Filthy Rich Novel Novels & Stories

But I didn’t build an empire by giving in to impulses. His file sat open on my desk, pulled from the dark corners of my network. Micah Reed, twenty-six, freelance hacker, no criminal record but a trail of debts. Unpaid hospital bills for his mother. A sister in college. He was good. Too good to be working for scum like Rico. And too reckless to realize he had stepped into my world. The shipping manifest he hacked was Sophia’s location. My blood. If the cartel had reached her first, I would have burned their world to ash.

Well some would call it a flat but not me, from the rows of designer dresses to the tweed jackets and suit, to the beautiful dinner dresses down to designer suits and casual wears, all stacked up in the wardrobe to my right, then the endless shoe rack with all types of heals and snickers, plus more rack holding up my bags that don’t seem to end, bags in ever color and style and every luxurious fabric, over to my jewelries encased in a shoe glass on a wardrobe island as I’d like to call it. I went over and picked my outfit for the day, ready to look and act the part of next-in-line CEO, I got dressed and picked up my phone to text my soon-to-be fiance before I’d get a lecture from my mom but

I'm not sure if it was on intentional or not, but they made a wonderful duo. It irritated me a little. What was the deal with filthy affluent folks being so appealing? Wasn't the fact that they had money enough? Did they have to steal everyone's wonderful looks as well? It was so unjust. Or maybe I was just too cynical. That was something I had to work on.

I’d always been dirty. But I couldn’t stay the fuck away anymore. I needed to distract myself. Finding what Emile was on about was as good a distraction as any. I didn't take my eyes off the entrance of the twenty-story SSC building. It was a high-end establishment with a bar, a boutique catering to the rich, a fine dining restaurant exclusively serving to gold members. There was a pool, jacuzzis, saunas, gyms and boutiques of highly exclusive brands and rare niceties—everything that catered to the senses of the elites.

The light fell over Nicholas’s face, making him look even more like a statue carved from marble—perfect, but lifeless. “After you finish cleaning, you may go to your quarters. They are down the hall, second door to the left,” she said, leaning against the window frame, looking at me carefully. “I will pay you twenty-five thousand pesos a month. Is that enough for you?” My eyes widened. Twenty-five thousand—more than enough to live comfortably, more than I had ever earned in my life. It was a fortune. “It’s more than enough, Ma’am. Thank you.” “Good. Do well, and you will be treated fairly. Disappoint me… and you will regret ever being born.”

I walked to my seat and sat down, I don't talk to anybody in the class except from my friend's, this school is for rich kids and if you're a scholarship student like me they won't want to interact with you so basically rich kids hate poor kids that's how it has always been in Empire High School, it's crazy how I became friends with Jade and the others. I decided to keep myself busy with the new romance book I ordered from Goodnovel app, the name is “After Divorce I Became A Zillionaire” it was a very emotional romance book between Ava and her husband Nicklaus, I just don't know why Ava had to forgive Nicklaus after the heartbreak that he caused her, but sometimes when I think about Ava I thi

They kept rotating, switching holes with filthy ease, whispering the dirtiest things against my ear. “That’s it, Mrs. Romanov. Milk our cocks. Show your husband how well you take real men.” “You’re dripping everywhere, princess. Such a greedy married cunt.” I came again. And again. Until my voice went hoarse and my legs trembled uncontrollably. But in the middle of it all, while Ace was buried deep in my pussy and Flynn used my mouth, Alaric dropped the real bomb.

I could imagine them just taking a sip of some expensive wine, the name in some French cursive that was too long to pronounce, their eyes skittering across my outfit that was my best to pass of anywhere, judging me. Their nose would be raised in the air, maybe because of my awful smell or the fact they could smell that my bank account was way less than theirs…did poverty have a smell? They would know. I was languishing in it every day that I probably couldn’t differentiate how they smelled like. I’m sure they would like Veronica, she looked like them, she looked like she was rolling in dollars. She must bathe in milk or dip her feet in gold. She must… My eyes connected with the flint from th

The entrance she stood at---had a fountain in the middle with several expensive cars lined up at the end. "I believe, you're here to help us?" A voice startled her. She closed her mouth shut and turned around to see a beautiful looking lady softly smiling down at her. Before Ilaria could decline, the lady signaled for her to follow inside. She sighed and nevertheless followed her in silence. "Can you clean? since we are in short of cleaners." The lady asked from the front, "oh how rude of me, I'm Maggie Joe, the incharge here." Before Ilaria could gawk at her surroundings once again, they turned left towards the luxurious kitchen.

Chapter 22 Zariah’s POV The city outside her windows glittered like a field of diamonds scattered over black velvet. From this height, the streets didn’t roar; they pulsed — a quiet rhythm of headlights and life, a reminder that even when empires trembled, the world refused to pause for anyone. Zariah stood barefoot on the marble floor, one hand resting on the cool glass. Her reflection stared back — still, poised, unreadable. The news cycle had already devoured her, spat her name across headlines, and moved on to the next scandal.