Billionaire Novel Mr Draven Novels & Stories

Then, finally, he murmured, “Ms. Rivers.” Not a greeting. Just an acknowledgment. I leaned forward. “Thank you for agreeing to this meeting.” “You don’t sound thankful.” “I don’t waste words on things I don’t mean.” Something flickered in his eyes, amusement, maybe. “Good. I prefer honesty.” I flipped open my notebook. “You built an empire out of nothing, but your history is vague.” He took a slow sip of his drink. “Is it?” I tapped my pen against the paper. “There’s no clear record of your education, no past associations before your father Introduced you to Blackwood Enterprises fourteen years ago. And then, Nine years later, you disappeared.”

“What’s his name?” “I got his yearbook. Before he became Ivy Jones, the man was Ivan Millers, a college dropout taking information technology. His father died when he was three. He lived alone with his mother, who later married an alcoholic. When he turned eighteen, he left his home and mother behind with the alcoholic stepfather. His mother lost her job five years later when a company filed for bankruptcy and was bought by the new owner. She lost the house, her husband left her, and she lived in the shelter until she was stabbed to death.” “Jesus Christ. So, traumatic past, but that didn’t give him the liberty to hurt and kill people. Who bought the company?” I shouldn’t have asked because

Something that might sound dangerous to others, but it is just another day for them. I hear Draven following close behind me. I can feel his icy gaze watching my every movement. Drae is an expert swordsman, just like my father, but stronger and faster than my dad ever was. Drae has hunted many supernatural creatures over the years and defeated them with nothing but a scratch on his body. He moves like a ninja; every breath he takes and every movement he makes is utterly silent. And he wields a sword with the precision and accuracy of a strike of lightning. If Draven wanted to, he could kill me in less than a second and there would be nothing I could do about it. Luckily for me, I am not a da

I walk back toward the alley where I saw Draven this afternoon, my heart thumping against my ribs. I’m completely exposed. If he isn't here, I’m just a crazy woman wandering a foreign city at 1:00 AM. "You're late," a voice growls from the darkness. I spin around. Draven steps out from the shadow of a recessed doorway. He’s still wearing the dark hoodie, the fabric shielding his features, but the sheer breadth of his shoulders is unmistakable. "I found the file," I say, my breath pluming in the cold air. "I found everything. He paid off my ex's debts. He tracked me. Why did he do that, Draven? Why is a billionaire CEO playing god with my life?"

Draven said Lydia was listening to us while Celesty was on the phone. "He must have asked something for it?" Lydia said, pouring me a glass of water. A smile crept on my face when I saw Lydia involved in this type of conversation. One day I want Lyra to have this conversation with me. "He didn't specify anything." Draven said, I wanted to believe him. "He even came to the inauguration programme on his own and donated like fifty millions." Draven told us. I don't keep records of millionaires donating. The biggest donation a businessman can put up is by selling their products at a low price.

“Ah, Doctor Sanders I presume?” Draven said as he went to shake his hand. “Yes, we finally meet.” “I have to be quick, here on this piece of paper is the address of your new home and key. I need you to be here in two weeks from today at 10 AM. I have a pregnant wife who is almost six months along, so I need you to come and do a check up on our twins, I want to make sure that everything is all right.” “Yes of course, I also got you the blood you wanted.” “Good,….’ “WHAT? YOU BETRAYED ANDRE?” “Just like you betrayed Andros.” “I DID NOT BETRAY HIM……” “My darling wife go back into the kitchen and make some of that chamomile tea that you like so much. AND YOU WILL NOT SPEAK TO MY WIFE LIKE THAT I

“Your father is dead, Miss Cruz. The only thing keeping you alive… is my signature.” --- The ink was still wet on the contract when Ariella Cruz realized she had just signed her life away. The leather folder felt heavier than it should. Her hand trembled as she closed it, but she masked it with a calmness she’d spent years perfecting. Across from her sat Lucien Draven, the man whose name echoed through the darkest corridors of power. Billionaire. Arms dealer. Suspected murderer.

⸻ AT DRAVEN’S GLOBAL Evander was seen romancing a staff member in his office. He happened to be the manager at the firm because of hard work, but lately he hadn’t been coming to work because Delaney had been holding him hostage. Now he acted like he owned the place, coming to work anytime he wanted just because Alexander Draven was not always around. Evander had never met him in person. Alex had never appeared in magazines or been seen in meetings. He always sent people because he didn’t want attention. He lived like a common man in the city, and no one knew he was a secret billionaire.

CHAPTER 3 As Ryan drove up his driveway, almost expressionless as he usually is, his mind was a kaleidoscope of thoughts. His business and name has been under threat especially in recent years. He had inherited his father's large scale, world renowned brewery since he passed away about a decade ago. With his smarts, foresight and ruthlessness, Anderson breweries have attained higher heights than ever before; they are about to conquer the Eurasian front. But now a gap in his financial records had insinuated evidence of Tax fraud and money laundering. The board and the government have been on his back for the past two years. In the middle of this ,he's had to also deal with his divorce with Am

"Unfortunately I do, I've had the displeasure for the past few weeks of wading through your filth. I have the children you sold away into captivity by the way. By the end of tomorrow the whole world is going to know what you are not to worry." He struggled against his restraints and swore a blue streak. Demented fuck. I stood back and let him tire his old ass out. Funny, up close he didn't look like either of his personas. Not the great senator, nor the axis of evil. Instead he looked like a sixty five year old degenerate down on his luck.