Accidental Billionaire Bride Novels & Stories

Dozens of no⁠tificat⁠ions, messages⁠, missed calls. And one headline that made my stomach‌ drop. “‍The Billionaire’s Bride: Love, Lies, and Leverag⁠e?⁠” T‌he article‌ had my n⁠ame in bol‍d letters. It‍ c⁠alled me a myster⁠y‍ wo‌man with no social backgr‌ound, a po‌ssible p‌aw‌n in a strateg‍ic‍ marriage, and worst o‌f all — it ques‌tioned if I h⁠ad “married into luxu‍ry” fo‌r money.

“Owns multiple companies in LA and abroad. Real estate, tech, you name it. He’s got his fingers in a lot of pies. But here’s the kicker, he’s not married. No kids, no family to speak of. Just this one woman he meets up with on weekends. Keeps her under wraps, but I managed to dig up a few photos.” My stomach dropped as I flipped through the photos. There she was, Bridget. Her face stared back at me from the glossy prints, her smile as radiant as I remembered. But she wasn’t smiling at me anymore. She was smiling at him. Smith. The man who had taken her from me, who was standing as a roadblock to my happiness and progress. A surge of anger boiled inside me, hot and uncontrollable. My hands tr

The city's distant buzz grew faint as Emily sat opposite Liam Westbrook in his glass-walled office, the air between them heavy with tension. She nervously toyed with the hem of her coat, her thoughts spinning from his shocking proposal. Marriage. To a billionaire. For money. It sounded like the kind of wild scheme you’d read in trashy romance novels, not something that happened to real people—least of all her. “I understand this may come as a shock,” Liam said, leaning back in his chair with an air of cool indifference, “but I’m not asking for your hand out of sentimentality. This is a business arrangement, plain and simple.”

One of the men present was my lawyer, he has the legal papers,and I guess the other man was the bride's relative. I am Wilfred Donaldson,the said broke Billionaire who is at the verge of bankruptcy. I am getting married to save the face of my company. I don't need to be told, but I knew I always have this cold look which has kept people away from me. I looked down at my watch, the time was past 8, yet the bride wasn't here. Could she be the type to always look lavish and dolled up? As dangerous thoughts crossed my mind, the door was pushed open. There was no need for me to take a glance before I knew she had arrived.

Some new voice speaks. I move my gaze. I get frightened a little when I see some old woman and my guess say she is Katherine Hobsons "Yes. Hello." I compose myself. "I'm Katherine, wife of the owner of this mansion." She introduces herself, "Nice to meet you." I'm feeling like I'm caught off-guard by her unexpected visit at my work area. It's the first time I'm seeing her in person. The billionaire's wife, who is a billionaire herself, standing in front of me.

This is awkwardly insane, highest level of insanity. “Yes and yes. We are going to have a very private wedding. It is just for me to get my inheritance and that's final." he answered, the way he cares about his inheritance puzzles me. I mean he's already a billionaire why does he want another billion dollar company desperately like this. I guess when you have money you just want more and more.

she hissed immediately, her eyes wide with fear. “No, not about Lucas. Not yet. But he forced a marriage contract on me. It was ten million dollars or losing the company and going to court. Mia, I had to sign it. I’m his wife now, his fake wife, and I have to move into the penthouse tonight.” Mia looked ready to faint. “Are you insane? You’re going to live with him? The one man who could recognize Lucas in a heartbeat? What about the hacking?"

“You will act as my wife in public. In return, your father is saved.” Her chest tightened. “This isn’t funny.” “I don’t joke.” His eyes locked onto hers. Cold. Certain. Unavoidable. Emily stood abruptly, shaking her head. “You expect me to marry a stranger?” “You don’t have the luxury to refuse.” The truth hit harder than anything else. Because it was true. Adrian turned and walked back to his desk, picking up a document. “The terms are simple,” he said. “No love. No expectations. No interference in my personal life.”

"I have to marry his best friends grandson, Paul Sinclair.” I almost dropped my cup. Why were my broke ears hearing billionaire names. The Sinclairs were the richest family in Texas who owned nearly half of everything. I remember seeing Paul Sinclair in magazines. He was tall, blond and unbelievably handsome. For years women across Texas had voted him the state's hottest billionaire CEO. “My grandfather and Paul’s were good friends," Ivy continued, "so they decided each of their eldest grandkids would get married. But six months ago Paul had a terrible accident." She looked away. "He hasn't been the same since."