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

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PROLOGUE

"I'm sorry Pete, maybe we have to cancel out dinner plans tonight, there is an important meeting and I can't miss it, maybe next time okay. lock the door before you go to bed. love you"

I sigh 'happens every time' I slip my phone back in my pocket

"why the long face?" asked my best friend Hunter

I give him a small smile and he frowns and I tell about my mom's text

"again?" he asks looking pitiful

"yeah" I say in a small voice

he puts his arm around me " you can always stay at my place. my mom loves you more than me anyways " he rolled his eyes and I chuckled

"thanks but I need to be with polo tonight" I make an excuse

he grins "you and your damn dog" he chuckles

polo is a golden retriever and is about 2 years old, I had him when my doctor suggested that I shouldn't be spending time alone.

we take our regular bus to go home because I don't know how to drive a car. and Hunter just crashed his new XUV on his neighbors wall which also got him grounded.

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