Pregnant With The Hidden Billionaire's Triplets Novels & Stories

I know i accepted getting pregnant but the fact that it is real made me feel numb. Now i am four months pregnant and im swollen like a whale. My belly looks like im nine months pregnant. When we went for a sonogram we found out that i was pregnant with triplets and since it was the first time being pregnant, i am going to have a c-section. Killian has been kept in our cells and he has been acting psychotic. The time he found out i was indeed pregnant, he shouted through the bar of his cell at me telling me how i am letting his baby get raised by killers. When i told him that the baby wasnt his and i was never pregnant when i ran away from him he tried choking me. Luckily i was sort of far fr

The budget for my daily meals was more than my old monthly salary. All I had to do was rest, grow his baby, and wait for my ten billion dollars. The pregnancy was smooth. Every ultrasound showed the baby was developing perfectly. I even saw them kicking inside me. Yes, them. They found out it was triplets in the third month. When Killian heard the news, I saw a flicker of... satisfaction? ...on his stone-cold face. "Good," he'd said. "The Blackwood line needs heirs." But now...

"You think you've won. You think destroying my network means you're safe." "You're finished." My voice came out raspy, my throat damaged from her choking. "The FBI has everything. Your files, your bank accounts, your people. You have nothing left." "Nothing?" Victoria's smile was terrible. "Oh, Ava. I have something you can't take away. Something that changes everything." She placed a hand on her stomach, the gesture deliberate. Meaningful. My blood ran cold. "No." "Yes." Victoria's smile widened. "I'm pregnant. Eight weeks. Confirmed by three different tests."

Her tears mixed with the sweat on her pale face as she begged, “Please… save my baby. I’ll do anything. Just save my child.” The doctor hesitated. It was hard to reconcile this desperate, broken woman with the image of a murderer painted by the media. Suddenly, a rush of blood signaled the final stages of labor. The room erupted in urgency. “The placenta has detached!” shouted a nurse. “Prepare for heavy bleeding!” “The baby’s out! It’s twins—a boy and a girl!” But joy was short-lived. The boy had been without oxygen too long and was unresponsive. Moments later, Mila’s heart stopped.

"She never forgave me." "So she's been waiting. Watching. Looking for a way to hurt you." "And now she's found it." He looked at my belly. "You. Triplets. The heirs my mother wanted. If Elena can control the pregnancy — or destroy it — she wins." I covered my belly with both hands. Protective. Fierce. "She's not touching them." "That's not a promise you can make." "Then we make it." I met his eyes. "Together." He stared at me.

"Or something even bigger?" The live chat flooded with messages: “Who kidnapped Rachel?” “OMG, are those her kids?!” “Ethan Dawson is involved? This is huge!” “So the rumours are true, they are triplet” “How can Ethan propose to a lady that has three kids that are not her ex husband's own. Suspicious" Ethan gritted his teeth. The media had turned this into a spectacle. “We’re almost there,” Greg confirmed. “Just another two minutes.” Mia clasped her hands together, whispering a desperate prayer. “Please, let them be okay.”

The mansion had become a prison made of headlines. Everywhere Elena looked, her face stared back at her from television screens and magazine covers. The mysterious pregnant woman. Damien Blackwood’s lover. The scandal carrying the billionaire heir. She hated all of it. Especially the way people looked at her now. Like she had won some twisted lottery. Nobody saw the fear beneath the glamorous headlines. Nobody saw how alone she still felt inside this enormous mansion. Elena stood near the kitchen window early that morning, staring silently at the rain outside while one of the maids nervously placed breakfast onto the table. “Miss Hart?” Elena blinked softly. “Yes?”

Black suit, ruthless jawline, eyes so dark they seemed to pierce the camera itself. The caption beneath his name made my stomach twist violently: Lucian Backwood. CEO. Heir to Backwood Enterprises. The man I’d given myself to in a haze of grief and alcohol wasn’t some anonymous mistake. He was one of the most powerful men in New York. “No,” My voice broke as I stumbled back, pressing my hand over my mouth. “No, Maya, that’s not possible. It can’t be him.” “It's a fact.” Maya’s voice was iron. “I triple-checked. And guess what? He’s not just anyone. That man is Lucian Backwood, billionaire, golden boy of the corporate world.” Her eyes locked onto mine. “And the father of your child.”

I stared down at my phone and blinked, but the text message still remained on the screen, proving that I wasn’t just seeing some things. I felt like a bucket of cold water was poured all over my body. But who could know about the triplets? Only a few people in our company knew that I have children. I didn’t intend to hide the fact that I gave birth to triplets, but all these years, I wanted to have peace. I planned to stay lowkey for the sake of my babies. But now, someone’s claiming to know my secrets. Judging from the text message, could he/she possibly know about Hudson and Brixton too?

When he’d got me pregnant with the Triplets? Devastated by that new knowledge, I collapsed down on the bed. I pushed the newspaper away from me in anguish and disgust. Tears lashed my eyes. I am just a total clown! No wonder Luciano had such a thing about publicity and discretion. I had fallen in love with another woman’s husband. Now he was offering to come to my rescue, no doubt determined to swiftly spirit me away from any contact with the press. Would I allow him to do that? To me?