Billionaire Night Routine Novels & Stories

“A millennial incubus, spends his days pretending to be a billionaire heir?” “Yes.” “Attending galas? Charity events? Lunches with New York’s elite?” “Unfortunately, yes. Philanthropy is boring, but it’s good cover.” “And at night you hunt in strip clubs?” “The irony is not lost on me.” She shook her head, still smiling. She served herself more coffee, and the gesture was so casual, so domestic, that for a moment I could pretend we were two normal people having breakfast on a Saturday morning. But the next question shattered the illusion.

"The billionaire? What's he doing here?" "Charity event in the west wing. Though after that scandal with his ex-fiancée, I'm surprised he shows his face anywhere." "I heard he's looking for a new girlfriend. Someone to clean up his image." "A fake girlfriend, you mean. Like those Hollywood contracts." My feet stopped moving. Brett Graham. Everyone knew that name. The tech mogul who'd built an empire from nothing, worth billions, cold as ice and twice as ruthless. "How much do you think someone would pay for that kind of arrangement?" the first nurse asked.

" I mean, How can someone be so secreting? There is nothing, Apart from his success there is absolutely nothing. No family, no siblings, no friends, no wife, not even a bimbo. Does he control the media? The only pictures I could find of him were with the ones he met for business or functions of charity or volunteer work. Nothing unusual. Not even a single bit. No one has ever seen him outside his villa. Wait? Villa? Well, I guess this is what you expect from a Billionaire. I shut my laptop as I look at the time. "Sh*t, I still have to pick up an outfit for the Company's 25th-anniversary celebration". I guess I'll just think about it later, I need some sleep right now. If I manage to do that.

Everything looked ordinary to him, it's not like the sophisticated charity party he do attend, or the expensive clothes most people wear to dinner parties, no one was trying to be on their best behavior, with fake smiles plastered on their faces, all dolled up with makeups of every color. Everything and everyone looks normal, too normal for a billionaire, in most cases, tens of women would have noticed him, walking seductively towards him, flirty lips and eyes, sliding their numbers in his suit, he was a man after all, he had taken handful of them who catches his eyes to bed, discarding them as usual.

Chapter Fourteen: The Billionaire's Fall A cold focus settled over Zhedya as he reviewed the file. The target: Nicholas Chan. A billionaire on the surface, a monster underneath. The man secretly funded a human trafficking ring that preyed on young girls. Zhedya felt no pity, only a dark, thrilling excitement. He loved taking out predators. He knew Chan’s schedule, his habits, his favorite hotel. The RuRohal skyscraper, where the billionaire was hosting a secret, after-hours gathering. Tonight, the party would end.

She sighs and glances at her phone. “Well, she’s three minutes away. Why don’t you go get ready and I’ll send her in when she gets here?” One of the great things about being a billionaire is that you can do the most absurd things to your home. Like for instance, having a spa installed, or a bowling alley, or a gym… …or a massage room. I strip down to my briefs, turn on some Mozart, and get on the table. Despite Sheryl’s reassurance, I’m skeptical. To say the least.

Everette stands up hastily and hugs him tightly. Jim chuckles and rubs her. "You've missed me so much already." He says to her as Everette disengages from the hug. "How have you been doing?" Everette asks him. "I've been good. Stressed out from the wedding preparations but I know it will all pay out." He replies to her. "So what do you have to tell me?" Jim asks and moves away from her, taking off his clothes. "The bachelorette party." Everette says to get his attention. She should just say whatever she wants to say and relieve her mind from the guilt and fear she's having.

"Now who's being stupid? You can't shoot a United States senator they'd lock you up and throw away the key." "What do you think Gideon and his guys are gonna do to them, invite them out for a beer?" " I don't wanna think about it." "So don't, you want some ice cream?" "Ice cream, he has ice cream in here?" "Did you look in the refrigerator? Dude was planning for Armageddon." "Yeah, but ice cream wouldn't it go bad?" "Who knows what goes on in the head of the rich and crazy? I'm sure he has it restocked every few months or something."

How could I explain to her that what Max and I experienced last night was genuine and didn't involve any discussion about money? I took a deep breath and released it before I spoke. "Brenda. I have something to tell you." "OK so spill it." "We didn't just talk." The other end went silent. "Brenda, are you still there?" "Y-yes, I'm here," she quipped. "So hold on, are you saying you and Mr. Maximilian McTavish, renowned billionaire, played whack-a-hole beneath the sheets?" She squealed. I remember now where I recognized his name from. He was the CEO of M&M Finance. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that I slept with a world-famous billionaire without realizing it.

“It better be. I’m going to get going. We’ve got a long couple weeks ahead of us, and I want to enjoy one last quiet night.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You mean you’re going to go home and hang out with your dog.” I grinned. “Maybe.” He sighed, shaking his head. “You’re a nerd. You’re the only single billionaire I know who prefers to hang out at home with his dog. You should be out living it up, looking for a sexy Mrs. Billionaire. You’re Trent Gilroy, war hero turned billionaire. Everyone wants to know you. You could have any woman you want.”