Billionaire's Bunker Novels & Stories

Dim light gives way to bright white light, and rusty metal gives way to luxury furnishings. My jaw almost hinges open. From above, you'd never know men of Derek's calibre live below. But here inside, you can see no penny has been spared in making this underground bunker a home for the Elite. Plush carpets swallow my feet; daring golds line the wall. Chandeliers hang at an equal pace as we walk in tense silence.

Her voice was sharp with disbelief. “It was undervalued, structurally sound, and the only available property with adequate proximity for the current needs of Thorne Global,” Elias stated without looking up, underlining a clause with a pen that probably cost more than her car. “I need a base of operations in this town, Vivian. The hotel next door was fully booked, and I require a dedicated office space for my team and uninterrupted access to my son. I closed on it this morning.” Vivian threw her hands up. “You just bought an iconic landmark—a twenty-room hotel that’s been family-owned for fifty years—in twenty-four hours, all because you wanted to be closer to your kid?”

"It was on foreclosure! Prime real estate! Plus, I thought... you know, if the plane is broken, we could ride the deer? Tactical cavalry?" Silence stretched in the cold shed. "Tactical... cavalry," Ben repeated, staring at her. "They have antlers!" Hailey defended herself. "Sharp ones!" Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. "Hailey, you spent our first tranche of laundered money on a petting zoo?" "It has an underground bunker!" she blurted out. "The deed said 'Cold War Storage included'!" Jack paused. He exchanged a look with Marcus. Underground storage in this region usually meant one thing: old smuggling tunnels.

Moreau said and pressed a button on the table. “What? I'm fine sir. Elias...." “Does a great job, I know," he nodded to Elias in acknowledgement, “But I need you in tip-top shape in no time. Consider this my treat." The Bunker was code name for the private hospital Moreau owned which was responsible for treating his men injured during missions. It was fully equipped and all staff signed an NDA before being employed. But it was also located underground and cut off from the rest of the world. All communication had to go through an authorization system. All calls and messages were screened.

People didn’t speak unless necessary, and even then, only in low tones that carried the weariness of the past forty-eight hours. The road curved sharply, and then the forest began to fall away. There, nestled against the base of a granite slope, was the bunker. Sleek, fortified, and silent. It didn’t look like a shelter. It looked like a statement. Concrete and steel, half-swallowed by the earth, yet somehow commanding. As we drew closer, I could see the details: security towers positioned like teeth, hidden surveillance arrays embedded in the surrounding hills, and a central vault large enough to admit military vehicles.

By eight in the morning, the city didn't just know the truth—it was feasting on it. Lily and Dante were holed up in a secure bunker beneath a private estate in the foothills, a relic of Dante’s father’s paranoia that he had long ago dismissed as theatrical. Now, it was the only place in the country where they weren't being hunted by the authorities or the remnants of Donato’s cleanup crews. The bunker was filled with the flicker of high-definition screens, each one tuned to a different financial network. The sound was a cacophony of panicked anchors, frantic market analysts, and the rhythmic, soul-crushing toll of the stock ticker.

I asked coldly. The taller guard swallowed hard. “Gym level, boss.” My expression darkened. “Alone?” A brief hesitation. “No, boss.” The wrong answer. I moved before he could say another word. The underground bunker stretched endlessly beneath the city, steel corridors, surveillance cameras, biometric locks, hidden weapons caches built into the walls. It was one of the most secure places I owned. And still, it felt unsafe now that Elara existed inside it. That was the problem.

"Or we move to appoint Denis as the interim head of Vane Holdings." I didn’t respond. Boiling, I took long strides out of the room before I would smash someone’s head against a wall. My father had built this empire, and I had expanded it into a global titan, yet I was being held hostage by those that hadn’t labored for it in the slightest. I needed to clear my head before I broke something, or someone.

“She threatened exposure.” “And so she died.” His silence answered. “It was chaos,” he said defensively. “It wasn’t planned.” “But it was contained,” she replied. His jaw tightened. “Yes.” “How?” He hesitated. “The basement.” She waited. “There’s a chamber beneath the original cellar,” he said quietly. “Soundproofed. Renovated repeatedly.” Renovated. Nearly one million dollars’ worth. “She fell,” he added quickly. “There was blood. Billy panicked.” “And Serena?” she asked.

He answered, looked at me again and smiled. I smiled back, then I looked at the crackling wood again. "By now tomorrow, we should have arrived at your dad's," I looked up at him again, "Yeah," "You're going to find out why he built that underground facility, right?!" "Yes. I wasn't expecting him to have such a thing. I mean, I know he's super rich, and all that, and I know that rich men usually have underground bunkers, but that's more than just a bunker. It's like...he was preparing for—"