The Moon fire Heir

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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Selena's POV

My eyes fluttered open, and I slowly took in my surroundings. Confusion filled my mind.

Why was I in the forest?

The full moon was high in the indigo blanket that was the sky. My eyes roamed around, trying to gauge where I was.

I was lying on a pile of stones; the hardness of it pierced into my skin. My breath quickened. What was going on?

I squirmed, trying to sit up. It was only then that I realized my arms were tightly bound to my body. In a panic, I brought my gaze to my legs. They were tied together. My heart rate quickened, and despite the chill in the air, sweat trickled down my spine.

"HELLO," I called out, hoping there was somebody, anybody out there who could get me out of this. Silence responded back to me.

With wide eyes, my chest heaved up and down in panic as a chill ran through my entire being at the thought that I was in serious danger.

Not only that, I couldn't feel it. My powers. The familiar energy that I usually felt in my core was...gone.

Dread filled my bones.

A sound pulled me out of my thoughts, and I whipped my head to the source. Relief flooded through me when I saw that it was Damon. He was coming out from the shadows of the bushes, dressed in a black robe. That was odd.

I released a shaky breath. "Damon. What's going on? I was on the couch one minute, and as I opened my eyes, I found that I'm here."

My mate moved closer, taking casual steps as he did. The breeze of the night tousled his blonde hair, and as he stepped closer, I saw it. The menacing look on his face.

My heart dropped. "D-Damon, what-"

"The almighty Irene Blackthorn," he sneered. "Weak and useless, like you were always meant to be."

My eyes widened as I took in shaky breaths. "What is going on?"

The scowl on his face deepened, his brown eyes empty. "I always hated you, Irene. You were just too blindsided by the mate bond and your love for me to see that." His jaw clenched. "You were too annoyingly perfect, carrying the pack on your back as if it wasn't you, then no one else."

My breath hitched with every word that left his mouth, as if they were venom.

"And to top it off, the moon goddess had to give you those powers of yours." He gave a bitter laugh. "I bet you always felt like a god when you used them, huh? You always felt like you were untouchable, that no one could stop you, right?" The grin on his face stretched, but it didn't reach his eyes.

Tears were at the edge of my eyes as I took in every word he said, every word that pierced my heart like daggers. "Why are you doing this? Let me go, Damon, and we can talk this out." My voice shook as I spoke.

He scoffed, "You think I'm stupid? This is a one-time chance for me, and I can't afford to waste it." He removed a silver knife from beneath his cloak with a wicked smirk.

My head shook slowly as a tear dropped from my face. "You can't kill me. If you do, you'll die too because of the bond, Damon. We can talk about this?" I tried to let him see reason as the panic inside me welled stronger.

I closed my eyes to tap into the non-existent energy that was my power. Nothing. I opened my eyes, then shut them again, trying once more.

A dark chuckle escaped Damon's mouth. "Don't bother. Your powers are diminished. They're still there, but they're pretty much useless right now," he said as he twirled the silver dagger in the air, the blade bouncing off the reflection of the moon.He looked into the distance and yelled, "You can come out now."

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