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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 · 都市
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392 Chs

304- Greek God

(One year later: After Rafael's death)

 

Making a pout, Talia woke up and stretched her body in bed. She yawned loudly but then quickly clamped her hand over her mouth when she sensed a presence right outside the room through the open door.

She blinked and completely changed sides propping herself on her elbow until her eyes fixed on the man right outside her house. He was at it again. 

Barefoot.

Muscles straining as he lowered himself into another pushup. His body had changed so much ever since they found him one year back by the shores of Ashoa River.

He was unconscious and barely breathing.

Every morning it was the same. After a few sets of push-ups, he would jump straight into squats. The way his legs used to bend effortlessly; each motion showed the strength he had built in such a short time. 

Without a break he would move to lunges, alternating his legs with expertise.