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Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance Novel Cover

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 8

Cali burst into the secure playroom, slamming the door and locking it.

She ripped the mask off her face, gasping for air as if she had been underwater. Her face was flushed, her heart racing so fast it hurt.

"We leave. Now," she commanded.

Aron and Davy were already packing their gear into their backpacks. They looked guilty.

"Where is Elia?" Cali asked, scanning the room.

The boys exchanged a look.

"She... she dropped her ribbon," Aron mumbled. "She went back to get it."

Cali felt the blood drain from her face. "She's out there? With him?"

"She said she'd be right back!" Davy defended.

Cali grabbed her phone and dialed.

"Hey beautiful," a smooth, baritone voice answered. "Ready to say yes to the ring?"

"Cut the crap, Kegan," Cali snapped. "Hilliard is here. Elia is missing in the building."

The playful tone on the other end vanished instantly. "Shit."

She heard the furious sound of typing. "I'm scrubbing the building's feeds now," Kegan said. "Accessing the garage cams... damn it. Hilliard's team is already downloading the buffer."

"Can you stop them?"

"I can corrupt the files, but I need two minutes," Kegan warned. "If he sees her face on those tapes..."

"I have to go find her," Cali said.

"Put the mask back on, Cali," Kegan ordered. his voice hard. "Don't let him see Cailin. If he sees Cailin, the war starts today."

Cali shoved the mask back onto her face. Her hands were shaking so badly she almost poked her eye out.

"Stay here," she told the boys. "Do not move."

"I'll jam their radios," Aron said, opening his laptop again. His face was set in grim determination.

Cali ran back into the hallway. She moved through the shadows, avoiding the main corridors.

She reached the loading dock area. It was a cavernous space filled with crates and shipping containers.

"Comb the area!" Hilliard's voice echoed off the concrete walls. "The kid can't have gone far. Look for paint on their hands!"

He was hunting.

Cali crouched behind a forklift. She scanned the room.

There.

Behind a stack of wooden crates near the exit ramp. A small flash of velvet.

Elia was huddled there, frozen. She was watching Hilliard pace back and forth like a caged tiger.

Hilliard turned. He spotted the movement.

"Hey! You there!" Hilliard called out.

Cali lunged forward, but stopped. She was too far away. If she ran out now, she'd be tackled by his guards.

Elia stepped out from behind the crates. She lifted her chin. She didn't cry. She looked exactly like Hilliard did when he was facing a hostile board takeover.

Hilliard strode toward the child.

Cali watched in horror as father and daughter faced off for the first time.

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