The Ember Queen

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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Emberline's POV

"I need to get some fresh air" I murmured, my voice wavering.

Consequences of drinking red wine on your wedding day. I didn't feel good one bit. I wasn't sure if I could walk down the aisle without one in my system, my shyness would probably skyrocket my anxiety which would make me get my vows wrong and I would become a laughing stock.

Well not today, today Emberline would get married without being embarrassed like the way she have been her whole life. If I say so myself.

The wedding starts in an hour, I was too dizzy to stand up straight. My only hope was not to fall down on my face when I walk down the aisle.

In an uncertain movement, I tugged at my wedding dress as I walked down the corridor of the hotel, my steps faltering akin to those of a sailor navigating uncertain seas.

Along the way, I encountered a doorway that sparked a flicker of recognition—an inkling that it might lead to the chamber Jaxon, my fiancé, occupied.

Despite the wine's muddling effect on my thoughts, a magnetic pull urged me onward.

They say if someone see their fianceé in their wedding dress it means bad luck, still I didn't mind. I do not believe in such nonsense.

I pushed open the door, a gush of wind blowing against my face, his cologne filled the room like water in a tub.

To my astonishment, the room stood vacant, no sign. of human presence. Jaxon's suit still on the hanger. Untouched. A soft chuckle escaped me.

I guess maybe it's fate that we do not see before the wedding.

My delicate fingertip trailed along the fabric, a fond smile gracing my lips in the midst of the solitude.

With a private smile, I felt anticipation send a tingling sensation through my veins. I longed to hear the titles—Mrs. Iron, the Queen of the Northern Isles, or perhaps even His Majesty—addressed to me.

I would let go of everything about me. About my past. About my beating. I would be free.

I took a deep breath, packed my wedding dress in my hands on turned to leave. I already felt a bit better.

As I turned, ready to leave the room, a sound stopped me in my tracks.

It didn't feel real at first until I heard it again.

The unexpected moan that shattered the silence.

"Yeah...please..." The female voice said. I felt as if cold water had drenched my dress as I stood there, face ashen, gooseflesh all over my skin.

"Turn around, I want to fuck you from behind"

My heart was beating fast against my chest. It couldn't be true, it can't be true. There is no way, right? Please someone tell me I didn't just hear my own fiancé voice.

I wanted to remove the voice from my head and act like I didn't hear them but I couldn't.

The sounds was coming from the separate bedroom, pulling my focus like a magnet.

A frown tugged at my forehead, and my steps turned deliberate as I traced the source. I prayed silently that it wasn't true.

Guided by the noise, I approached a nearby doorway. It led to a secluded bedroom, the sounds within growing more distinct.

It sounded like the wild mumblings of a man and woman in great pleasure.

An uneasy ripple coursed through me, it couldn't be…could it?

With caution, I guided my feet towards the door, my fingers wrapping around the cool doorknob. I wrap my fingers around the doorknob. With a deep breath, I turned it, my heart beats frantically within my chest.

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