Chapter 3. What's the Point in Hiding?

BELLADONNA

Ten years later.

I was stacking cans of beans on the shelves when I heard a hesitant voice next to me.

"Where can I get condoms?"

The question made me blink and glance over. A girl, barely eighteen, stood nervously, her arms wrapped around herself.

I gave her a small smile. "I suggest you get some birth control too, just in case. It's all in the pharmacy section."

Her brows furrowed and she let out a dismissive little huff. "I’m not gonna get pregnant from one Valentine’s date."

"Don't underestimate fate, girl. One second you think everything is fine, one second later boom! You got babies in your womb. Just saying." I shrugged, the weight of my own words sinking in as I thought of my own situation.

She glanced at my nametag—Emerie—the new name I’d been using for years.

“Thanks for the advice, Emerie.”

I wasn’t trying to poke my nose into people's business, but I caught a glimpse of myself in her—young, reckless, thinking the world wouldn’t throw any curveballs. I felt a little pang in my chest and sighed as she wandered off. She’d learn, sooner or later.

I shook my head, returning to my work. The grocery store was quiet, and as I restocked, my thoughts drifted to my kids. Every time I gave someone advice, a part of me wished I could go back and warn my younger self. But that version of me was long gone, replaced by a single mother trying to make ends meet.

After my shift ended, I trudged to my old sedan and drove home, my mind already focused on seeing my babies. The apartment building was as familiar to me as the back of my hand—third floor, door number twelve. Home.

When I opened the door, three pairs of wide, excited eyes met mine.

"Mama!"

Mary, my eldest, jumped down from the dining chair, dashing toward me. Iris, my second, and Andy, the only man in the house, followed their sister to hug me. They were the sole reason I worked my ass off and often burned the midnight oil to do some freelance copywriting.

"Hi, my precious," I said, setting my bag down and pulling them into a hug. "How was your day? Did you eat dinner?"

"Mrs. Cooper brought us beef stew!" Mary exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.

Ah, Mrs. Cooper. The elderly lady next door had been a godsend, stepping in to help with the kids whenever I was working. She was more than just a neighbor—she was the grandmother my children never had. I owed her a lot.

“Okay, that’s great,” I answered, ruffling Andy’s hair. “Any homework I can help you with?”

Mary and Iris proudly held up their notebooks. “We got it, Mama,” they said in unison.

I smiled, my heart swelling with both pride and sadness. They were just nine years old, but they were thriving with independence. They didn’t ask for help, even when they needed it, because they knew I was always working.

“Oh! Can we go to the library this weekend?” Iris chimed in, her big blue eyes filled with hope.

“Sure, sweetheart. We’ll go,” I promised.

After tucking them into bed, I kissed each of them goodnight. Just as I turned to leave, Andy tugged on my hand.

“Mama, wait. I made something for you.”

He pulled a piece of paper from under his pillow and handed it to me. My heart clenched at the sight—it was a drawing of our family. Me, Mary, Iris, Andy...and a father figure.

A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it down.

“It’s beautiful, Andy. You are so talented,,” I whispered, pulling him into a hug. “If your father were here, he’d be proud of you.”

He smiled, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Do you think he misses us?”

I kissed his forehead. “Of course, baby. Now go to sleep.”

Closing the door, I leaned against it, the familiar ache settling in my chest. I wasn't blind. Even though they never expressed it, I knew—they missed the father they never met. The man I’d walked away from, for reasons they might never understand.

Still, it was better this way.

This family was not intact, but I would do anything for my babies, including burying their father's information and their true identity.

***

It was just after 3 p.m. when my shift at the hotel ended the next day. A rare day off from the store had put me in a good mood, and the bright spring sun only made it better.

“Maybe we can go on a picnic this weekend,” I thought, smiling at the idea of surprising the kids.

Humming softly, I headed toward my car, keys in hand. But just as I reached the door, a sudden familiar whiff of vanilla hit my olfaction. I froze. My heart pounded in my chest, dread curling in my stomach.

A black SUV pulled up beside me. The window rolled down, and a rough voice I hadn’t heard in a decade drifted out.

“Bella?”

I turned slowly, my blood running cold. Ryder.

I kept my face neutral, even as my mind screamed at me to run. “Sorry, you must have the wrong person.”

I reached for the car handle, but before I could pull it open, Ryder’s hand clamped around my wrist. He yanked me back, and my spine hit the car door. I glanced up, and my world tilted.

There he was, Ryder, unchanged except for the mature sharpness in his features. His onyx eyes bore into mine, just as intense as they had been years ago.

“I never doubted my eyes. It's you,” he said, his voice rough.

I took a breath, willing myself to stay calm. “Ryder. It’s been a long time.”

He took a step back, his eyes taking over me. “Busy leading the pack you had walked out in secret. You remember Ambersky, don’t you?”

I nodded slowly. “I do.”

“Then why did you leave?” His voice was tight, barely controlled.

A twinge of pain struggled in my heart, burning away a silver lining that had been in view. I didn’t give away any expression.

I had imagined this moment countless times—him finding me, asking questions, maybe even being relieved I was alive. But reality was crueler.

So, I mirrored his action and slapped it to his face. I met his gaze with a scornful smile. “I had my reasons. I got no purpose there. So, before you banished me, I took myself out. Make everything easier.”

Ryder’s jaw tightened. “That’s not how it was, Bella. You belong to the pack, now or then.”

I scoffed. “Ha. Whatever floats your boat, Ryder.”

He stepped forward, his expression darkening. “You can’t just run from the pack. From the family who raised you.”

A red haze clouded my vision. “The one who turned their back when I asked for help? Yes!” I spat. “There is no home for me there.”

He grabbed my arm, his grip hard. “Stop being so childish. You’re coming home with me.”

I wrenched free from him, but the force of my escape sent my shoulder bag crashing to the ground. Its contents scattered across the pavement—my phone, wallet, and a piece of family photo.

Ryder’s eyes locked onto it. Before I could move, he bent down and picked it up, his eyes narrowing as he studied the faces of my triplets.

“What is this?” His voice was low, dangerous. “Who are they?”

“Let it go, Ryder,” I said, my voice trembling as I reached for the photo.

But he stepped back, holding it out of reach. “Answer me, Belle. Are they...are they mine?”

At that moment, everything crashed down around me. I couldn’t let him find out. I couldn’t lose my babies.

“In your fucking dreams,” I snarled, yanking the photo from his hands.

I didn’t wait for his reaction. I gathered what I could and jumped into my car, my heart racing. I sped out of the parking lot, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

Shit, shit, shit. It was only a matter of time before Ryder figured everything out. He would come for them.

Not long after, I burst through the door of my apartment, my mind in a frenzy.

“Mary! Iris! Andy! Get your bags!” I exclaimed, while getting up and down to drag the suitcases from the closet.

Silence.

My heart dropped into my stomach as dread crawled up to my face. My triplets weren’t here.

“Goodness, where are they?”