EFFORTS

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

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"Are you even a legal adult?"

Under the influence of the drug, Madeline Powell answered with the last bit of reason she had, "Of course! I've just turned eighteen today!"

"And you decided to prostitute yourself as soon as you came of age, huh? Are you so short of money? Or you just can't wait to have sex with men?"

The man touched her chin with his long fingers and lifted it as if inspecting a newly acquired possession.

His rough fingers caressed Madeline's face gently until he suddenly pinched her chin hard and forced her to look into his eyes. Her cheeks were slightly flushed due to the drug's effect, a silent invitation for the man. Her faint fragrance lingered in his nose, making his member hard and throb between his legs.

Yet, high-level predators were known to be patient instead of rushing things. Thus, the man's fingers first moved past her slip dress to meet her already wet vagina. Madeline screamed at his sudden intrusion. Before she could retreat, his lips went down on hers, and she unconsciously clamped her thighs.

"Relax." The man let her go for a moment.

"Hurry up..." Madeline urged in a daze. The man's saliva still glistened at the corner of her mouth.

Leaning over, he smirked.

"You're just a young girl..."

He paused, looking at her for a while. Then he loosened his grip on her and stepped back coldly.

"You don't have what I want in a woman. Get out of here." Those words made the man look mean and aloof.

At the sound of that, a shiver ran down Madeline's spine. However, she had already come to this place willing to risk everything, so she didn't take no as an answer. Leaning forward, she flirted with him again.

"How do you know if you haven't even given me a chance?" Madeline took off her white shirt and then her lace bra, exposing her beautiful torso under the dim light. Grabbing the glass of red wine beside her, she poured the liquid onto her body, the coldness making her tremble. Although she was very ashamed, her gesture was sincere.

"I'm completely wet. I can't get out like this." The wine ran from her neck to her collarbones and then down to the tips of her breasts. The young girl's body looked extremely sexy and attractive at that moment. It drove the man crazy.

"Hmm... It's cold..." Madeline clung closely to him like a docile cat, slightly wringing her waist.

"You asked for it."

The man was stunned for a few seconds, but as soon as he came to his senses, he reached out for her again.

He grabbed the red slip dress still covering her thighs and pulled it up until the thin fabric was over Madeline's face.

Originally, she already couldn't see the man's features clearly because the wall lamp was the only thing that lit the room. But now all she could detect was a vague outline of his body on top of hers.

Her nudity, in turn, was completely exposed to his eyes. The tension in her body didn't hide how nervous she was as the man's large hands slowly slid down her collarbones, stopping at her rosy nipples.

The drug was taking away all of Madeline's inhibitions. Her body couldn't help but respond to the man's caresses. Trembling with desire, she longed for him to get inside her at once.

When the man saw how desperately she reacted to his touch, his eyes hardened. All his previous tenderness was gone. How could he sympathize with a woman who had taken a drug before throwing herself at him?

Spreading Madeline's legs shamelessly apart, the man didn't hesitate and sank deep into her.

"Ouch! It hurts! "

Madeline's delicate hand pressed against the man's chest in an attempt to push him away from her, but she didn't have enough strength to make him move.

The pain caused her body to become extremely stiff, which made the man even more violent with her.

Every time he pushed more aggressively into her, he reached somewhere deeper. Madeline's body couldn't help but bounce in tune with his. Her tightly furrowed eyebrows did nothing to arouse the man's mercy.

Madeline had no idea if she had just gradually adapted to his fierceness or if the drug's effect had fully kicked in, but as soon as she let out a cry of pleasure, her face flushed as red as a ripe apple. Quickly, she bit her tongue hard, trying to stifle another sound.

The expression on her face only stimulated the man more. As his movements became more frantic, he ruthlessly kissed her delicate lips.

The sound of his member thrusting in and out of her and the snap of flesh against flesh made the temperature of the entire suite go up.

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