The Runaway Heiress And Her Secret Triplets

For three years, I hid my identity as the sole heiress of a multi-billion dollar tech empire to live in a cramped apartment and support my boyfriend, Ben. But the day before our engagement, I stood outside a meeting room and overheard him talking to his wealthy boss, Haylie. "She's just a stepping stone," Ben laughed, his voice full of contempt. "A poor, ambitionless distraction while I work my way up to where I really belong." He mocked the cheap silver ring he gave me, calling it a necessary prop to keep a naive fool happy. He bragged about the multi-million dollar merger proposal he was presenting, planning to use it to secure his promotion and build a future with her. He had no idea that I had secretly negotiated that entire deal using my real connections just to give him his big break. I had sacrificed my family's comfort, my true identity, and my own career just to watch him rise. I poured my heart and soul into our humble beginnings, only to realize he saw my love as a pathetic joke and me as disposable trash. I calmly picked up a pen and voided the merger agreement, tearing my hard work into tiny pieces. I went home, slid the cheap ring off my finger, and dropped it into his mug of cold coffee. "Soon, you'll find out exactly who is nothing." Walking out the door, I pulled out my phone and texted my billionaire father. "I'm in. Announce the merger."

I was eight months pregnant, waiting on the sofa for my billionaire husband to come home. But when the heavy oak doors opened, Cayden threw a fake DNA test on the glass table, showing a zero percent probability of paternity. He accused me of carrying another man's bastard. I cried and begged, swearing I was framed by his childhood friend, Carmella. He didn't listen. Instead, he ordered his massive bodyguards to pin me down while a private doctor forced an abortion pill down my throat. "The Merritt family does not raise bastards. Get rid of it." He forced me to sign divorce papers and ordered his men to throw me out into the freezing storm. Before I was dragged away, I desperately told him the truth: I was the anonymous donor who gave him a kidney to save his life three years ago. He just sneered, saying Carmella had the surgical scar to prove she was the donor, and kicked me out to die. Lying in the freezing rain, vomiting up the half-dissolved poison to save my baby, I didn't understand how the man I loved could be so completely blind. How could he let that woman steal my kidney, my marriage, and murder his own flesh and blood? Five years later, I returned to New York not as his pathetic discarded wife, but as a top-tier medical fixer for the global elite. And my genius five-year-old son has already infiltrated his mansion, ready to tear his empire apart from the inside.

Angel was slammed onto the freezing stone slabs of the central square, surrounded by the deafening, mocking laughter of her clan. Her own sister, Jasmine, stood over her with a look of pure malice, loudly and falsely accusing Angel of sneaking into the Chief's tent to seduce him. Then, Al Stein, the man who had sworn to be her mate, stepped out of the crowd with a twisted face of disgust. "You're a genetic reject. You can't give me children. You're useless." He threw their bone mate ring hard at her face, cutting her cheek, as the crowd roared for her blood. Without a trial, the High Oracle stripped her of her citizenship and sentenced her to eternal exile in the deadly wasteland. To make her punishment a complete joke, the guards dragged out a comatose, dying outcast named Kain, slicing Angel's finger to force a mate bond between the two defects. They were tossed out into the raging blizzard like discarded corpses, the heavy steel gates slamming shut behind them, cutting off all light and warmth. Angel crawled through the snow, her vision blurring from extreme starvation and the biting wind, suffocating under the weight of their lies. Why did her own blood frame her? Why did her mate throw her away to die in the ice? Just as the freezing shadow of death wrapped around her, a sharp, mechanical voice exploded in her mind. [Genetic Evolution Codex activated. Host Status: Legendary Kitsune Prime.] The despair evaporated from her chest, replaced by a burning vow to survive and make every single one of them pay.

Giana woke up drugged and burning with fever in a luxurious hotel suite. Standing before her was Cornel Stark, the most ruthless billionaire in New York. Memories of her past life stabbed into her brain. In that life, her adoptive family and her fiancé Gary had stolen her inheritance and left her to die a brutal, agonizing death. She also remembered how fighting Cornel only made him more violent. So this time, she didn't scream. She endured his brutal punishment, escaped the moment he let his guard down, and swallowed a Plan B pill on the freezing streets. Returning to her adoptive family's mansion, she faced the people who had destroyed her. Her fiancé and her stepsister put on masks of fake concern, secretly mocking her. Instead of throwing a useless tantrum like before, Giana deliberately threw herself down the steep wooden stairs. She smashed her head against the marble floor, using her own blood to shatter their plans and win back her mother's trust. She thought she had finally taken control. She was ready to crush the people who had betrayed her and live for herself. But she didn't understand why the billionaire she had just escaped was suddenly turning her life upside down. When she woke up in the hospital, her room wasn't filled with her family's fake tears, but an ocean of blood-red roses. The heavy door swung open, and Cornel Stark walked in, his gray eyes locking onto her with a dark, predatory hunger. "Remember this feeling, Giana. Every breath you take belongs to me now."

Genevieve was heavily pregnant, holding the legal papers that would transfer her massive family trust fund to her loving husband, Clinton. But as she approached his study, she heard a familiar giggle. Through the cracked door, she saw her cousin Carolynn sitting on his desk, her skirt hiked up, while Clinton smirked and poured bourbon. "Once she signs those papers, we don't need her anymore," Clinton laughed coldly. "The kidnapping is staged for tomorrow. She and the brat disappear permanently." Genevieve gasped, and he spotted her. When she frantically tried to run, her trusted housekeeper blocked the stairs. Clinton dragged her back, beat her mercilessly, and locked her in a freezing, underground cellar. Denied any medical help, she endured agonizing hours of labor alone in the dark, only to deliver a stillborn child. Clinton then walked in, ruthlessly tossed her dead baby's tiny body into a pile of dirty rags, and brutally strangled her. As her lungs burned and the world faded to black, her heart shattered into a million jagged pieces. She had given him everything. How could they be so monstrous as to murder her and her innocent child just for money? Opening her eyes again, the freezing cellar was gone. She was standing in an emerald silk gown at an elite charity gala—the exact night their original kidnapping plot began, a month before she even announced her pregnancy. This time, the naive socialite was dead, and she was going to make them pay in blood.

When I woke up on the muddy bank of the freezing river, I unlocked a brutal, unfiltered preview of my actual future. For the past six months, I had been the town's ultimate joke, chasing after a city boy who looked at me like a diseased insect. Everyone thought I jumped into the river because he rejected me. But the nightmare didn't stop there. In the future I foresaw, my entire family was destroyed. My eldest brother was handcuffed and dragged into a squad car. My second brother died in a pool of blood on the asphalt. My parents passed away from sheer grief and humiliation, and our farm was foreclosed. Meanwhile, Bart Hawkins—my family's sworn enemy, the boy everyone accused of pushing me, but who actually jumped in to save my life—became a billionaire tech mogul. I ended up starving to death in a damp, moldy basement, completely alone. I finally understood that I was just a pathetic, tragic side character meant to drag my family into hell. My own sister-in-law, Felicie, had been stealing our food and money, laughing at my misery behind my back. But right now, my mother was still alive, my brothers were safe, and the farm was ours. When Felicie walked into my bedroom, playing the devoted sister-in-law with a bowl of clear, meatless broth while a stolen roasted chicken thigh leaked grease through her apron pocket, I didn't play along. "What's in your pocket, Felicie?" This time, I was going to tear that horrific future apart with my bare hands.