The Billionaire's Hidden Triplets のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

Angelina wasn’t joking. That morning, she wouldn’t come into my Green Oak mansion.“Stop me here,” she said to my chauffeur a stone’s throw from the gates, and he stepped on the brake. Then she turned to me. “I’ll see you later,” she mumbled and climbed down from the car.I should be worried about her, but when I stepped into my mansion and headed for the stairs, my thoughts were of the server girl—Mabel Parker, as she’d introduced. Images of her crying, her quiet sobs as she ran down the hallway, clouded my head.I tried to find solace in the comfort of my jacuzzi. But even the massage jets and a glass of red wine couldn’t erase my memories of her.To worsen the situation, fragments of last night began breaking through the haze in my mind. The taste of her lips. The feel of her soft skin. The way she moaned as I took her on the bed. The visions were so vivid I found myself desiring her. What the hell! It wasn’t supposed to be so.But I did anyway. It wasn’t mechanical—it was tender.

—Alec—My convoy pulled up before the Auriela Grand Hall. I climbed down from the car and as usual—there were clicks of cameras in a distance.“Alec! Mr. Rivera, just one photo, please!” someone shouted from the press barricade.I didn’t slow my pace until a young photographer, no older than twenty, broke past security and rushed up, breathless and bold.“Sir, please, just one pose. My editor says I need at least one clear shot of you tonight or I lose my job.”He held up his camera like a peace offering, his eyes wide with desperation.I adjusted the cuff of my tuxedo, already losing my patience. But something in his voice, maybe the way it cracked when he mentioned losing his job, made me reconsider.I paused in my track. “Make it quick.”He practically stumbled backward, his camera already up. I turned slightly to the side, hands in my pockets, chin tilted down just enough. The signature Rivera pose.The shutter clicked once. Twice. Done.“Thank you, sir,” he muttered, stepping bac

—Alec—I was with Clarissa Wren, but my attention kept drifting to Mabel.The moment Dr. Evelyn left, I dismissed Clarissa. “Excuse me, a minute,” and headed over.Nothing prepared me for the shock that tumbled my system when she denied knowing me.“It’s me, Alec. Alec Rivera,” I stuttered, flabbergasted.But she insisted not knowing me.It was her scent. I was certain. It was those brown eyes—the same ones I had looked into that morning six years ago.How could she not remember me? Or was she snubbing me? Reducing me to nothing.I was still trying to wrap my head around it, when that ‘bastard’ walked in. Tom Marlow.She brushed us off as if we were children.Boys?No woman has ever called me that— except my grandma. They feared me. Respected me. Revered me…none had ever tried to look down on me as she did.Yet, I wasn't even offended. I only wanted to be acknowledged by her. What was that? Helplessness.I am Alec Rivera. I’ve never been helpless before a woman.Gnashing under my bre

—Alec—“We’re here, sir,” Mr. Benson announced.I looked up from my phone—the Maybach had pulled up into the VIP parking lot of my favorite mall.My gaze drifted across the tinted windows and sighted my security, keeping tabs on me from a respectful distance.Good. Today, I intend to keep a low profile.A valet surged forward, opened the door, and bowed. “Welcome, Mr. Rivera.”Glancing at him with a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes, I tucked my phone into my pocket, and alighted from the car.My steps were swift and purposeful as I headed toward the private elevator and pressed in the number for the top floor.I glanced at my watch. It was 2 PM.The glass doors closed and the elevator began its smooth ascent, dinging open again at the top floor.Exhaling, I stepped into the mall, taking in the cool air and the sight of families walking through the wide corridors. Laughter rang in the air and small feet pattering on the marble floor as a little boy ran past me.“Richard!” His moth

—Alec—Time drifted slowly.One moment, I was in my bedroom, still processing the fact that Mabel Parker hadn’t called or tried to reach out. The next, I was seated in the boardroom of my company’s skyscraper, rounding off a meeting with my team for the government contract as the afternoon sun bathed Washington city in its golden haze.My company, the Rivera Group, had secured a spot among the top contenders for the contract, and had been invited to the Federal Conference taking place tomorrow at the Ronald Reagan Building.The meeting came to a smooth end, and while my team exited the room, I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, sipping from my glass of water. I watched the city below bustle—oblivious to the storm in my head.A soft knock came on the door.I tilted my head, in time to see Janice step into the room. “Sir, they’re almost here,” she announced. Lowering my cup to the table, I slipped on my sunglasses and proceeded out of the room.The ride to the airport was a short one