Heiress' Househusband Is A Secret Billionaire Novels & Stories

She “Where would you get that large of a money every month.” “Well…” Emily didn’t want to tell him about her true identity. She didn’t want to tell him that she was a professional trader either. The time isn’t right yet. She needed to hold on just a bit longer. She still needs to know that he loves her. Loved her with all of his heart before spilling her beans that she’s the heiress to a tri-billionaire companies. She was the sole heiress to richest man of the world. She sighed as she couldn’t tell him who she really was. Not yet.

I turned up the volume and leaned back in my chair. "Welcome back," the anchor said, shaking her head slowly. "We are following the story that has everyone talking today. Celestine Valancourt, the secret heiress who just married the world's richest man, Lysander Ashcroft, is at the center of a growing scandal. Reports have surfaced that she terminated a pregnancy just weeks after leaving her first husband, billionaire Kier Thornwell. Our panel is here to discuss. Let's start with you, Margaret. What do you make of this?"

“You’re so….moldable. Helen disguised herself as some other person entirely, gaining access to their mansion so she could kill them off. Her boyfriend had stolen enough of the poor sap’s money so they thought it would be enough to elope… until it wasn’t. That’s why those parties I told you about stopped. All of a sudden, we were on the radio when we heard about a girl. The last living heir of Iris and Mr. Callahan, and an inheritance worth five billion dollars in money, and six billion in assets….for a barely one-year-old baby. Now..” He leans over. “I’m going to give you a chance to guess who her partner was…come on, you can do it. You’ve always been so smart.”

And my legally married husband, Eric Macmillan is apparently heir to a Billionaire fortune. I turned to Eric slowly “You’re a billionaire,” I blurted, as I practically shoved my phone in his face. “You’re a billionaire heir. Why didn’t you tell me?!” He froze, eyes widening slightly as he saw the video. “Sienna, I—” “No, don’t ‘Sienna’ me! Why is the internet calling you a billionaire heir?!” He raised his palms gently, like he was approaching a startled animal. “Let’s breathe for a moment. We were about to go get breakfast. Why don't we eat first and I promise I’ll explain anything you want to know.”

Five years later. Los Angeles felt like a city built out of glass, sunlight, and people far too confident to ever admit they were confused. I stood in the twenty-third-floor boardroom at Jamesson Holdings, facing a presentation screen the size of a mortal sin, while Noelle Jamesson stared at the house renderings in front of her as if they’d been assembled in some ancient dead language. Noelle was blonde, beautiful, and dressed in a cream suit that was clearly more expensive than her understanding of the project. She was the daughter of an American tycoon. An heiress. A social fixture. The kind of last name that opened doors before she even had to knock.

I was swung around in a hug and given ten minutes to be kissed by him. He whispered, "We're going to meet tomorrow," in a grim look. “Tomorrow,” I whispered back. Yet, as expected, the situation was not perfect. By morning, the world was already in flames. The headlines hit first. “Billionaire Damian Cole Engaged? Who's the Mystery Woman?”. Does the term "Runaway Bride" refer to a career con artist? Or not? Damian's fiancee' story is brought to light. Photos of me. Of Dylan. Of my past.

The attention was no longer on me, and I felt a sinking feeling, my fingers digging into my palms. “Miss Adeline, who do you think she is?” One of the women probed. “I have never seen her in our social circles!” “The news says they have been married for over three years now! How could we have not known?” “I guess the billionaire wanted to keep his marriage hidden and private. He must love his wife that much.” “I know right? She is even rumored to be the new CEO of Shaw Industries! Everything must go through her approval first!”

“We’re in our house, in our goddamn living room.” “In your house?” Her voice cracked like a whip. “In case you’ve forgotten, this isn’t yours anymore. None of this is. It belongs to her now. To Hailey Vale, the stripper heiress who just hosted a softcore orgy in our ancestral estate and made the cover of three tabloids.” She flung a rolled-up paper across the room. It slid to a stop in front of Marcus. “STRIPPING HEIRESS CLAIMS THE LACHLAN THRONE.

I want him to keep spiralling while I go through the chaos he made me start. My phone buzzes again. Zain: If you don’t fix this, I will. Don’t test me. Ah. There he is. The real Zain. I take a breath, and I block him. As much as I’d enjoy him making a fool of himself, I think I love my peace more. I can’t resist the urge to check the news. The Montclair Watchdog, naturally, was the first to go for the jugular: BREAKING: Montclair Heiress Stuns With Secret Fiancé Reveal. Billionaire Dante Moreau Finally Off the Market?

We are not in the 90's, things change. “I hope this is not a lie because I’m calling the vice chancellor to confirm.” “Why do you hate your son so much?” I shot at Robert, leaning forward. “Why is it so hard for you to trust him or believe a word he says? Oh, that’s right—because you’re too busy devoting all your time to Esther and her precious little Emily. Tell me, do you even remember that Hudson is your son and rightful heir to your properties including White Nova Robotics?”