The Secret Of My Boss by Tassel

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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Chapter-1: A Secret

Aria Anastasia

My black heels were clicking loudly as I took large steps while making my way to the cabin on the twenty-eighth floor. The entire floor had a waiting lounge, a reception where an assistant was present, and a familiar cabin of my boss, as in Zaiden Storm.

I knocked on the polished door, asking, "May I come in?"

"Come in," came a deep curt reply.

I stepped inside after opening the door, only to find Zaiden leaning against his black leather chair, his eyes glued to the screen of his laptop.

"Why are you so rude?" I kept the blue file on the desk, looking at the annoying man, Mr. Zaiden Storm, who also happened to be the CEO of this company.

Well, I wasn't Mr. Zaiden Storm's secretary. I was the MD of the Storm Fashion Industry, and Zaiden was just my boss with whom I have been working for the past two years, ever since he has become the CEO.

Zaiden raised his brows, smirking in my direction after looking away from the laptop. "Does it look like I have to answer you, Miss?"

I could feel steam coming out of my ears as I curved my fists into a ball. With a fake smile on my lips which I managed to put, I asked, "Boss, why did you tell my secretary to stay within her limits when she just gave you the blue file which contains information for the Arizon Fashion?"

Zaiden crossed his arms against his chest and said, "How can you send your assistant to give me the file you were supposed to give? Aria, you know I hate it when someone doesn't keep their word."

I glanced at Zaiden's green eyes, wondering whether he was serious or not. Then again, he never joked about anything as far as I knew. So I spoke up with a sigh, "Zaiden, I promised to give you this file and my assistant handed it to you. Why did you yell at her? And you didn't even take the file."

"Well, you brought the file now, and I will give your assistant a bonus as an apology I don't mean at all." Zaiden looked back at the screen of his laptop and asked, "Any more problems?"

I shook my head in disappointment at his behavior. This guy would never change. He was so annoying and rude. How was I surviving by working with him? Only God knew.

I breathed out, "You are impossible, Zaiden." With that, I marched out of his cabin, pushing a few strands of my ginger hair behind my ear.

My messy bun was really messy today because I woke up late in the morning. If I hadn't come here on time, Zaiden would get the chance to make me work overtime and I hated midnight work.

As I was near my cabin on the floor below Zaiden's, I saw my assistant, Yana Aled, who was a still crying mess. She was sitting in front of my door with a chair—she would do that every time she was having a bad day. Her desk was near my cabin, so she would just pull the chair and sit in front of the door until I asked her what had happened.

Well, even I shiver when Zaiden yells, so it must be hard on Yana.

"Yana," I called out to her, and she looked at me with her teary brown eyes. "Zaiden feels bad for yelling at you and wants to compensate by giving you a bonus next month."

"Really?" Even at the mention of money, Yana's tears vanished instantly. "Is the boss really feeling guilty?"

I cleared my throat and nodded my head. I knew I was lying, but as long as Zaiden didn't find out, it wouldn't be a problem for me.

Yana got up from her chair and asked me further, "What else did the boss exactly say? Please, tell me, Ma'am. I really want to know." Her brown eyes grew bigger, as I pictured her ears growing wider to hear some more praises and apologies from Zaiden.

God, forgive me for the big lie I will say now.

"Zaiden said that he feels extremely guilty and sad for hurting such a wonderful woman who does her work very efficiently. He was afraid that you would quit the job. He didn't want to lose a huge gem of the company, which is you, Yana," I started exaggerating further, "These are the exact words of him by the way."

"What else?" she asked again with excitement.

How many apologies and praises does one need to hear? Didn't I say enough?

"He doesn't seem so soft, I know. But in his heart, he is really soft-hearted. As soon as I entered his cabin, his first words were, Please, apologize to Ms. Aled on my behalf."

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