Novel & Cerita Bride Of Mr Billion

So that's why her father seemed stressed, and why he agreed to the marriage - his business troubles. "And the price of his help is marrying me?" She wanted to laugh but she stop herself. "Yes," her father replied curtly. Her fists clenched again. She should be immune to the pain by now, having felt unloved since she was young, but she couldn't help it. Why did she have to be sacrificed to save his assets? A pang struck her heart. "And you have no choice but to marry him, Laura. Otherwise, you'll lose Miller Estate." "What?!"

“You’re maybe thirty-one at most, and you’re one of the most handsome and charming bachelors in the country. You’re a long way from ancient.” “You think I’m handsome and charming?” Now he was getting somewhere. She rolled her eyes and smirked. “I’m not the only one.” “But you’re the only one I’m asking to marry me. I’ve made my billions. Now, I want to make a family.” Her eyes widened and she edged back, pulling her hand away in the process. “Easy, tiger. You just jumped from marriage to babies in sixty seconds flat. Don’t you think we should take some time to talk this through?”

Blaqk would openly compete with his son, who has way more money than him; he literally signed up for failure. “Seventy million!” He shouted angrily, and Mrs. Blaqk also began to look annoyed, and her dignity slowly began to crack. “Seventy million, one dollar,” Ryan chuckled, and the venue erupted once again in murmurs and chatter. It was really a lively atmosphere. “One hundred million,” Mr. Blaqk said. “One hundred and one million" “Two hundred million” “Two hundred million and one.” The bidding went on until it reached... “nine hundred and ninety-nine million dollars.” As Ryan said this, everyone began to look at him with shock—almost one billion dollars just for a bracelet.

“Yeah you should.” Mr. Hill’s response wounded Lizzie deeply but she had to conceal it, afterall, he did buy her for 25 million dollars.

She said as he kissed her and fingered her at the same time, making her run wild. "Like you want me to do every single thing with you." He said. "I do." She said, holding unto him. "Then be a good girl and say my name." He said in a Husky voice. "Adrian, please....." She moaned as she dug deeper her into his hair. "That's my billion dollar girl." He kissed her jaw some more, exposing purple marks that he marked as his territory. He finger fucked her till she orgasmed all over his fingers.

Yet. "You will be! After tonight! Because tonight, my cold grandson is finally going to marry you properly!" Grandma clapped. Elise froze, holding white roses. "Properly? But we already married... at Chelsea Registry Office... by mistake..." "That was mistake marriage! With plastic folder and Zara dress! My grandson is worth £98 billion! He cannot have mistake marriage! He needs real wedding! Tonight! At Claridge's Ballroom! I booked it! 500 people! Princesses! And you will wear Dior! Real Dior! Not Zara!"

“Wouldn’t what? Get caught up in something over his head? Because that is exactly what has occurred from where I am standing. Leila swallowed hard. Tunde had always been smart, but he was also young, ambitious, and sometimes reckless. If he had gotten mixed up with the wrong people… No. She wouldn’t let him go down for this. She forced herself to meet Adrian’s gaze. “What do you want?” Adrian leaned back against the bar, considering her. Then he said, casually—too casually— “Marry me.” Leila looked up. “What?” His smirk didn’t waver. "Wedding me." Laughter bubbled up in her chest, sharp and incredulous. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

Adrian’s phone buzzed. Unknown number. His grip tightened as he answered. “Where is she?” A low chuckle came through the speaker. “Straight to the point. I like that.” Adrian’s patience was razor-thin. “I won’t ask again.” The man on the other end sighed. “If you want your precious bride back, you’ll have to pay. One hundred million dollars. Cash. No police, no games.” Adrian’s jaw clenched. “And if I refuse?”

Dozens of no⁠tificat⁠ions, messages⁠, missed calls. And one headline that made my stomach‌ drop. “‍The Billionaire’s Bride: Love, Lies, and Leverag⁠e?⁠” T‌he article‌ had my n⁠ame in bol‍d letters. It‍ c⁠alled me a myster⁠y‍ wo‌man with no social backgr‌ound, a po‌ssible p‌aw‌n in a strateg‍ic‍ marriage, and worst o‌f all — it ques‌tioned if I h⁠ad “married into luxu‍ry” fo‌r money.

((RYMALENE)) Bestie, you’re so expensive for 30 freaking million! I really couldn’t do anything. And the ugly cheap man who looked like he stopped caring for himself when he first saw his reflection in the mirror, was jumping in joy as the highest bidder. Alright, bestie! I needed to get close to that man and ask for you as his gift for my wedding. Bestie… sorry. The bid for Sena was almost closed when… “1 Billion.”