Billionaire Brain Wave Reviews Novels & Stories

Darwin Dennis Gray as soon as their eyes met each other’s stare. “Let’s go to the car. I’ll take you home.” He was the one to break the deafening silence. Minerva could have drowned her lips in his if he didn’t speak. ‘Damn, Minerva! Why are you thinking such things about him!’ She scolds herself through thoughts. Thank God, Mr. Billionaire here is not a mind reader. Because if he is, she would totally be embarrassed of him knowing that she had been imagining being entered and come by the one and only Darwin Gray.

Meet Marie Rodrigo. 22-year-old girl born and raised in Texas who moved to New York after High School. Works as the CEO's assistant at Alan Establishment. Has been working at Alan Establishment for a year now and loves her job. Meet Karter Allan. 33-year-old man, the youngest self-made billionaire in America. Owner and Founder of Allan Establishment. Known for being somewhat of a playboy and a cruel boss. What happens when Marie has an encounter with her big bad boss Karter? Will Karter start to feel attracted to Marie, can Marie break down his walls and find out why he has such trouble committing? Read The Billionaire to find out.

I should not be here staring at the faces of four very handsome, deadly, billlnaires. Grandma cleared her throat, Royan grinned, I averted my gaze focusing on grandma. "The billonaire award party, you know as usual how it is" "Who won, is it the usual? Royan asked. " Yes, Eth won the trophy again" "I knew it" Royan's eyes danced with amusement. Ethan's face was blank as usual, Maxton chuckled, raising his hands. I could see the outline of his tattoo, "Congrats Ethan" he smiled.

A gasp hung in between my chest and my throat, coming out as a nasty squeal that sent them both looking in my direction. Asher White. Asher Fucking White! My brain refused to work, and neither did my nerves. My mouth hung open as I bored my eyes into the man before me, his lips curving into a friendly smile. Everything else blurred, making him the center of my admiration. The biggest, youngest, and most successful businessman in the whole of the USA stood before me, and I tried not to die. Actually, I thought I was dead, but my sights still worked, surprisingly. My tongue wouldn't make words, and neither did my body move. I was way too stunned to do anything.

But he's no gonzo inventor–he's Maurice Hart, head of Research and Development for Neuroworks, a trillion-dollar tech titan. Now this human is sitting in front of me, claiming he’s invented a collar–a fucking collar–that will stop a wolf from shifting. It allegedly works by disrupting electrical impulses in the brain. He’s explaining all this to me very excitedly, so pleased with himself. Maurice hands me the silver collar. It doesn’t look like a totally janky piece of shit, unfortunately. It’s smooth and cold and looks legit. “Let’s take it for a test drive,” I say.

The texture was peculiar, almost organic, as if the paper itself had been grown rather than manufactured. "Sophia, I’ve looked into it," Jake’s voice crackled through the speakers, carrying a rare hint of exhaustion that suggested he hadn’t slept in days. "The so-called 'Harris Estate Trust' handles tens of billions of dollars in annual turnover. But they don't invest in real estate or the internet. They invest in only one field: neural restructuring under extreme human stress."

I plucked the phone from her hand, narrowed my eyes at the video playing. Good visuals, futuristic music, narration that promised a revolution—Percy’s company was unveiling some kind of brain–computer interface technology. The comment section scrolled at the bottom of the screen, filled with gasps of awe and praise. My lips twisted. I chuckled. Then the chuckle grew into laughter—loud laughter.

A man this drunk shouldn't be holding the future of his company. "It’s a neural regenerator," he continued, his eyes glazed with a mix of lust and self-importance. "My competitors are still trying to figure out how to stop the degeneration. We’re not stopping it. We’re reversing it. Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s, spinal trauma... this stuff fixes the wiring. It rebuilds the brain from the inside out." "Sounds dangerous," I said, feigning a shiver. I moved closer, letting my perfume distract him from the way my eyes tracked the canister. "If it's that powerful, shouldn't it be in a safe?"

Emily continued. Dune's voice carried a note of accomplishment. "Yes, Miss Emily. During sleep mode, we've been showing Alex different simulations to analyze his brainwave changes. For example, when exposed to a simulation of a high-stress environment, his beta waves increase dramatically, indicating heightened alertness and cognitive function. Conversely, in simulations involving peaceful, natural settings, his alpha waves become more pronounced, suggesting relaxation and a preparatory state for morphing.

This was it—the chance I had been waiting for to showcase my tech wizardry and snag that sweet, sweet prize money. Because of my tutoring business, I had created a unique tutorial app. It’s called BrainBoost. Ever wished you had a magical genie to help you with algebra, history, or even Shakespearean English? Well, BrainBoost is the next best thing! It's like having a pocket-sized tutor who never gets tired, never rolls their eyes at your questions, and never accidentally falls asleep during a study session (unlike some humans we know).