Tomboy and her admirer

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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"You don't have to do this, Jenna," I enunciated every word slowly, my hands splayed out in front of me. My Shirley Temple lays forgotten on the rooftop railing. I am much too concerned about doing everything I can to make sure Jenna doesn't jump off the ledge she is currently dangling from.

Seriously, how did this night take on such a dark turn? Half an hour ago, I was doing shots with Gary at the bar and dancing my ass off to Kendrick Lamar. I had escaped out of here to catch my breath, only to come face to face with suicide's mistress.

I know Jenna from marketing. She is a year ahead of me. We did a marketing project together a couple of years ago. I remember how she had owned and dominated that project. Our supervisor had been very impressed with our pitch, going on to treat us to a fancy dinner that night.

Where is that woman now? What happened to her ending up here tonight?

"You don't have to jump, okay? Whatever it is, we can talk about it. You can tell me about what happened. We'll figure it out together."

I feel like I am talking to a toddler. It makes me tense and jittery. Jenna shakes her head miserably. Her eyes are stained with so much mascara, that she could easily pass for a raccoon.

"I don't want to live anymore, not when he is getting married to her."

"Who?"

"Nate. From media. We've been dating for over two years now. I was expecting a proposal, but guess what? He broke up with me two weeks ago. He'd been dating some hotshot lawyer the whole time we were together. He asked her to marry him tonight. I saw it on Instagram.

"Oh wow."

Jenna sniffs. Do you know the worst part? He called to ask for my blessing. He wants me to be happy for him.

"What a douche."

"A lucky douche, who bagged a lawyer with a cushy trust-fund, while I'm here, dangling from a ledge, about to end my own life."

"If you do this, Jenna, you will be letting him win."

"But what else can I do?"

"You can decide to step down from the ledge and vow to live your very best life starting from tonight."

"It's not as easy as it sounds."

Jenna looks so sad, and I feel sorry for her. It is the only reason why I decided to be vulnerable as well. Why did I decide to spill my deepest, darkest secret to her? Thank heavens we are the only two people out on the roof.

Sighing, I leaned against the railing and retrieved my drink. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I have been in love with my sister's boyfriend for the past three years. Well, technically, he was my boyfriend first. I met him six years ago when I started at the company. We hit it off immediately. Quickly became best friends. He never saw me as anything more than that. But I knew it was going to happen someday. I was so sure of it. Until he met my sister."

Jenna stares at me for the longest time, and then, she scoffs. "No offense Ming, but I would also go for your sister if I was a guy. I've seen photos of her on your IG. She's a total goddess."

I snorted at that. "Whatever."

Jenna's smile and something about that smile warms my heart and makes me feel like I am walking on fluffy clouds.

"Don't die tonight?" I pleaded.

"Listen, Ming, I know you are just trying to help, but if I don't jump, I'm still going to wake up tomorrow with this awful pain in my chest."

I nodded. "I understand that you are hurting right now, but trust me, you are going to get over Nate 'what's his face.' It's all going to get better. One day at a time. Just, please don't give up. Huh, Jenna?"

"Okay, fine. I won't," she promised. Then, she gives me her hand and lets me help her get off the ledge.

"Thank you," I said, helping her gain balance on her feet.

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