Accidentally Yours, My Super Rich Second Husband Novels & Stories

Cassy said mindlessly to Amy, ignoring Eve's chastising look. Amy's excitement didn't fade. "Girls, my husband-to-be is not exactly poor." Both girls looked at her in confusion. "Yes," Amy confirmed. "He came clean yesterday to me. He told me that he had been disappointed a couple of times by girls he spoiled with cash. So this time he decided to try again by disguise. The truth is, he is a bank manager. He is not a billionaire, but he is rich. And he says the wedding is going to be grander than I imagined."

MARINA'S COSMETIC COMPANY. "It must feel good to be able to shop in the same aisle as I shop, all because you got married by chance to a millionaire." Marina heard Amira's voice from behind her as she checked out some of the products that had just been sent to her company. "First off, don't insult my husband. He is a billionaire and not a millionaire, what do you mean by calling him a millionaire?" Marina looked physically offended as she twirled from staring at the cosmetics section and directed her attention to Amira.

"I don't recall offering you a dime to marry me." Ava froze. Had her assumption been wrong? Was their accidental marriage really not just some warped prostitution arrangement? His expression sobered, suddenly earnest. "I hate to break it to you, wife, but you wanted all of this. Me, my world, my life as a wayward billionaire bride." His words clung to every sumptuous inch of his godlike physique, dripping with arrogant male ownership over her life. It suddenly felt impossible to breathe in this abruptly small hallway. Ava spun away, denial and rage clawing at her.

For the first time in a long time, I felt free. And this time, I wasn’t just Adrian Hale, son of Richard Hale, heir to a collapsing empire. I was Adrian Cross' husband, partner. And I was exactly where I was meant to be.

I sat on the couch scrolling through my phone when Soren came over with two glasses of wine. “You’re quiet,” he said, handing me one. “Just thinking,” I murmured. “About how weird all of this is.” He sat beside me. “Weird?” “Yeah,” I said, turning toward him. “Two weeks ago, I was worried about paying rent and getting my mom’s medication. Now I’m married to a billionaire, caught in a scandal, and pretending to know how to survive your world.” His lips curved slightly. “You’re not pretending. You’re adapting.”

A man I’ve slept with exactly twice. One of those golden boys of high society, the kind whose name shows up on the covers of financial magazines like it owns the place. The heir to one of the most powerful chunks of the American business empire. If a guy like that fell in love with every woman he slept with a couple of times, Wall Street would’ve been renamed Romance Park years ago. The thought alone helped me regain a little composure. “Now’s not the right time.”

"Tessa, I'll be real. My new dad's the richest man in Seavora. Why else would I send you money every day for years? You never blocked me because you wanted to marry me." I just stared at him. The ego on this guy was unreal. Truth is, I never blocked him because I hadn't touched that account in years. I logged in on a whim yesterday and found out he'd been spamming me the whole time. My son started crying, everything got chaotic, and I accidentally tapped accept. And somehow that turned into me wanting to marry him? I stepped back, grossed out. "Send me your details. I'll pay you back." Jason's face dropped. "Tessa Thomson, you were quick to take it, and now you're ditching me? A materialisti

PART 1 For two years, I lay in a coma. My body was helpless on a hospital bed, connected to tubes and machines that beeped endlessly. While I fought between life and death, my husband chose to look for another woman. Instead of struggling for my recovery, Roby decided to enjoy his life. He showered that woman with luxury and happiness... using my wealth. Just watch. I will make their hearts stop the moment I set foot again in my own palace. ** "Seriously, this is my house, Mr. Danil?" Natasya asked in disbelief.

I am going to get married to the director of ZIMA fashion house, Asher Williams, the handsome millionaire every woman wanted, but now he's stuck with me forever. Asher and I met when I went for my internship at the fashion house, and we didn't even start of on a good term, but now we're getting married. Our relationship wasn't a secret. Everyone in the country was aware. Most women in fact, didn't fail to hide their jealousy, as they were always writing me off in his comments or telling Asher that he deserves a much better woman, my step sister included. I picked up my phone, took a picture of myself, and I uploaded it with the caption 'Off to steal Asher's last name'.

One woman, dressed in a Fendi wrap, tilted her head back and cackled. "A Toyota in the VIP lot ?Oh,. I suppose the 'elite' act was just a cover for her bigger mission—trying to play high-society while ordering this poor attendant around like a slave." "I am not acting!" I shrieked, my composure snapping. "I live in the Moretti Estate! My husband is Alec Kensington! We have more money in our offshore accounts than all of you combined! I am rich! Do you hear me? I am RICH!" I sounded like a lunatic, and I knew it. My designer sunglasses were sliding down my nose, and I was clutching the empty flute like a weapon.