HIS WANTED LUNA

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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Valerie's POV

I once read somewhere that it took a special kind of bravery to stay sober in a room full of drunk people.

I was sitting before the makeshift bar in Adam's party, watching my friends take shot after shots of burning liquid from nameless bottles.

I stared at their swaying, bleary-eyed form, wondering why anyone would want to subject themselves to that for an entire night and end up wasted in some random place, and wake up with severe hangovers. Stupid nineteen-year olds. I stared at the golden-colored liquid in my own glass. Apple juice was all the refreshment I needed.

Maybe it wasn't bravery though. Maybe I was just being plain stupid and I should have enjoyed the night with my friends. Alcohol would have definitely helped me to survive the events of that night.

"Bar!" Rendall, the one who was closest to me yelled and slammed an empty glass on the table, his eyes unfocused.

"I mean...drink..."

"Don't get too drunk, Rendall. You're the one driving us home." Cheryl slurred and poured another drink down her throat, then giggled almost maniacally.

Analisse, my other best friend, was the only other sober person among us. She was sitting on the other end of Rendall and Cheryl, the bluish light of her phone illuminating her face as she stared into it.

Besides Adam, Analisse was the only other person I trusted with my life. Probably the only person whom I could talk to about what had been bothering me for years now.

"Don't fall off the bar stools," I muttered to Rendall and Cheryl, then stood from my own stool and walked towards Analisse.

"Hey," I said. "We need to talk."

"What-" she started, but I had grabbed her hand and was dragging her through the dimly lit party floor full of swaying people.

Analisse followed me in silence until we reached the foot of the staircase. Once there, she folded her arms and glared at me.

"Rude, much?" She said with a hint of sarcasm.

"What did you want to talk about?"

I closed my eyes and tried to figure out my words and she shook my shoulder worriedly.

"Val, are you okay?" She asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. The whole party is just getting to me." I muttered, then opened my eyes.

"There's this thing I've been carrying around for a long while now."

"What's that?" She prompted.

"I like Adam. Heck, I think I love him. I've loved him since we were thirteen and I still do. I want to tell him tonight, but I don't know how to. Can you help me?" I blurted out in one long breath.

A shadow passed across Analisse's face, or perhaps it was the dim party lights around us. "You love him?"

"Yes, Ana." I nodded.

"What should I do?"

She thought for a moment, then said.

"Val, this is his coronation party. He just got crowned as the alpha. I think this would be the wrong time to break that kind of news to him. Besides, you're his best friend. Friends don't feel that way for each other."

I pondered on her words: Analisse was one of the most level headed, pragmatic people I'd ever met. If anyone could tell me the truth, it was her.

Perhaps she was right.

A footfall made the both of us turn to the staircase, and my heart did a tumble as I watched Adam walk downstairs. Oh, Goddess!

"Valerie," he whispered as his eyes fell on me, and I could read the anguish in his eyes, better than anyone else could. For some reason, he wasn't looking at Analisse.

"Adam!" I called. My voice sounded high and pathetic.

"What were you doing upstairs? It's your coronation party, after all."

"I just...needed to have some rest." He murmured, running a hand across his forehead. "I wasn't feeling too well."

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"No, Val." He whispered again. "Can you come stay with me upstairs? I really need someone around."

My heart jumped again as I heard those words. I turned to Analisse, but she had mysteriously disappeared into the partying crowd.

I turned back to Adam, my mouth tasting like ash.

"Alright. I'll come." ~~~

Adam reached for my hand almost immediately and pulled me upstairs without another word.

We walked through the vast corridors of the pack house in silence until he reached the door of his room.

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