All Chapters of Claimed By The Triplet Alphas : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

VespaThe gloomy atmosphere of mourning hung heavily in the air at my house, like a giant blanket that had fallen from the land of the dead. I stayed back at home all weekend, coping with grief.All I did was sit with Snowy perched on my lap and drown myself in books about ancient myths. I'd never been fascinated by them before, but I needed some form of escape.Dad left a huge void in my mom's heart. She mostly kept to herself during the day but woke up as early as four a.m. to cry.Her muffled tears echoed through the walls, bothering me because if she kept on like this, she was going to fall sick.There was little I could do. If crying at that time of the morning was her way of letting out her grief, I couldn't stop her.As the oldest and the one carrying my late father's secret, his death hit me the hardest, even though I hadn't shed a tear. The emptiness in my heart was a huge gaping wound, painful, suffocating and sapping me of my strength.Astrid couldn't sleep in her room alone

VespaAstrid and I continued on our search, exploring for concrete clues for our dad's secret lover. Luck smiled upon us the next evening when we were searching through dusty boxes in the attic."I found something." Astrid's eyes widened as she held up a diary. There were over a dozen handwritten letters from the mystery woman to my dad."Is there any address on it?" I leaned forward with interest, examining one of the letters. A relieved sigh escaped my lips when a location was written at the bottom left of the letter."Hudson Avenue is four hours from here," I said, reaching out for my phone and taking a picture of the address.Astrid's mouth pinched, and she grumbled under her breath. "Are we seriously going to look for a homewrecker?""Come on, Astrid. We don't even know if the woman was aware of Dad's marriage. Let's unravel this mystery once and for all."From the map on my phone, I calculated how long it would take for us to get to Hudson Avenue and tracked down the street. It w

ZekeI stepped out of a lecture to meet Selena, my best friend, in the car park after receiving her text that she had arrived. I scanned the parking lot and noticed a taxi and Selena's distinctive long ponytail braid adorned with seashells, making her easily recognizable. She grinned infectiously and rolled down the window. "You handsome devil."Getting out of the car, she hugged me tightly while I squeezed her back."It's dangerously unhealthy how much I've missed you," she said, as I played with her tail. She was here to help us with our mission of finding the witches on campus."Let's take your stuff to my room before I show you around," I said, helping her lift her suitcase.In the room, she looked around, touching my stuff, while I ransacked her suitcase, which contained a dagger, a map, and several other oddities that I knew nothing about."What's this?" I asked, lifting a large scroll."It's a Grimoire containing spells and information. I can't wait to counter their magic.""Le

VespaThe door to the campus radio station swung open, and I stepped inside. A live broadcast was going on, but as soon as the station staff saw me, they exchanged uneasy glances and stared at me with pity. The more they did, the more upset I got. I didn't need anyone's distressed looks and pity party. It was my cross to carry and no one else's. But trying to put on a happy face was mission impossible. One by one, they offered kind words, and I managed a small, appreciative smile. Deep down, my heart was burning. But what could I do? It was my reality, and snapping at them would make me look like a madwoman in need of a psychiatric evaluation.Ziah rushed to me, his hug lasting longer than expected, making some brows raise suspiciously. He didn't care. Lightly, he fingered a tendril on my hair. The warmth of his embrace brought me to a state of calm and took away some of the tension and stress. Maybe the boys were all I needed—time to live in the moment and not acknowledge the past

Vespa On the night before my dad's funeral, the air inside the house was heavy with lots of activities. My extended family members had arrived, along with some neighbors and coworkers. My mom was welcoming to everyone, trying to be as tough as possible, not wanting to cry or have a meltdown. Astrid was by her side while I sat on one of the recliners in the living room until my back hurt.There were lots of hugs and condolences that irritated me, but what could I do? I couldn't walk away or act differently. I had to carry on with the charade.Although I vowed never to have anything to do with Golgotha, I felt better knowing that my father was my real dad, and I didn't have to trace my new family history.Aunt Irene was in the kitchen, doing what she knew best—cooking up a storm. The scent of cornbread, chicken marsala, gingerbread cake, and potato salad wafted throughout the house into the lounge, where everyone was gathered. Aunt Irene baked all day because this affair was more emot