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The Billionaire Drivers Hidden Daughter Chinese Drama epub vk download

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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Snow soaked with blood.

Aurora stumbled backward, her breath ragged, the sting of icy wind biting her skin. The air was thick with the scent of burnt fur, steel, and death. Screams echoed in the trees, followed by vicious snarls. Wolves-rogues and patrols-were tearing each other apart beneath the pale winter moon.

She hadn't meant to be here. She had only gone hunting, hoping to find a rabbit or two. But the moment she heard the fighting, something inside her told her to run toward it-not away.

And now here she was. Standing in the middle of a battlefield.

Something moved near a fallen pine. Her ears caught the groan. Not a rogue. Not a monster. Something... different.

She crept forward, heart pounding.

A body.

A man.

His uniform was torn, his chest rising and falling in shallow, painful heaves. His dark hair was matted with blood. His wolf hadn't shifted. That meant he was strong, high-ranking-maybe even royal. The silver crest of the Silverfang Pack glinted on his armor.

Aurora froze.

He was the enemy.

The son of the Alpha who destroyed her birth pack.

She should run.

But then he coughed-a wet, broken sound-and rolled onto his back, blood spilling from a gash across his ribs. His eyes fluttered.

Still alive.

Still human.

"Help..." he rasped.

Aurora's legs refused to move.

This was Kael. She recognized him from rogue whispers-heir to the Silverfang throne. Trained to kill. Ruthless. He had led patrols that burned rogue camps to the ground. Some said he didn't flinch while wolves begged for mercy.

He was everything she should hate.

But he was dying. Alone. And something deep in her chest tightened-something that felt like... recognition. A magnetic pull she couldn't explain.

Mate.

The word whispered through her bones.

Aurora shook her head hard. "No. No, no, no."

Not him.

Anyone but him.

Kael's fingers twitched, grasping at the snow. "Is... someone there?"

She should walk away. Let him die.

But she couldn't. Goddess help her, she couldn't.

Kneeling beside him, she pressed her hands to his wound. Warm blood oozed through her fingers.

"You're going to bleed out," she muttered.

"Go," he croaked. "The rogues... they'll be back."

"I'm not afraid of them."

That surprised him. His eyes-storm gray and burning-met hers. "Who are you?"

Aurora hesitated. "No one."

He half-smiled. "Pretty name."

Her face burned. "You talk too much for someone dying."

She closed her eyes, let her breath steady, and focused. Her palms tingled. The magic inside her-usually quiet, trembling-rushed forward like a tidal wave.

Golden light burst from her hands.

Kael jerked, gasping. "What-"

"Shut up."

The wound began to close. Slowly. Painfully. But it was working.

"I'm dreaming," he murmured. "Or I'm dead already."

"No," she said, her voice tight. "You're very much alive, unfortunately."

A howl echoed nearby. Close.

Aurora's eyes snapped open. Patrol wolves. They were coming back.

If they found her here-healing their prince-she was dead.

Kael's breathing had evened, but he was still too weak to move. She grabbed a sharp rock and dragged it across her palm, smearing her blood over the wound she had just closed.

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