My Precocious Triplets Brought me a Husband For Christmas

Today is the last week before Christmas. “Sterling's annual Corporation Christmas Gala” was in full swing. Stephanie adjusted her name badge, “Head of Public Funding and Financial Crimes” as she scanned the banquet hall from the high table reserved for senior management. Across the room, her three eight-year-old triplets sat at the children's section, thankfully behaving themselves at the time. Stephanie listened as Director Brighton hammered on quarterly projections. Her eyes drifted to the children's section. Tyler was probably schooling his brothers about something. Bryan was likely sketching on any white surface. And Perry… She smiled. Perry was probably daydreaming again. "Stephanie?" Brighton's voice pulled her back. "Your thoughts on the Alex embezzlement case?" She straightened. "I'm close to tracing the offshore accounts. I should have solid evidence by next month's meeting.” Tyler surveyed the high table until his eyes landed on his mom who sat between two men in exp

The duplex building had a small playing ground at the corner with swings and a warm swimming pool with a hockey area where the kids could play. As the car parked at the garage, the kids came down one after another. Stephanie was the last. The company's gala had been long. Too long for the children. Her eyes flashed through the surroundings. And as she caught sight of the swings she had loosened from the bolts rolling it up high to the rod. She clutched her bag to her chest and paused. “I wish he was still alive.” She muttered, swallowing hard as her other hand held the tip of her gown. Memories were starting to cloud her vision. She moved to the spot where the swing was then called the attention of her boys. School was out of session. The holiday was here. She thought, as she loosen the seat of the swing, hooking it to the metal bolt. “Tyler. Perry. Bryan. Come.” She called, and they rushed to her. One after the other she helped them sit on it before slowly swirling it back and fro

Perry crouched behind the wall of the hallway, knees pressed tightly against his chest, listening to the house breathing around him. The refrigerator was humming in the kitchen. The clock above the doorway ticked with a steady patience. Somewhere down the hall, their mother shuffled from room to room, her soft, yet deliberate footsteps were those of a person who held too many minds and not quite ready to share them. Perry said quietly, “This only works if we don’t act weird.” Bryan leaned on the opposite wall, arms crossed at the very tip of his biceps, his eyes gleaming as if he had too much energy in the room. “Define weird.” Perry gave him a look. “You know exactly what I mean.” Bryan tilted his head, thinking. “I genuinely don’t have a clue.” Perry exhaled through his nose. “Stop staring. Stop congregating. Stop suddenly taking an interest in Mom’s work life. And don’t pose questions that begin with "do you like..." Bryan winced. “And that rules out curiosity.

The phone rang once. “Good morning,” the lawyer said. “Or is still night there?” Catalina didn’t respond right away. She rested against the balcony railing, her bare feet pressed against the cool stone, the city lights twinkling below her like something living and compliant. “You’re awake,” he added. “I didn’t get any sleep." “That’s usually when you call.” She smiled faintly and lifted her glass, the ice chiming softly. “That’s not casual, you know my patterns.” A pause. She imagined him sitting straighter, glasses pushed up his nose, pen moving already. “You wanted an update.” “I want certainty.” “About?” “Is he still exposed?” The word lingered between them. Catalina made her drink swirl slowly in a circle as she watched the liquid catching the light. She waited. She always did. "Silence makes people honest." “Yes,” he said finally. “Peter didn't lock things down properly after the crash. There are vulnerabilities.” Her lips curved. “That’s generous

“Call it a day?”Stephanie didn’t even blink. Her pen lifted momentarily and hesitated before making another mark in the margin. “No.” is the answer.Peter shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The faint scrape of wood on tile seemed louder than it ought to be in the silent kitchen. He glanced at his watch, frowned a little, then flipped it over on the table and slid it a bit further away from him.“Okay.” Fine.She pushed another file in his direction without meeting his gaze. “This one’s disorganized.”Peter opened it, flipped through the first few pages, and then stopped at the third. “I can deal with the mess.”She exhaled softly. “You say that now.”He flicked his eyes across faster, his lips were tightly pressed. “You’re right. I take back everything I said in your favour.”The corner of her mouth twitched. She didn’t really smile but something relaxed her shoulders.The kitchen clock ticked.Once.Twice.Loud enough for them to hear now that the house was silent.Bryan and Ty