"

"Why?" she asked him skeptically.

"I've got something important to tell you. I was about heading downstairs to fetch you, but since you're already here, that saves me time and energy. Don't make me repeat myself,"

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