El Contraataque Del Multimillonario Disfrazado Novels & Stories

The possessive way he fucked me like he both hated and needed me. I forced a grin. “You’re crazy, man. You watch too many movies.” He stepped aside but whispered as I passed, “Run while you still can. He’ll ruin you.” Later that day, I overheard two employees gossiping near the cafeteria. “Did you hear about The Ghost? Some billionaire who shows up masked at underground parties. Pays good money, fucks like a demon, then vanishes. Nobody ever sees his face.” I laughed it off again. But deep inside of me, i was worried for myself.

Her phone buzzed again. Luca: Then come somewhere private. Sienna: That sounds like the beginning of a documentary about rich serial killers. Luca: You've really committed to this murderer narrative. Sienna: Because you keep acting suspicious. Another typing bubble. Luca: There's a charity masquerade tomorrow night. Sienna: A masquerade? Luca: Very dramatic. Monaco loves costumes. Sienna: You're already wearing a billionaire disguise every day. Luca: That was rude.

"I told her she was the most stubborn, brilliant, impossible woman I'd ever met. And that I wanted to build something real with her." Maria beamed. "That's romantic." "It was a disaster," Izzy said. "I was wearing a four-thousand-dollar dress I was afraid to sit in." "Four thousand dollars?" Frank's cop instincts activated. "For one dress?" "It was the gala," Alex explained. "She needed something appropriate for...." "Nobody needs a four-thousand-dollar dress," Frank said. "I agree," Alex said. "I offered to buy her ten dresses for half that price. She refused."

The gala was exactly what I expected and somehow still worse. Crystal chandeliers. White flowers. Men in tuxedos who looked like they had never once carried groceries. Women glittering in jewels that probably had their own insurance policies. I mean, if body parts could be insured in this day and time, how much more jewelries? Everyone smiling too hard, speaking too softly, and pretending not to be calculating each other’s worth. It was a room full of expensive liars. So, naturally, Dominic fit right in. He walked beside me with one hand lightly at my back, and though the gesture looked graceful to everyone else, I could feel the silent command in it.

“I know, but hearing him talk about work makes me hesitate. He promised opportunities.” “Yeah, just like he’s been doing for the last few years. Typical rich boy, acting all tortured and generous, baiting sympathy with daddy’s money, but never following through on his promises.” I chuckled softly but found myself staring at my reflection, conflicted and listless. I shut my mind and finished my shower. But when I opened the cabinet, all that was inside was a burgundy lacy dress—sheer, delicate, and impossibly soft. I could almost picture how it would flow around my body, hugging every curve and gently cupping my most intimate parts.... I cursed under my breath, what the hell was this supposed

“This has never really happened to me before.” “What do you mean?” Ethan laughed, sitting forward in his seat. “What kind of person offers a complete stranger a million dollars?” I said, still in shock. “That’s completely outrageous! What are you, some kind of billionaire?” “Well.” Ethan grinned proudly. I couldn’t believe it. “So you thought you could manipulate me with your money?” I started feeling a little cheap. “I wasn’t really looking at it that way,” Ethan said with a confident smirk. “Think of it as more of a payment for services rendered.”

And the idea of getting to know him better and writing his story is incredibly tempting. Emily replied. "I see. And how do you feel about that?" It's frustrating," Sarah said. "I mean, I understand that he's a billionaire and all, but that doesn't give him the right to treat people like they're beneath him. He talks down to the staff at his hotels, he interrupts people when they're speaking, and he's always bragging about his money." That does sound pretty unpleasant," Emily said. "And do you think you could handle being around that all the time? Even for just a year?"

Not of bankruptcy, not of Lorenzo, but of her own body’s betrayal. “Tomorrow you move into the penthouse,” he said, returning to his seat, severing the moment with the precision of a guillotine. “Be ready. Real life starts now, and there won’t be an audience for us to pretend we’re strangers.” As the limousine glided through Milan’s deserted streets, Sofia realized the first mask had been a success, but the price had been high. She had saved her father’s legacy, but she was now trapped in a castle under the gaze of a king who knew no mercy, yet who stirred in her a desire she didn’t know how to control. The gala had been merely the prologue; the true battle, she suspected, would be fought wi

My voice sharpened, slicing the air. Sandra pressed on. “I wonder what he sees in you—” Another burst of laughter tore through me. “Sees in me? Oh no, sweetheart. The chance of that happening is less than zero. Try minus infinity.” My grin twisted into something manic. “Besides, your idol is already spoken for. Haven’t you heard? The man practically has a fiancée. Lifelong devotion and all that jazz.” A ripple of surprise swept the room. “Anyway. Mr. Valero must’ve made a mistake. Maybe the necklace was swapped with one from his fiancée’s collection. That’s all.”

As the lenses zoomed in, billions of people around the world held their breath in front of their screens. They saw the legendary, cold-blooded tyrant of Wall Street. The disfigured billionaire they had once called a "monster." Sebastian Sterling was covered in soot and blood, his black tactical coat in tatters. His signature silver mask had completely shattered, holding nothing back as it exposed the terrifying burn scars on the left side of his face to the entire world.