The Billionaire's Hidden Triplets

Mabel’s POV.

“Please, Mr. Sanderson. I just need a few more days. I will get you the rent.”

“You said that last week, Mabel. And the week before, and the week before that. I’ve been more than reasonable!”

“I'm working extra shifts at the restaurant. I-I promise, I’ll have your money very soon, give me more time.”

“You’ve had time, Mabel, and you’re running out of it. I want my money tomorrow or I’m kicking you out of the apartment. End of discussion!”

And just as he’d called, my landlord ended the call and the phone buzzed against my ear. I stood alone in the alley and glanced up at the hot afternoon sun. Fresh tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall, wiping them with the back of my hand. Sometimes, I feel fate deliberately sends chaos in my life just to see how much I could take. But crying has never solved any of my problems, it wouldn’t now.

The door behind me swung open and a familiar voice roared.

“Mabel Parker!!!”

Oh, no!

Slowly, I turned around and my gaze settled on Manager Evelyn. Her eyes blazed with fury and her nostrils flared.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked.

“I came out to answer a call from my landlord. I’m sorry. It was important.”

“Important?” she interrupted. “I have a full diner and you come out here to take a call?” she shrieked and pointed an index finger at me. “One more slip, one more lackadaisical attitude from you, Miss Parker, and you’re fired!”

Fired? My eyes widened with shock. No, no, no! I can’t get fired, I needed this job more than anything.

“I’m sorry, Madam Evelyn. It– it won’t happen again.”

She hissed and headed back inside the diner. I knew better to follow her if I didn’t want this to escalate. I tucked my phone in my apron’s pocket and stumbled after her.

The diner was its usual ambiance, the place was packed with people typical of an afternoon rush.

Pulling out my jotter, I stumbled to the closet table and plastered a smile on my face. “What may I get you, ma’am?”

The woman looked up from the menu. “Just a coffee for me, and a grilled cheese for my son,” she said. I glanced at the toddler doodling on a napkin.

“Got it,” I said and finished jotting down their order. I proceeded to the next table.

Behind the table was a small family—the man and the woman played with their daughter, telling jokes and laughing heartily as they scanned the menu. It reminded me of the family I used to have. My mother, when she was alive, used to make every moment feel like a celebration. She’d hum while making breakfast, tell stories that had my father and me laughing till our sides hurt, and tuck me in with a kiss every night.

But that all changed the day she didn’t come home. The car accident took her away from us in an instant, leaving behind a void so large it swallowed everything good in our lives. It has been five years now.

My father has never been the same. At first, he tried to hold it together for me, but the grief became too much.

He started staying out late—first at bars, drowning his sorrows in alcohol, and then in casinos, chasing some illusion of solace in the spin of a roulette wheel.

It was only a matter of time and he stopped coming home entirely. The letters from the mortgage company started piling up on the kitchen counter, each one more urgent than the last, and then eventually, I lost my home.

I rented a studio apartment down the street. It wasn’t easy surviving alone without my father, but I had no choice.

However, two nights ago, he showed up at my door. “Father?”

“I had nowhere else to pass the night, so I was thinking if you could let me in.”

It was raining and late into midnight.

I let him into my home. “Come in.”

I made him tea and offered him a couch and my blanket. He pretended to be a changed man until I woke up the next morning to my savings gone and all the groceries in my fridge. This was the fourth time he was doing this to me.

And thus, I was betrayed again by the one person who was supposed to protect me.

Tears gathered in my eyes and I stylishly wiped them, and proceeded to the table.

“What may I get you?”

The woman looked up first and a broad grin parted her lips. “I will take grilled Salmon with steamed vegetables,” she said.

“An apple pie and a cup of chocolate ice cream,” the girl said.

“I want chicken Tenders with mac and cheese,” the man added.

I jotted down their orders and just as I turned to leave, the bell above the entrance door jingled and five men, all dressed in black coats—walked into the diner. I didn’t need to be told who they were. Each time my father appeared at my doorstep, he always left his mess for me to clean up.

Quickly, I turned away, keeping my head down as I shuffled back to the counter. I turned my attention to the fridge and began cleaning it.

“Mabel Parker!!” one of them barked and the once busy diner fell irrevocably quiet. They’ve found me, haven’t they? Footsteps inched towards me and slowly, I turned around. “Hiding like your father?”

“Welcome to Maple Lane Diner. What may I get you?” I plastered a smile on my face.

“Cut the bullshit!” the man before me rasped, obviously the leader of the group. “Where is your father?”

“I–I don’t know where he is,” I stammered.

“It’s fine.” The man scoffed. “Since you’re his daughter, his debts fall on you. Where’s our money?”

“Money? I don't have any money,” I replied sincerely.

“Cut the bullshit!” he banged the table.

“He took everything from me. I don’t have any money.”

My pleas fell on deaf ears. The man grabbed a plate from the counter and threw it on the floor. The smashing sounds of ceramics filled the air.

“Please stop!” I begged. “Don’t draw the attention of my manager.” Too late, the door behind me flung open and Madam Evelyn walked into the room.

“What the hell is going on here?” she asked.

“Your employee here is owing us and has refused to pay us,” the man before the counter answered and turned his attention back to me. “Three days, Miss Parker. You have three days or you will regret it.” He turned and just as they came, they left and Madam Evelyn’s furious gaze darted to me.

“I can explain.”

“To my office, Mabel!” she snapped.

Tears gathered in my eyes but I fought them back. My heart pounded in my throat as I stepped into her office and she slammed the door after me. “I warned you, didn’t I?” Madam Evelyn rounded the brown table in her office and sat.

“Please. My father. I didn't…” I stammered.

“That’s none of my business,” she interrupted harshly and shoved an envelope to my face. “You’re lucky I didn't charge you for the plate,” she added.

The tears which I have been fighting all these while, finally found their way down my face. “Please–“

“Have a nice life, Miss Parker!” She gestured at her door.

At this point, I realized there was no point begging, I picked up the envelope which was my day’s pay, which I’m sure can’t feed me for more than two days, and headed out.

All through the ride to my house, I held myself together refusing to show my weakness to the public, but once I was behind the doors of my apartment, I plummeted on the floor and sobbed.