Famous Playboy Billionaires Novels & Stories

Little did Amy know how soon she would find out. Amy lay awake that night replaying Viktor's cryptic words. Seeking answers, she Googled him, scrolling through images of the billionaire at various society events, always with a glamorous new woman on his arm. Articles called him an "infamous playboy" and "Europe's most eligible royal bachelor." Amy huffed, annoyed at herself. Why did she care about some aloof Casanova prince? She was just a girl from the Bronx without a penny to her name. What could she possibly have to offer someone like him?

“He can’t do it, obviously he does not have a clean image.” The Barlow contract was the biggest contract in the world for billionaires. It was very hard to get but very easy to lose. Of which one of the rules to getting a Barlow Contract is to have a clean image, which Alex does not have. He has had episodes with women fighting over him on the internet. This earned him the nickname. The billionaire playboy.

My name is Veronica Hargreaves and I hail from New York City, United States. Am actually going to be twenty-seven years old this year, and I am filled with euphoria to tell a very interesting tale about I and my playboy, Jake Benson. I would have to begin from the scratch with how Jake was introduced to me intuitively, when I was in search for playboys in my Company The Hargreaves Textile Company where I was the Ceo after my Dad Richard Hargreaves retired.

The silence inside the house was thick enough to choke on. Ava stood frozen by the wall of windows, the New York news on her phone as she saw the search of his name and behind her like a thousand judging eyes. Rhys Darby leaned against the marble kitchen island, no longer just the dangerously attractive stranger who haunted her steps. Now, she knew his name. was not just Rhys Darby but THE RHYS DARBY. Rhys Darby. Billionaire. Tech mogul. CEO of Darby Innovations, the same man plastered on Forbes covers, whispered about in scandalous gossip columns, and envied in every elite circle that had once felt galaxies away from Ava’s modest life.

Damon Chase, if you asked me who he is six months ago, well let's see, famous playboy with an insatiable sex drive. Loved an easy woman and the thrill of fast cars, also multibillionaire with a ruthless business drive. In a man's world, the perfect man but in a woman’s world, depending who you ask, a man whore.

“He wants the attention, so people will want to work with MasonCo. It’s kinda fucked up, but it’s working.” “Yeah, well, after he made the Forbes list, he’s been in the tabloids have put him on a list too.” Lenora rolls her eyes. “Huh? Tabloids put Bronx on a list?” I furrow my brow. “Yeah.” She pulls away and grabs a tabloid newspaper off the coffee table. “Most Eligible Billionaire Bachelors.” I flip open to the centerfold and see photos of Bronx out and about downtown. The caption under his name calls him ‘tall, dark, mysterious, and loaded’. I cringe at all of those descriptions. It also provides his net worth.

“Ahhh. That explains the look on your face. Spill. Now.” I narrated everything to her, spilling my guts about what happened today. “WOW!” She exclaims, leaning back in her seat, taking a sip of her wine. “He’s interested in you.” “Then, he has a funny way of showing it.” “I live to see this hate unfold into something else,” she said, a mischievous light sparking in her eyes. Typical Anastasia. “Whatever.” I taunted her. “This guy is a billionaire, Demetria — not just running hotels and casinos here in L.A., but across states, across countries. He practically owns the playgrounds of the rich.”

The man lying in bed—the one with the muscled, glorious body draped in elegant tattoos—the one with the cocky, pulse-quickening smile, the piercing blue eyes, and the hot, panty-meltingly filthy mouth—wasn’t a stranger at all. The man in the mattress was the famous billionaire playboy. The most tabloid-infamous rich bad boy in the elite world. The sort of man her grandmother warned her about. The kind she doesn't want to wake up naked next to. The wicked billionaire with a bad stature as massive as his dick. The one who allegedly owned a legion of bodyguards and was rumoured to have his own brotherhood of gigantic, ex-military, strong and beautiful men and women in entire Europe. The man lyi

I continued laughing even when he looked at me like I was taking a pee in the water fountain right outside the Vatican. “Do you even know how rich I am?” he asked after I had laughed at my fill. “Don’t you mean how rich your parents are?” I fired back. “My parents have money. Old money. That’s the myth. I’m a friggin’ billionaire Babe. That’s the part you don’t see on the tabloids.” He paused. There was more. “I mostly portray myself to be a careless playboy still squandering his parent’s money. It’s safer that way.”

"Then, what do you want me to do, Jax? Lie about what I really was before becoming your wife just so everyone will think that you and I suit each other? Do you really wish for us to be covered in lies? Besides, for me there is no problem what my origin is. What other people will say, it will just pass by.” Jaxson brushed his face with both his hands, seemingly in distress. "But I am doing this for you, Cattleya. I am trying to protect you from the paparazzi, and from those people who do nothing but dig in someone's life. I don't want them to make your life a content for their magazine, their news, and their articles." I was taken back when Jaxson raised his voice to me. “—Cattleya, you don't