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 Kickass Heroine Hidden identities Revenge

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"Bye" I wave with a smile as I get out of the car. The sun was shining brightly as I shut the door and walk through the park.

Not a thing had changed.

It was a nice day today, it was really hot, hence why I was wearing shorts and a crop top, and I smiled as the breeze blew my thick stands of, now, red hair over my shoulder. I'll admit, the last time I was here I was a push over, I never stuck up for myself.

Now, however, I've lost weight, got contacts instead of glasses (not that there was anything wrong with glasses) and died my hair red. I was finally happy.

Those 2 years weren't amazing. I got bullied at my new school worse than here and it made me fall into a state of depression. I'm completely over that now.

I put my sunglasses on my head, looking around before I bumped into a chest.

The arms wrapped around my waist, saving me from falling.

"Thank you so much" I smile, getting out of the strangers arms. I was curious and looked to see who it was.

"Holy shit" The words left before I could stop them.

No way was my ex bully- Charlie Winters- the first boy (that's kind of cute) I met.

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