After I Died A Tycoon Went Crazy Novels & Stories

Unexpectedly, the voice on the other end sneered, "Did your mom put you up to this? Using her own daughter like a pawn? What an unfaithful woman! She’s already with your dad, yet still trying to rekindle things with me?" …… I had never left Emma’s side after my death, always watching over my lonely and helpless daughter. When she was just a year old, my father, who had been taking care of her with me, died in a car accident. Three months later, I took our dog, Snowball, for treatment. However, the hyperbaric chamber at the veterinary clinic exploded, killing me instantly. After I died, my childhood friend, Russel York, took Emma in and raised her. When Emma turned five, Russel was driving he

He replied still laughing. “You bastard” Omar’s voice calls out. I’m too distracted by Goodman’s words to notice Omar side step me and take a swing at Goodman. The punch connects with goodman jaw and he stumbles back. The deafening sound of Debby’s scream echoes through my office and threaten to shatter my windows. When did my life become this horrible chaos? I no longer had power in my company, my own company because of my father. What was I going to do? Dragging Omar back by the collar of his suit, I stand infront of him again, creating distance between the two men.

Bye, Lins," Jennifer said as she ended the call. She dropped the phone on her bed and stood up. She went over to the restroom area. DEAR READERS, I must inform you that the journey of this Book one has come to a close. The captivating tale of THE TYRANT BILLIONAIRE has reached its end, but fear not, this is only the beginning. Book Two is around the corner. It is going to be captivating and worth your time. I am currently working on the book two and everything is going to be ready before next month. Stay tuned for the book two. Thanks alot

sometimes he thought he was the real Mistress of Meyer Mansion. Nickolas Meyer was a tycoon with shattering skeletons in his closets that no one knew about, James made sure that no one ever will. the road to the top hadn't been paved with roses and sweet aroma. with James silently by his side, he had soured to the top like an Eagle. and he preferred it that way. James glanced at the metal watch on the wall. it was after eleven pm. he needed some sleep if he was going to function properly. he knew what sweet dreams he will be having that night.

I tell my son and got engaged in talking to him for the whole ride until I received a text message that almost drained the color from my face and made me shiver out of fear. "No, this can't be! He can't be alive. This can't be." I mumbled before running out of the car in a hurry towards my presidential suite and locking myself in with trembling hands. This is impossible. He died. I watched him die with my own eyes then how could it be possible?

In the match, Nathan was battling against someone named Michy. The fight was intense and fierce, which attracted many players to the scene. The two fought mercilessly for thirty minutes before it was over. A scream was heard and a player had died. The system prompted 'Nathan was killed'. Upon seeing that, everyone could not believe their eyes. Nathan had died... Nathan, the godly and undefeated character, had actually died? Where did Michy come from? Not long after, people were talking about this battle all over the world.

"You're in deep shit Tyler... A very deep one." "Why did you do that?!" "You're going to kill me anyway... Why not make things more difficult for you... Huh?" I cocked the gun. "I taught you better than this, Tyler." "I know that, but guess what? Experience taught me better, and there's one thing I learnt very well from experience... Whatever is Dead, stays dead." Without thinking further, I pulled the trigger, connecting my bullets with his face, blood splattered the wall behind him as he fell straight to the ground.

I refused to accept it, but their response haunts me to this day. "Dead is dead," George had shrugged, while Eleanor examined her manicure. "It was just a bastard anyway. You should be thanking us for cleaning up your mess." A mess. That's what they called my child. As if my baby had been nothing more than an inconvenience to be disposed of. I wiped a stray tear from my cheek. I would definitely uncover the truth of that year, and no one would escape then. My emotional outburst had left me drained. The loud growl from my stomach broke the silence of the room. I pressed my hand against my abdomen, realizing I hadn't actually eaten anything substantial.

My parents listened to those desperate calls with nothing but irritation, dismissing each one as theatrics, an inconvenience unworthy of their time. My brother snarled over the phone, “Then just die already!” So I did. In the end, it was my three-year-old daughter who made the final call—using her smartwatch to video my mother, live-streaming the freezer where my severed head lay. Now, my spirit watches from above as they all, one by one, begin to unravel. ... I knew I was finally going to die. So I called my family. My mom answered. She was in the middle of a face mask, her voice muffled and edged with impatience. “What is it now, Elena?”

"What are you doing?" Dad looked at Mom in disbelief. But Mom only let out a cold laugh, no hesitation in her eyes as she plunged the syringe deep into Denise's back and yanked it out just as swiftly. Watching Denise grimace and wince in pain, Dad's face instantly turned crimson with fury. "Nicole, have you lost your mind? Do you even realize what you've done?" His voice cracked. Mom let out a bitter, tearful laugh. "Yes, I've lost my mind. I lost it the day Mary died."