Chetan Bhagat New Novel Novels & Stories

And soon. Under the dim light of my car’s cabin, I pulled out a new burner phone. This one was fresh, purchased solely for this operation. Logging into a newly created blog with fake details, I typed out an article with clinical detachment. The headline was sensational, the tone inflammatory. I linked Roy’s death to Emmanuella, weaving a narrative of betrayal and rage. According to my fabricated story, she was the jealous lover who had struck back after a heated argument the night before.

He is bragging in the chat about how he'd throw them out without giving them a single penny; he is even fantasizing about how he would treat them if they came to beg him for anything, how he would send his guards to throw them out into the street because that is where they belong. By the time Mrs. Martin finishes reading the conversation, her eyes are filled with tears; she is crying not because of what he said, but because she never believed he would treat them that way. If anyone had told her the boy could say all this, she would have doubted the person, but look how it played out. The boy whom she took in is fantasizing about how he'd throw her and her daughters out of their own home so h

"This will be your room for the duration of your stay. I need to get back to work, but I'll be back after five tonight.” I nodded, watching as he turned and disappeared out of the room. He was probably headed back to his office. I found the bathroom and ran a steamy bath for myself, and only when I was settled into the bubbles did I finally feel safe. It was probably stupid. I knew Cassian even less than I'd known David and look how that had turned out. I had ended up married to the son of one of the biggest crime families in New York. And Cassian was their enemy. Why was I sure he was any better? I didn't have an answer why I felt safe in his bathtub, but as I washed my hair and relaxed int

And once I did, every single one of them came apart like cheap fabric. One guy had been quietly involved in a corporate espionage scandal over a fifteen-thousand-dollar pen. A pen. Another woman ran a so-called “motivational retreat” that somehow ended with multiple lawsuits about goat therapy. And the last candidate of the day seemed like a normal, respectable man until I found his private blog claiming billionaires live in underwater cities. By the end of it, I was done. I came home, dropped my phone on the table, and decided I wanted something different tonight. Something I could control. Something that didn’t irritate me. That’s when I pulled up Velvet’s page.

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I bowed down a little. I thought he'd scold me for being unprofessional, but he just laughed at it. I lifted my head to look up at him, and I saw him shaking his head while laughing. "It's okay, dear. Pennelope, right?" I nodded nervously. "My son, Ethan, will be the next CEO of this company and soon to be the President of the whole Falcon Empire," he said, smiling a little. I notice something in his eyes... loneliness? "At first, he doesn't want all of our companies and businesses. He wants to start all on his own, you know. He doesn't want our help."

He was old enough to understand that. “Okay,” he muttered and exhaled heavily before shutting his eyes. ~ Bryan stared at his breakfast as different thoughts kept popping into his head. All he wants to do is talk to Alessa. He has questions, lots of questions. How did she manage to survive while carrying twins? How did she become so rich when all she did was beg on the street for food? “Billionaire’s ex-wife returns after six years with twins and he couldn't get his eyes off her. Is the billionaire having regrets?” A voice said.

Talking to her always had that effect on him. It had been six years since they had met again at business school, and yet every conversation still left him feeling strangely warm inside. Daniel stood and walked toward the large window overlooking the glittering skyline. From the outside, his life looked perfect. Daniel Carter. The youngest billionaire in the city. The heir and current head of the Carter Conglomerate. Yet his name rarely appeared in the media. His face had never been published in the news. He preferred it that way. And most importantly…

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The one who squanders his brother's wealth instead of building a fortune with it. As I sank deeper into my glass, I felt that familiar spiral of rage and hopelessness. Zayn didn’t just win at life, he was born to win. It was written in the stars while I was stuck in the dirt, scrambling for scraps. The pregnancy felt like a betrayal, a cruel twist of fate.