Accidental Billionaires Book Novels & Stories

No affection. Just a billionaire who got what he wanted— And left her needing more.

"don’t worry, what are humans for? As long as I am alive, I will take care of you till there is a turning point. Evana took care of him for a year. She vanished into thin air one day. Benjamin waited for her, but he didn’t hear from her. He had an expensive necklace which looked ordinary but was very valuable. He sold the ring and got enough money. When he was living with his wife, he had a bad feeling that something would happen, so he didn’t tell his wife about the money he had saved in different banks. He went abroad with that money, came back and started a new business. It took him just a year to build an empire.

“Dalia, the moment you step out of this house, you are no longer Miss Thompson. You don’t need to do anything...I actually envy you.” I sighed in defeat. Maybe Emily is right. She is always right to me. “I thought about flaunting the fact that I am a billionaire’s wife but I couldn’t even see the end of it.” I said, remembering the time I bought dresses, shoes and bags. I am sure I didn’t tell Emily of my extravaganza. I thought I could make Eros angry or something but he didn’t even say anything. He must have seen the debits but ignored them.

He muttered blandly to himself. The accident had been horrible. He was on his way to Nevada, to meet Nate who needed his help to secure a business partner. Nate ran a manufacturing company and had hoped Seth would help him secure an investor. From nowhere, a truck appeared almost ramming into him. Seth had done the only thing he could think of at that moment. He swerved his car into the mountains and the rest of his memory concerning that trip was pain and agonizing agony. He couldn't recall much that didn't involve searing pain through his limbs and several doctors hovering around him, speaking gibber. Three surgeries later, he was fine, with only a slight limp to his left leg and a major f

Silence suddenly took over their conversation as Jackson dumbfoundedly stared at Chris’s cheerful eyes and bright smile. “Congratulations! You are a billionaire and the father of a triplet! Ta-da!”

And the second the door shut, I locked it again and leaned against it, trying to catch my breath. What the hell was I going to do? I opened my laptop and typed in the only thing I remembered. Zane. Jogger. Tall. Dark hair. Grey eyes. That wasn't much to go on, but I was a Roothmoore. We didn't quit. After some serious digging and maybe a little hacking help from an old friend who owed me a favor. I found him. Zane Stonehart. CEO and founder of Stonehart Dynamics, one of the fastest-growing tech security firms in the country. Worth billions. Philanthropist and private. The man had more walls than a prison. And apparently, enough money to buy twenty countries.

Pride of the Billionaire Bachelor, 1095 Days of Dangerous Temptation and Second Chance for the Billionaire. These I picked upon careful selection, in one way or the other, I fancy these books because it has something to do with me. The first two from the blurb are themed on sexy obsession and the third is all bothered on a second chance. The hero is a billionaire who offended the heroine and both broke up, they later met unexpectedly, and what will happen between them? The interesting blurb actually prompts me to pick them up. "Can I take the three of these, I want to read them. They seem interesting."

' it read. My eyes widened as I took the opportunity to open one of the screenshots. There were pictures of me and Vincent, both of us laughing and deep into conversation. Our faces were clear as day in every one of the pictures with articles already written about us. It had barely been an hour, and all of this was already out. I panicked, browsing through the articles. Most of those articles were written by writers who assumed I was a rich heiress. With that dress, who wouldn't? Luckily, most of them were focused on Vincent with outrageous headlines like: 'Is the playboy billionaire finally ready to settle down?' or 'Who is his new love?' the most outrageous one being, 'Has the playboy fina

I whispered back. "Mrs. Stranger." "Mr. Stranger." He laughed — soft, real, undone — and his hand tightened at my waist. "Come on," he said. "Let's go home." I did not ask whose home. I did not ask anything at all. I let my husband of approximately forty-five seconds take my hand and lead me out of the chapel, into the warm Vegas night, toward a penthouse I had not booked, in a city I had never been to, on the happiest, drunkest, most catastrophically reckless night of my entire life.

It was completely empty except for a single bed, a nightstand and a dresser, with a small table and a chair by the window. The man had more than enough money, and was rumored to have billions, yet he brought me here? I wasn’t even surprised. Clutching my arms tightly, I pressed my lips together, before sitting on the bed, still wearing my white wedding dress. I stared at the floor and hugged my arms around myself, letting the reality of my situation slowly settle into a mold in my head. This was never the kind of life I wanted for myself.