Liquid Death Dead Billionaire Flavor Novels & Stories

but the winner was, of course, the billionaire beauty. The smirk on her face was the proof, she was happy, more of it she was proud. "So.. you failed again? Future Mrs Francois De Ville?" Billina sneered while Leah scoffed and replied, "There's something about you. You're different." "First of all I'll ruin your whole life, I'm Satan." replied the billionaire beauty. "You don't think you've won the game, do you?" Leah asked, crossing both of her hands around her chest. Just then the baby cooed and Billina replied, "You might get your answer by now."

I added sweetly, “feel free to buy your death.” Ace smirked. Zayn and Alex were choking back laughter. Mike was biting his lip trying not to grin. Even Arielle was smiling, cheeks puffed from holding back a laugh. Then— “120 million.” Every head turned. The bidder smirked. “I’m not scared of a woman. Look at her — she’s a princess. I bet she can’t even hold a gun.” I smirked back. “Awwww,” I said loudly, “look at you, being all brave. Why don’t you hand me a gun and we test that theory?”

She stared at the ceiling until the room grew dark. Dinner that evening was a quiet affair. Alexander worked through the meal, his laptop open beside his plate. Across from him, Maya picked at her salmon, unable to eat. "You're not hungry?" he asked absently. "Not particularly." "You've been looking pale lately. Are you sick?" For a moment, Maya considered telling him. Just laying it all out. I'm dying, Alexander. I have six months to live, and I've spent five years trying to earn your love, and I'm so tired.

"You need to see this." I took the tablet from his hands. The screen was glaringly bright, displaying the front page of a globally recognized financial and celebrity news syndicate. The bold, black, massive block letters of the headline struck me with the force of a physical blow. BILLIONAIRE EXECUTOR GROOMS DEAD FRIEND’S DAUGHTER. A dark, roaring sound rushed into my ears, deafening and violent. The air in my lungs turned to ash.

I thought one more risk could buy us a new beginning. So I swallowed the drug. Five hours later, they gave me a prepaid debit card and sent me home. By the time I reached our basement apartment in Queens, pain was spreading through my lower back, and my mouth tasted like rust. I stopped outside the door, heard enough from Adrian’s phone call to understand everything, then covered my mouth as blood surged up my throat. My parents were alive. Liz was alive. The debt was fake. And the past five years had only been a punishment.

Nathan: “Do you think I’d believe your excuse that you were desperate to sleep with me? Irene Fletcher, you can’t seriously think I swallowed that lie, right?” He stared into my eyes and spoke coldly. I frowned and glared at him angrily. Did this man really enjoy insulting others that much? Nathan: “Tell me, what’s your motive?” When I kept silent, Nathan asked again, still looking at me indifferently. Me: “Give me two hundred thousand dollars.” I told him directly, without blinking or sugar-coating it. I clearly saw his surprise. Then he looked at me mockingly and said: Nathan: “Irene, you’re really greedy. Do you think I should pay two hundred thousand dollars for your virginity?”

I slightly laugh at her, "Hot? Isn't he like 50?" "50? No he's like 32 or something. Like I said youngest billionaire! You know you're lucky that you're Carl's assistant, the rest of us are dead. We all have to step up our A-game. I don't want to lose my job!" Nina says frantically. "C'mon! The guy can't be that bad right?" I ask. Nina simply shrugs. The guy can't be such a tyrant I mean, he can't right?

I stood up and walked closer to the TV. "The Italian-American billionaire, who died over the weekend at the age of sixty-three, was famous for his charisma, his cutthroat business policies, and for being allegedly involved in illegal business—and for his personal life, which was treated as tabloid fodder." My mouth slightly parted as I saw him dressed in all black, his men were all around him, they walked into the church, and I could only see his back. The cameras were being shoved in his face but his body language screamed that he was the least bit bothered by all of it.

worse meaning too beautiful to be real. White marble floors, curved staircase, gold fixtures. Everything was soft and quiet and expensive, there were large paintings she couldn’t understand, plants that looked fake but probably weren’t, and not a speck of dust in sight. She followed Lena up the stairs, passing what looked like a full library, an indoor bar, a hallway of glass doors leading to the rooftop. “Your room is here,” Lena said, opening a door just across from another one. “That’s his.” Of course it was.

"A glass of champagne for me and a box of Delafee chocolate for Miss Malik." When Allison left I look wide eyed at Flynn. "You're kidding right?" "What?" he asked clearly confused. "About the Delafee chocolates. You don't have it." "What makes you think I won't have that?" "I don't know, maybe because it's so fucking expensive." Flynn laughed. "Oh really, I make that money every fifteen minutes." I facepalmed myself. Right. He's a billionaire. "I keep forgetting that you're a CEO." "And why is that?"