OMEGA TO 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 Kickass Heroine Hidden identities Revenge

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Chapter 1

Ivy and Marco were entwined, lost in the depths of their passion. Their bodies moved with a synchronized rhythm, their connection intense and electrifying. As they caught their breath, while laying breathlessly on the bed, Ivy gazed into Marco's eyes with anticipation.

"Is there something troubling you, my love?" Marco questioned, running his fingers through her hair. Ivy shut her eyes, allowing the pleasure to flow through her and she sighed before opening them.

She chewed on her bottom lip, unsure of how to bring up what was bothering her.

"Hey," Marco called softly, placing his palm on her right cheek and rubbing it lightly. "You can talk to me. What is it?"

"When will you tell the pack that I am your mate?" she asked, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

“I—” Marco caressed her cheek, the touch emanating warmth and affection, breaking her resolve.

He sighed, then turned to face her. "Soon, my love," he assured her, his voice resonating with sincerity. "I want to ensure the right time and circumstance to reveal our bond. I will protect you, always."

Ivy smiled, her heart fluttering with the promise of a future together. She trusted him, placing her faith in their connection. However, fate had different plans, for loyalty often veils itself in deceit, and trust can be shattered in an instant.

As they basked in the afterglow of their love, Marco's gaze lingered upon Ivy's body. An intimate moment tinged with adoration and curiosity unfurled, as his eyes traced the contours of her form. A playful smile danced on his lips, provoking a blush upon her cheeks.

"Come on Marco, we just…”

"I can't seem to get enough of you and you know that!"

"Just One more."

Ivy couldn't help but laugh at his childish antics. Marco's eyes twinkled mischievously, filled with a playful glimmer as he leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a sweet, tender kiss. Time seemed to stand still as their connection deepened with each passing second, enclosing them in a world where only their love existed.

Marco drew closer and kissed her. They moved closer to each other, savoring the softness and tenderness of their kiss. Their connection deepened with each passing second, consuming them completely. As their bodies drew nearer, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, while their tongues entwined in a dance of affection.

Their passionate exchange seemed to release a flood of emotions they had been harboring for so long. Marco tenderly caressed Ivy's nipple with his lips, teasing it gently and igniting a pleasurable response from her. Ivy couldn't hold back her moans of delight, her eyes shut tight as she surrendered to the sensation. With her hands, she eagerly explored his exposed physique, tracing the contours of his sun-kissed, well-toned back. His body exuded an athletic grace, accentuated by a light dusting of hair. Guiding her hands further, he allowed her to gently stimulate him as he grew in her grasp.

With a shared desire, she guided him between her legs, parting them slowly, and her resulting moan revealed her anticipation. As he slid inside her, their connection intensified, filling them both with intense pleasure.

Marco adjusted his movements, seeking the perfect angle to bring Ivy even more satisfaction. She welcomed him eagerly, opening her legs wider and bending her knees to grant him deeper access.

Time seemed to stand still as they merged their bodies and souls. Every stroke, every inch, he relished the sensation of her velvety walls enveloping him, a testament to their passionate union.

In this moment of intimate connection, Marco felt a profound love for Ivy—an unbreakable bond with the woman who had captured his heart.

As he moved within her, he gazed into her eyes, seeing the depth of their love reflected at him.

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