Books Millionaires Read Novels & Stories

Their titles are; "Mr. Billionaire wants me Back" Which will be in both a mobo reader and a good novel And "His perfect Dare". Which will be available exclusively at a good novel. Thanks so much, for all the love. Please keep reading, liking, voting, and commenting but please only positive comments, not violent comments.

It suddenly made sense as to why Redmont couldn’t let things go. Millions of dollars are nothing to sneeze at even in today’s day and age, with billionaires running Wallstreet. The difference was that Redmont wouldn’t want to have it known that some nobody conned him out of seven million. He wanted to teach her and anyone who ever tried to fuck with him again a lesson.

“Is that all you rich assholes ever think of? Throwing your damn money on whatever you deem attainable? Whatever you think has a price tag?” I knew I was stepping on shaky ground, but I couldn’t help myself. I had no idea how one dealt with a billionaire like this Mr. J. Maxwell. I knew suddenly and with trepidation, however, that I was doing it wrong the moment I saw the dark look in his eyes and the stern expression on his handsome features.

But my eyes wandered briefly over the newspapers and newer magazines the stand owner was getting out for the day. A gasp pulled itself from my lips and vanished in the air. I reached out and grabbed the magazine with Aleksander's face on the front. Youngest millionaire in New York City. My heart dropped through the bottom of my chest as I read the words. "You buying a copy, sweet heart?" The stand owner drawled in a heavy brooklyn accent. Then his eyes wandered over my face and whipped back to the older magazine cover I was splayed across. "Whoa, sign a copy of this for me and you can take this one for no charge."

“Girl! Do you mean to tell me you were that girl in the paper with that hot-as-hell man? The sexiest billionaire alive?” “Um, yes?” My reply came out as a question. “Oh my goodness!” She shrieked, getting an irritated glare from some passersby. “Oh my goodness!” She said in a more quiet voice. “No wonder Dylan bought those magazines. I’ve always thought it was weird that he was suddenly interested in reading magazines when he never used to do—how girl? Just how did you cop a man like that? Just a few weeks ago, I was sure you weren’t seeing him, and now? Now you’re hanging out with a ducking billionaire. Do you even know what that means?” She asked and then went ahead to answer the question

“She’ll probably spend the whole holiday in here if you let her.” I walked the aisles slowly, trailing my fingers over the books. Classics. Thrillers. A whole section of contemporary romance—Mirabel’s doing, mostly. She’d started collecting them in high school, said they were “escapist but smart.” I’d never read them. Too many happy endings. Too much hope wrapped in pretty words. I pulled one down at random. Dark cover, brooding man in a suit, and title written in gold foil: Claimed by the Billionaire. I snorted softly, then slid it back.

“Wow. You do know how to make a woman feel special. It has no doubt come as a surprise that you haven’t been able to find a wife of your own, prince charming.” The sarcasm was very evident in my statement, as I looked at him. He was still laughing now as the whole situation seemed to amuse him. “Good to see that you have managed to find the humor in the situation.” He said, I folded my arms, as my mind tried to keep up with everything. One year. That was three hundred and sixty five days, at the end of which I would have Two million dollars.

He clicked on it and read the context of the message. "Give them all the money you have. They know about your secret and wouldn't hesitate to report you. I hope you understand that I'm doing this for your good, from your dearest Mother: Maggie." Collins read out loud in disbelief. He couldn't believe that Maggie would stoop so low. She knew that they had just gotten the complete money for the house rent, and they were supposed to pay it tomorrow, and she did that. Collins walked to the kitchen, opened the cabinet, and took out a cereal box where he hid the money. He handed everything to the goons expecting them to leave, but instead, they started breaking down everything in the house.

I stood, already dismissing the conversation. And his voice stopped me. “Four hundred billion dollars.” He leaned forward. “I’ll give you four hundred billion dollars if you find him. And if you do it in two days, I’ll transfer fifty percent of my assets to you.” “I have all the money I need Vladimir. What makes your four hundred billion so different?” Vladimir’s grin widened. “My assets, Hilton. My assets make it all different.” Liam was silent beside me, waiting. “And you have a photo of this man?” I asked, taking over yet another desperate man's company was interesting.

Rather than accept, the man narrows his eyes, and I know he’s one of those rich entitled assholes who thinks he’s supposed to have anything in the world. “$100,000” he says smugly, and everyone gasps. A few years ago, I would have gasped too. Now, I only narrow my eyes back. That's the problem with having such an open invite, I wasn't able to sift out the prideful millionaires. “Sir, I said-” A deep voice rises at the back, “I’ll give you 1 million for it.” The hairs on the back of my neck rise. I know that voice, more than I know my own soul.