Mate of The Lycan Twins

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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Warning! Warning!! Warning!!!

This book is rated 18+ and there is a lot of sexual content, and a lot of violence and hate that might trigger and make some readers uncomfortable reading this.

Read at your own risk, and please, no insults! Be nice.

The Lycan Twins' Abused Mate."

***

Please, don't eradicate me, please! Ava pleaded "Father please, don't kill me. I vow to be obedient. Please forgive me and stop hitting me. "It hurts," she pleaded as her father clenched her hair tightly. She whimpered as he whacked her with a rod. The rod sliced through her skin, and blood trickled from the cut. She pleaded, yet her father refused to let go of her.

"Hey, wake up, wake up Ava" Oliver yelled, feeling worried about her.

•••

Chapter one: Ava's point of view.

I jolted out of my sleep, shivering and in a cold sweat. The sweat dripped from my forehead down my cheeks.

"It's okay, Ava, you will be fine," she mumbles as she caresses me on my back, making me feel more relaxed.

Oliver is my best friend. She is the only one who was there for me when I was at my lowest. Wondering who I am.

I am Ava Garcia, the only daughter of my father, William Garcia. My father loved me greatly, and I was loved by my mother as well. I am my mother's daughter.

We were not rich, nor are we poor, but we're satisfied with the little we had.

My mother, Patricia Glory Garcia, was a very gorgeous and elegant woman, despite the little money her father has. She loved him regardless of his average looks. She loved and protected her family. I have always enjoyed the warmth and love my parents showed me for being their only kid.

An incident transpired when I was just 10 years old that entirely altered my life. The beast I never knew existed eventually surfaced in my father's heart, leading him to torment and torture me. Since I was 10, he accused me of his beloved wife's demise.

"Get your ass here now, bastard," my father yelled.

My body was shivering, and I was terrified despite being tortured day and night. My body refused to adapt to the pains my father inflicted on me, so I ran as fast as my legs could carry me to answer my father's call.

"Father,'' I responded as I walked towards him, still trembling.

"How many times have I told you that you should never call me father again?" He yelled, "Tell me why you deserve to be my daughter after killing off my wife." He screams, clutching me hard on my face before yanking me away to the floor and my head hitting the wooden chair.

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