I Am A Billionaire Novels & Stories

“Men should be like Kleenex, soft and strong and disposable.” - Unknown author. Eduardo continued the presentation as if nothing had happened. He didn't give a damn what his peers thought of him. People talked behind your back all the time. He has been labeled a “billionaire playboy” and this has made him the center of much gossip and intrigue for years.

I can't sincerely believe that I am already a billionaire and it happened all because of my powers, I am indeed a powerful Billionaire. About six months have passed now, I have bought a new mansion for my mum, I now live alone but I am with my girlfriend Lisa. She loves to wear diamonds and golds that I buy for her and it fits her well… Actually I love it when she looks flashy, because she's the only one that can explain how stinking rich I am. A company will be partnering with us today and a meeting will surely be held. There's a need for our investment in their company, and a contract to be drafted to them so that they could be a primary company under my corporation.

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.”

He took her to the bank so An hour later, San entered her apartment and found Gael on the bed waiting for her. He did not look happy and turned his face to the other side. San sighed. "What is your problem Mr millionaire?" "Billionaire. I am a billionaire you fool. But why do you even care. Go to your boyfriend and eat those pancakes with him." Gael huffed angrily while San nodded. "So, you are angry because I ate pancakes." She laid on the bed and relaxed herself while Gael thought for few minutes.

I discovered that I can predict what will happen, what has happened, and what is happening in another part of the world. Because of hate, I used all those powers to steal the trade secrets of all business tycoons in the world, and I became one of the youngest billionaires of the country. I became Mr. Timber of social media. Yes, because I need to trick the people from thinking differently about me, and my riches.

He said as he raised the cup to his lips. “He needed his inheritance. And a hundred thousand dollars was literally nothing to a billionaire like him.” I said nonchalantly and he spewed out the coffee in his mouth. “He's a billionaire?” He asked in surprise and I nodded quickly. “That man that you just called shabby and weak is Owen Walker, the richest billionaire in the whole of Michigan. He owns the biggest entertainment industry here!” I exclaimed and he stared at me with his mouth wide open. “The Ws? Are you serious?” He asked in disbelief and I nodded.

“You know him?” “Everyone knows him in Wall Street Tesoro. He's a big shot. He has never missed a contract bidding. Everyone knows that once you have him as a competitor over a contract, it's best to withdraw with honour than be defeated with Shame” “Really?” I know they call him the ruthless Billionaire of Wall Street, but I don't know why. I thought it was because of his cold demeanour.

The screen shifted to a photograph. The same man. The same sharp jaw. The same dark, unreadable eyes. The same presence that had made her spine tighten with awareness. Her neighbor. The billionaire next door. Zayrielle stared, her heart pounding. This wasn’t just wealth. This was power—the kind that crushed people without ever touching them. The elevator dinged. She stepped inside, her thoughts racing. So that’s who he was. Which meant the men in suits. The tension. The warning. It all made sense.

I bellowed, raising my wine glass high. Hawk, Asher, and Delt mirrored the motion with bright smiles on their faces. “Cheers, Boss.” When I raised my eyes to the windows, they reflected my red-rimmed eyes. Ignoring it, I focused on the girl who had been pestering me for a dance. I grinded against the girl while my other hand fondled the tits of a woman who was half-drunk and fully thrilled to be near me. “Thirteenth richest man under forty,” the media said. “Youngest billionaire to legally dominate an entire metropolitan empire.”

Nothing tacky and nothing excessive. Well… maybe a little excessive. But it was my birthday, so who cared? Twenty-five. Some people panic at that number. I don’t. I’m filthy rich, heir to Villaflor Empires, owner of Villaflor Industries, self-made billionaire. Food productions, telecommunications, even businesses that practically print money. Life has been generous. Still, birthdays have a strange way of making even the most confident man reflective.