Billionaire Who Lives In Mei Queen Castle นิยาย & เรื่องราว

The screen shifted to a photograph. The same man. The same sharp jaw. The same dark, unreadable eyes. The same presence that had made her spine tighten with awareness. Her neighbor. The billionaire next door. Zayrielle stared, her heart pounding. This wasn’t just wealth. This was power—the kind that crushed people without ever touching them. The elevator dinged. She stepped inside, her thoughts racing. So that’s who he was. Which meant the men in suits. The tension. The warning. It all made sense.

"It's yours now. Everything but the security server is gone. I even packed my suits. I won't be needing them." Vivian accepted the glass of dark red wine. "Thank you, Elias. For all of it. For believing in a life that wasn't built for a billionaire." "I believe in you," he corrected, turning his body toward her. "I have no idea how to run a sustainable lifestyle. My knowledge stops at maximizing profit and acquisition. I am a retired CEO with no marketable skills outside of global finance." A genuine smile touched his lips. "I'm going to need you to teach me how to exist in a world where things matter more than money."

Both smiling like they’d won something. She unfolded the letter with shaking fingers. My darling girl, If you’re reading this, I’m gone and you’re hurting. I’m sorry. I lied about everything. The paintings were a cover. I built VossTech from nothing the AI that predicts market crashes before they happen.51% is yours. But the board will fight you. There’s a clause: you must marry within one year of my death, or the shares revert to them. The man in the photo is Victor Kane. He’ll help. Trust him and do whatever you can to Protect what’s yours.

The click of the front door closing broke the silence of Miguel’s house. I heard the vehicle’s engine drive away, and a strange chill went up the back of my neck. I was alone in the house of a man I barely knew. I sat on the genuine leather sofa in the living room, which looked like it came out of a magazine, and felt as if I were in my old home, where I lived with my parents for years. I had spent the last few days being assaulted, which, ironically, threw me into the arms of a man whose life was a locked book. Miguel was careful, intense, and, now I knew, rich. A billionaire.

He was large, and had accumulated so much authority over decades. The officer at the front desk looked up. “Mr. Kyle?” The sheriff muttered as soon as he walked in. Kyle was also a billionaire, a bigger man than most, in bed with several politicians, yet maintaining the front of an innocent, hardworking civilian. “Sir, I… we weren't expecting you…” He stuttered. “Where is my daughter being held?! I want to see my daughter!” Kyle snapped in the middle of the station. “Sorry, Mr. Kyle. Erm… erm… who exactly is your daughter and what would she be doing here?” The sheriff asked, almost shaking.

The society pages had been speculating for months. “Marcus Chen, the billionaire tech mogul, has found love at last,” the headlines read. “But who is the mysterious woman who captured his heart?” Jenna, it turned out, was not mysterious at all. She was a kindergarten teacher from New Jersey, a divorced mother of two, a woman who had never owned a pair of designer shoes and didn't care to. She was also, by all accounts, one of the kindest people Victoria had ever met.

The tension between them softened, replaced by something deeper—admiration, awe. “Wait…” Jake’s eyes widened. “Is the millionaire the owner?” Robert smiled faintly. “No, son. The project belongs to a young man named Ronald Williams, a billionaire. He’s the son of Richard William.” Jake’s grin spread slowly. “A billionaire? Wow! Dad, you’re getting bigger. Very soon… you’ll be up there with the millionaires like Mr Richard Blake.” Robert chuckled, the weariness in his face giving way to pride. “Yes, son.”

He was the kind of person that didn't show off. He preferred to keep a low profile and did his things discreetly. “Look Mykel,” I began. “My husband owns properties. Houses, lands, name them. He has cars. He owns a McLaren F1, a Rolls Royce, a BMW, and a Bugatti. He's already a millionaire and will be a billionaire in his thirties. Do you know how many contracts he bags? He has capital!!” Fuck I was pissed. Fucking pissed. No one got to insult Malcolm and walk away, not especially when the person was a nobody like Mykel.

“But she's now into someone more handsome and wealthy than I am. Mark Adrian, you can G****e about him. He's a billionaire–” “Gosh!” The queen exclaimed. “Mark Adrian?” All of them turned to glance at each other and turned slowly to face Cameron. It looked like they knew what he didn't know. “What's that?” Cameron asked. “You seem to know him already? He's the owner of the hospital she's working at.”

She tucks a strand of her dark brown hair behind her ear, crossing over to the couch. “I told you nothing happened!” I lie. I gravitate to the kitchen after drinking and rinse the mug, putting it on the rack. “Seriously, flower girl! You got one chance to shag a billionaire, and you rejected it? Do you know how many girls would kill themselves for a night with him?” “What do you know about him?” I ask. Maisie shrugs. “Not much, but rumors have it he owns the biggest estate in L.A and runs a big empire.”