Swing Unscramble

For the socialites, security, stability, and comfortability matters more than finding the right love for you. That's why fixed marriage is proposed. Mary Emily Trañilla is the heiress of a famous clothing line. She never argues and go against with her parents' decisions because she knew they're doing everything for the best of her. She's destined to be engage to Simone Kennedy Garcia, a CEO of the leading hotel and restaurant company in the Philippines. She was so sure of that decision not until she meet the gaze of Simone's half-brother, Apollo. How frightening and exciting would it be to have a secret love affair with your fiance's half brother? Would you dare to swing through the string of destiny and fight for what you really feel or just fearlessly cut off the tie to stand by what the socialites believed in?

The Moretti Family's Thanksgiving party was in full swing downstairs—crystal clinks, fake laughs, classic mafia gloss. Meanwhile, I was curled up in a servant's room on the third floor. Jackson Moretti's wife. Legally, anyway. My hands were ice. I gripped the ultrasound report like it could anchor me. Three heartbeats. Strong, steady. It was supposed to be a surprise—his big Thanksgiving gift. To the outside world, Jackson was a polished Stanford grad, running a top-tier consulting firm in San Francisco. But behind the scenes? He ran the Moretti empire—cold, calculated, pulling strings in the West Coast's darkest corners. Three years of marriage and we barely spoke, but I still clung to the hope that maybe... maybe there was something real left. Then I heard him downstairs. "You really not letting your wife come down?" "Isabella?" He laughed. "She'd kill the vibe." Another voice chimed in. "Lina's back, right? Wild you married her twin. Which one do you actually like?" Jackson didn't miss a beat. "Isabella's just a stand-in. Quiet. Predictable. I could tell her to drop dead and she'd say 'okay.'" "So when are you ditching her?" "Dunno. She thinks she matters. I'm just playing her." I slapped a hand over my mouth to muffle the sob. A minute later, I was heading downstairs, numb. I brushed my fingers over my belly. "Sorry, babies," I whispered. Triplets. His. He thought I was blind. Weak. Stuck. What he didn't know? A quiet woman, once she snaps—she can burn it all down.