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Mr. President: You Are The Daddy Of My Triplets

"M... Marissa! Are they my kids?" Rafael's eyes weren't moving away from the adorable kids' faces. "No, Rafael. They are not," Marissa said with a fake smile, "They aren't yours. Remember?" she batted her lashes quite dramatically, "We were never married!" Marissa Aaron’s elder sister Valerie Aaron jilted her blind boyfriend on her wedding day and ran off. For face-saving, Merissa's family pleaded to her to marry Raphael Sinclair. The irony? She was not allowed to tell her blind husband that she was not Valerie but Merissa Aaron. On the day of Raphael's successful eye surgery, Marissa got to know that Valerie was back to take her rightful place as Sinclaire’s daughter-in-law. Marissa tried explaining to her husband that she was the one married to him, but he did not believe her. Instead of any more convincing, heartbroken Merissa decided to leave the city without telling him, her secret. Raphael Sinclair was the classic definition of drop-dead gorgeous and was the only heir of the Sinclair group of industries. What would he do when he came to know that all this time the woman who offered him, her love and her body was not Valerie but her younger sister Marissa Aaron? How would he react when he came to know that he was the father of the babies Marissa was carrying in her womb? Would he go after Marissa and win her back? And the million-dollar question! Would Marissa ever be able to forgive him and love him again?

JessicaKaye911 · Urban
Not enough ratings
430 Chs

122- Gerard's Shirt

Marissa was sitting quietly in the car, just looking ahead. She couldn't get Rafael out of her mind.

If he had been polite in their two-year marriage, now he had become the gentlest, treating her like she was made of glass.

"You are too quiet," Gerard remarked keeping his eyes ahead while driving.

"Nah. Just… maybe job problems…" she glanced sideways and then started playing with her purse straps.

"Being in the job is the hardest thing," he said while glancing at the rearview mirror, "It doesn't give you the liberty of making your own choices. You always have to act according to your boss's mood swings. I used to admire you so much when you started this home-based cooking. And now look at you. Stuck like me."

He pushed the brakes when he noticed the traffic jam ahead.

"But I'm enjoying my job, G. It does give me liberty…"