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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Chapter 5
The VIP parking garage was silent, save for the hum of ventilation fans and the occasional drip of condensation. It was a showroom of wealth: Ferraris, Lamborghinis, and right in the center, occupying two spaces, Hilliard's armored Maybach.
Hilliard's driver, a burly man named Kent, was leaning against a concrete pillar, scrolling through his phone.
Suddenly, his phone pinged. A notification: Congratulations! You've won a free year of coffee! Click to redeem at the lobby kiosk!
Kent blinked. "Free coffee?" He looked at the car, then at the elevator. "I'll be two minutes."
He walked away.
The moment the elevator doors closed, a small ventilation grate near the floor popped open.
Davy rolled out, dusting off his knees. He was followed by Elia, who looked like a soot-covered angel.
"Clear," Elia whispered.
Aron's voice came through their earpieces. "Cameras looped. You have five minutes before the loop resets."
Davy unzipped his backpack. He pulled out a can of neon pink spray paint. He shook it.
Clack-clack-clack.
The sound echoed in the garage.
Davy grinned. He stepped up to the pristine black hood of the Maybach.
PSSSHHHHHT.
He sprayed a large, jagged, crooked letter D. Then an E.
"Make it big," Elia encouraged, bouncing on her toes.
Davy finished the word. DEADBEAT. It dripped pink slime down the front grille.
"Perfect," Davy said.
"Upload the virus," Aron commanded.
Davy plugged a small USB drive into the car's external sensor port. "Locking him out... now."
Suddenly, the elevator chimed.
"Abort! Abort!" Elia hissed.
The boys scrambled, diving behind a thick concrete pillar. Elia turned to run, but her foot caught on a grease stain. She stumbled, sliding behind a large trash can just as the doors opened.
It wasn't the driver. It was a security guard on patrol.
The guard walked past the Maybach. He stopped. He dropped his flashlight.
"Holy sht," he muttered. He grabbed his radio. "Control, we have a 10-99 in the VIP garage. Someone vandalized Mr. Holloway's vehicle."
While the guard was distracted calling it in, Elia sprinted across the open space to join her brothers.
"Go, go, go!" Davy whispered.
They squeezed back into the stairwell.
Elia reached up to fix her hair. She froze.
"My ribbon," she whispered. Her hand touched her ponytail. The custom velvet ribbon Cailin had made for her was gone.
"Leave it," Aron said, pulling her arm. "We can't go back."
Upstairs, in the main hall, Monsieur Laurent found Cali. He looked pale.
"Madame, a VIP client demands your expertise. Immediately."
"I have a headache, Laurent. Send someone else."
"I cannot," Laurent whispered. "It is Ms. Charla English. She is... making a scene."
The name hit Cali like a physical blow.
Charla.
The woman who had smiled while Cailin's life burned down.
Cali straightened her spine. A cold, dangerous calm settled over her. She adjusted her mask.
"Fine," she said. "I'll handle her."
She walked toward the VIP suite, her heels clicking against the marble floor like gunshots. Click. Click. Click.
She entered the suite.
Charla was sitting on a velvet sofa, sipping champagne. She looked exactly the same as she had five years ago-beautiful, polished, and radiating entitlement.
She looked up as Cali entered. She looked the masked woman up and down with a sneer.
"You're the help?" Charla asked. "Fetch me some water. Sparkling. No ice."
Cali didn't move. She stood tall, her eyes hidden behind the mask, burning with hatred.
"I am the broker, Ms. English," Cali said, her voice dropping to that low, modulated register. "Not your maid."
Charla blinked, surprised by the tone. "Excuse me?"
"You asked for an appraisal," Cali said, walking to the table. "Show me the item. I don't have all night."
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9.8
Four years ago, I was drugged on a luxury yacht and ended up pregnant with twins.
I raised them in secret, enduring my stepfamily's daily abuse, until the billionaire West family patriarch cornered us at the airport.
He instantly recognized my son's face—an exact replica of his ruthless grandson, Bernardo West.
My malicious stepmother and stepsister immediately leaked to the press that I was a delusional gold-digger using fake kids to trap a billionaire.
They wanted the West family to destroy me to save their own social standing.
Bernardo himself looked at me with pure disgust, demanding a DNA test.
"If you ever lie to me, I will take the children, and I will make you wish you were never born."
I didn't want his money. I was a victim of that night too, left with a crescent-shaped bite mark on my collarbone and zero memory of who set us up.
Why did someone drug us? And how could I protect my babies from a corporate predator who could crush me with a snap of his fingers?
But when the DNA test came back 99.9999% positive, I didn't cower.
I showed him the scar he left on me, looked the most dangerous man in the country right in the eye, and made my demand.
"If you want to claim your heirs, you have to marry me."
9.7
Clarissa rushed into a crowded nightclub for one simple reason: to save her wildly drunk best friend.
But her ruthless billionaire husband, Giovanny, was watching from the VIP room. After effortlessly ruining a man just for grabbing her wrist, Giovanny punished Clarissa for breaching their public image contract with an impossible curfew.
When she inevitably arrived back at his penthouse late, he didn't just yell. He forced her to her knees by his bathtub to wash his back, making her watch an explicit, humiliating video as punishment.
A sudden family medical emergency dragged them to his parents' estate. Still in her soaked, transparent dress and his misbuttoned shirt, Giovanny's mother caught them. She joyfully assumed they had been passionately intimate.
Instead of clearing her name, Giovanny pulled Clarissa close and lied to his mother's face.
"We are working very hard on the family's future, Mother."
He locked her in the guest suite, tossed a sheer silk nightgown on the bed, and literally shattered the tablet holding their "no-contact" prenuptial agreement. He then slapped a file against the window—he had secretly bought all her father's toxic debt.
Clarissa was terrified. They were supposed to be business allies bound by a strict contract. Why was he suddenly acting like a predator determined to own her body and soul?
"Give me an heir, or your father goes to federal prison," he whispered.
Stripped of all choices, Clarissa picked up the white silk. She would surrender tonight to save her family, but as his shadow swallowed her, she made a silent vow to survive this monster, and one day, tear his empire to the ground.
8.4
For three years, Sophia Carter was the perfect wife to billionaire CEO Alexander Kingsley. She loved him quietly while he treated her like a stranger.
When his first love suddenly returns, Sophia is falsely accused and thrown out of the Kingsley mansion with nothing but humiliation.
The divorce shatters her heart-but it also frees her.
What Alexander never knew was that Sophia was never ordinary. She was the hidden heiress of a powerful empire.
Three years later, she returns-richer, stronger, and untouchable.
Now the man who once discarded her is desperate to win her back.
But this time, the woman he abandoned is no longer the same girl.
And revenge has never looked so beautiful.
7.1
Aurora Andrews has never known a life free from pain. Orphaned and left in the care of her cruel uncle and aunt, she endured years of abuse that taught her the safest place was in the shadows.
But even in college, her silence couldn't shield her from the cruelty of her peers. Just as she reaches her breaking point, fate intervenes in the form of Alexander Mark, the powerful and enigmatic CEO of the Vanguard Group company.
Alexander saves her from a nightmare, but one impulsive, accidental night binds their fates together. When the morning light comes, he leaves her with a heartless dismissal, assuming she is just another gold digger looking for a payout. But Aurora carries a secret more precious than anything.
Forced to drop out of school to protect her unborn baby, Aurora fights to survive in a world that wants to break her. But the shadows of her past are closing in; what will happen when her abusive aunt and uncle discover she is pregnant?
And what will become of her when Alexander Mark walks back into her life, unaware of the child growing in her womb?
He left her thinking she was a whore. But the truth is far more dangerous. When their paths inevitably cross again, will he accept the child as his own? Or will he destroy the only chance Aurora has at a happy ending?
"I'm not a whore, I promise you, Sir.
I just wanted to save you... and nothing else."
7.5
Amelia has slaved her whole life, working multiple jobs to help support her poor husband Caleb― only to discover he is a millionaire!
When confronted, Caleb feels no guilt. He divorces her immediately to pursue his true love, leaving her with nothing to her name.
"Kelsie is the woman that I love, the woman who truly deserves to be by my side," Caleb said. "Now, sign the papers and I can end this farce of a marriage."
But thankfully, fate has yet to close all its doors on her.
The messy breakup has led Amelia to meet the elusive Matteo Montgomery, the mysterious owner of X'el International Inc., and even though Amelia could have sworn that this is the first time they have ever met, Matteo seemed to hold more interest in her than ordinary.
With her divorce finalized, Matteo's courtship quickly grows more extravagant. He offers her everything, from a job as his secretary, a new penthouse apartment, and a permanent home in his heart.
But just as Amelia's heart begins to open up to Matteo's sincerity, Caleb comes crawling back, determined to ruin her life.
***
[Excerpt]
"Oh?" Matteo asked, and Amelia caught a hint of amusement in his voice. "Then pray tell, what did we converse about?"
Amelia swallowed. Good heavens, he was so close. She could barely even breathe, afraid that every movement she made would just amplify how loud her heartbeat was. It was racing like a bullet train at this point, and she felt it clog at her throat, refusing her a chance to speak.
"I... I...I―"
"I have no girlfriend, Amelia," Matteo said. "And before you overthink, I do not have a wife in secret either."
His fingers didn't let go of her wrist, and instead, it even tightened its grip. It wasn't painful in the slightest, but it sent surges of electricity rushing through her body as though she had been struck by lightning in the most thrilling of ways.
A coy smile curved his lips, and he leaned in just the slightest. His lips were now a hair's breadth away from hers, and Amelia instinctively held her breath.
"Unless, perhaps you would like to volunteer?"
9.3
Adrian Blackwood , billionaire CEO of Blackwood Holdings, Alpha of the Blackwood Pack... Mated to a weak, broken and wolfless female?!! No way! This is impossible, this must a sick prank by the moon goddess and fate.