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Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance
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.
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The Sword Master Only Wants to Protect
"Master, do you miss this apprentice?" Lips painted bright red ticked up in a sharp smile. Her eyes were a pool of dark red, like a swirl of the finest wine. One jaded hand in his throat, nails slightly digging in the skin there, the other was on his cheek carefully caressing. The clashing of bot
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Sword of the Immortal
After Lin Beichen was kind enough to save a man, the man who called himself "Death" forced him to receive a mobile phone in return for his kindness. Then Lin Beichen's magical journey began. His soul traveled through time and space. However, an unexpected disaster soon befell Lin Beichen before he c
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The Master of Game
This is an EXACT reproduction of a book published before 1923. This IS NOT an OCR'd book with strange characters, introduced typographical errors, and jumbled words. This book may have occasional imperfections such as missing or blurred pages, poor pictures, errant marks, etc. that were either part
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Joan of the Sword Hand
Joan of the Sword Hand by S(amuel) R(utherford) Crockett
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Master of the Vineyard
Unlike some other reproductions of classic texts (1) We have not used OCR(Optical Character Recognition), as this leads to bad quality books with introduced typos. (2) In books where there are images such as portraits, maps, sketches etc We have endeavoured to keep the quality of these images, so th
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The Trail of the Sword, Complete
Once, many years ago, in a kind of despair, you were impelled to say that I would "never be anything but a rascally lawyer." This, it may be, sat upon your conscience, for later you turned me gravely towards Paley and the Thirty-nine Articles; and yet I know that in your deepest soldier's heart, yo
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THE SON OF THE ETERNAL SWORD
On the night the sky forgot how to remain whole, it bled. Not rain. Not light. Something older. And in that fractured hour-when time hesitated between what was and what should never be-nine children drew their first breath. Most did not survive. The world buried the night. History denied it. Mem
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The Master of Illusions: Unveiling the Truth
I lay dying on the cold Chicago asphalt, Nightfall's attack tearing through me. My last hope, the Heartstone Amulet, was clutched in my hand, meant for Mark, our fallen leader, the one the Order truly needed. Then Olivia, the orphaned girl I' d raised and loved like a sister, knelt beside me. I
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Comeback Of The Mysterious Master
The once formidable Brennen went into hiding in a bustling city. Despite his high status, he took up a job as a delivery man. He was enjoying life as just an ordinary guy. But one day, he got drunk and had a one-night stand with the daughter of an elite family, impregnating her in the process. Peop
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Mightier than the Sword
If you had been standing on a certain cold night in January opposite the great building where The Day is jewelled in electric lights across the dark sky, you would have seen a little, stout man run down the steps of the entrance at the side, three at a time, land on the pavement as if he were prepar
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The Sword of Welleran and Other Stories
Lord Dunsany was an Irish writer in the early 20th century. Dunsany was an early writer of fantasy fiction and his short stories are still widely read today. This edition of The Sword of Welleran and Other Stories includes a table of contents.
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The Sword and the Flame
In a world torn by war and disturbance, a young fellow named Kael lived in a modest town on the edges of the realm of Veridia. From a young age, Kael tried to turn into a considerable fighter equipped to protect his kin from approaching dangers. Kael's enduring desire drove him to pass on his town
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