Novel & Cerita Blind Billionaire

“You were on my side before you were trapped in his system. You were his before you were anyone’s asset. Now you’re… something else. If you want out, really out, you can’t just burn his house down emotionally. You have to gut his systems. And you can’t do that alone.” “I have Mila,” I said. “I have the serpent card. I have access to his files.” “You have pieces,” he said. “He has infrastructure. People. Money. Contracts. And a lot fewer rules than you think.” “And you?” I asked. “Where do you fit in this, besides hacking my elevator and almost killing a valet with your bike?” He smiled faintly. “I’m the one who knows his blind spots,” he said. “Because I helped build a few of them. I’m also

Damien Vale—stone-hearted billionaire, man who claimed he couldn’t feel—had just admitted the unthinkable. And that made him more dangerous than ever.

Now where the hell is my son? I ignored his cutting words. I tried not to think about how I had given myself to this man who I thought was different, when he was in fact no different from other men. He was just another lying man, like all the rest, who had deceived my mother, ruining her reputation. Blaine was a selfish billionaire who would do anything to get a woman in his bed, and then dump her afterward. “Answer me, Ariel.” He said, through gritted teeth, closing the distance between us.

By the time we screeched into the hospital driveway, I knew I had him exactly where I wanted him. He jumped out of the car first and practically yanked my door open. Before I could “try” to stand, he scooped me up into his arms. Oh, yes. Every nurse coming out of that building saw it, and every patient in the waiting room saw it. Every doctor passing by saw it. Isabelle Blake being carried by Damian Blackwood, New York’s most private, most powerful, most emotionally constipated billionaire. I wanted to fan myself. The staff recognised him immediately. They always did. Money talks, but damn his money screams.

"Or I would take all your businesses, houses, and cars if you disobeyed." I threw my phone through the wall after reading her intimidation towards me. She's a crazy knucklehead mother! I leaned back in my chair and stared at the broken glass of the phone scattered on the floor, realizing something was important in there. "Damn! The picture." I immediately stood up, picked it up, and tried to open it. But it's too late; it's broken. I sat down and sighed. This isn't what I expected to happen. Now, Brandon Rhey, the youngest billionaire of the Wilsome family, has been obligated to comply with the legacy of the family by marrying a woman who is as wealthy as we are.

. If she pushed back against me now, she would surely find herself in the spotlight for all the wrong reasons. Scarlett gritted her teeth. "Fine, ten million it is." She couldn't believe that anyone would be willing to pay more for this damaged item. As Scarlett made her bid, a few paddles were surprisingly raised in response. "Fifteen million!" "Twenty million!" "Thirty million!" ... In the blink of an eye, the stamp had reached fifty million. Scarlett, for the sake of her pride, had to keep bidding, though her fingers trembled like leaves in the wind. I smirked. It seemed there were indeed people willing to pay a hefty price for this worthless piece of junk. I turned to the man beside me,

The kind of voice that had never needed to be loud to make people listen. I took a breath and walked inside. He was sitting behind a large desk. Dark hair. Strong jaw. Exactly as unforgiving as the photographs had suggested. And his eyes— Pale grey. Almost silver. They were pointed somewhere just past my shoulder. Not at me. Through me. For a second, I didn’t understand. Then I remembered. He couldn’t see me. I’d read about the accident. I’d known he was blind. But knowing something on a screen and standing three feet away from the person it had happened to were two completely different things.

Now I'm wearing his dead wife's name like a second skin, and the walls of this glittering cage are closing in. The man beside me shifts in his chair. Alexander Blackwood. A billionaire and a widower. He is the reason I'm trapped in this lie. He doesn't look at me. He's staring at his own glass, jaw tight, eyes distant. He's been like this all night. Like he's bracing for something. Maybe he should be. I turn back to the crowd. Julian is gone. My fingers tighten around the champagne flute. Let me take you back to where this started. Back when I was invisible. Back before I knew I had a sister. Back before I learned that some families bury their secrets so deep, they forget they're standing on

Clarke gave Derek a hostile glare at the sound of the question,his nostrils flare outwards with rage as anger thrummed through his veins. “Who is Robertson Audrey??!!”he asked while marinating in resentment. “Would you let go of my neck let me speak??” Derek whose skin was flushed in red and had veins protrude his forehead pleaded under his breath. Clarke lets go of him when he felt Derek's life leaving him. “Fucking hell!!" Derek squeals in pain as he hold his neck as though preventing it from falling. “Baby.... Robertson Audrey is a fucking blackmailer” Clarke turns away from him in resentment...he wasn't falling for his lies.

Until my remaining dads stopped supporting my privileged ass because I never let them have me when I had already turned eighteen, so I resorted to swindling men during meet-ups. That was when I met Dylan. I had scammed him into thinking we'd end in bed, but I laced his drink and transferred his money to a stolen account. Then he looked for me and found me barely making a living after I stole all his money, which in turn was stolen from me by my gambling addict father the moment I had withdrawn everything. I didn't know how and why Dylan did, but he fell for me out of the blue, and instead of taking me to the cops, he said he'd support me through college without expecting anything.