Miss Billionaire Novels & Stories

Knowing this, Nevaeh has impressed me on different levels. I knew that Mason Miller had a second daughter who I seriously thought would be like her older sister. Her older sister was a well-known model, but she was also known in the business industry as somehow who was cunning and manipulative. She has been seen with plenty of business bachelors which were new faces in the business industry. However, the very confusing thing was that after a couple of months the new faced bachelors suddenly became bankrupt overnight and she dumped them and moved onto her next prey as nothing had happened.

This particular one had both my name, Mia Donovan, and the billionaire, James Christopher Maxwell, on it. I couldn’t help myself and glanced at the man before me, watching me closely with his expressionless face. I decided then the billionaire didn’t look like a Christopher. James? Yes. Maxwell? Definitely. But certainly not a Christopher. It didn’t suit him. Returning my attention to the rest, I noted the words mistress, five years, two million dollars, and a whole lot of others I didn’t know or understand. I wondered if I should take it to a lawyer and have it clarified.

The picture itself screamed of wealth, but not the kind you flaunted; it was the quiet, unshakeable kind that belonged to those who owned the sun. She turned the envelope over, expecting more pictures, the mark’s family, their weaknesses. "Just him?" she asked, her voice tight with surprise. "Just him," Emelio confirmed, taking a slow, measured drag of his cigar. "His name is Alexander Hemsworth. Mighty billionaire and a real-estate mogul out of Nashville." Madison felt a flicker of the old hunger ignite in her chest. She picked up the dossier, scanning the numbers. "That’s clean money, Emelio. And lots of it."

That’s all there is. “Ooh, I see,” I say with a smile tugging at my lips. “Why are you smiling, Mia?” he asks, his voice low and curious. “Nothing,” I reply softly, feeling a bit shy. “I just can’t believe you own all those offices. I mean… you’ve already made it in life, and you still look so young. No one would ever guess that you’re a millionaire.” “Yeah,” he shrugs, “I believe it’s just luck. Nothing more.”

Main character profile: HELENA DECLAN Nickname: The Heiress / Little Empire / H Age: 21 Zodiac Sign: Capricorn Occupation: Billionaire heiress, CEO-in-training, founder of Declan Futures Voice: Sharp, observant, emotionally guarded, witty Born into wealth, but raised in a home that valued love over status. Her father, Harry Declan, gave up everything to raise her as a stay-at-home dad. Her mother, Mia, instilled in her the power of being a woman in control. From the age of 5, she’s been in the public eye. Her school interview went viral. The media dubbed her “The Youngest Billionaire,” but behind the headlines was a child molded with precision, passion, and discipline.

He seemed he was not affected by the blood flowing out from his forehead. She just thought the billionaires were untouchable because of their loads of money, but seeing Bill’s pity face now, she was wrong. “Nothing. It’s just a scratch.” Bill said and walked past her. He strode inside her room and locked the door. The old butler was puzzled. Bill Sky and Young Madame? Like a hedgehog, old butler spikes rose up when he thought how rich was the man in his young Madame’s room. The most wealthy and powerful businessman in capital Z and known all over the world, Bill Sky.

My innocence wasn’t lost — it was sold, stamped, and sealed with thirty billion dollars. At twenty, I was already drowning in debts and poor choices. Every knock on my door felt like a countdown, every message from the bank a threat. Then came him — a man with calm eyes, a measured voice, and an offer that sounded like salvation. He said he needed a maid. Except… it wasn’t just him. They did. An elite circle of billionaires — powerful, untouchable, dangerous.

“Did you see anything in the room at least, that could help you Identify him? I hesitated, the watch flashing in my mind. “I know he's rich, like filthy rich. He had a Patek Philippe Grandmaster chime on the nightstand.” Laura blinked, “I've heard that name before,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Isn't that Scott's dream watch?” She asked. I nodded, my chest tightening. “ It is.” “Oh Linda, I'm so sorry for bringing him up.” She apologized. “It's fine,” I said softly.

Toby assured her, "We cannot be that stupid to sell our boss to some stranger, because he offered us two hundred bucks each." Two hundred bucks each, for information about her. Isabel was mortified. Who would offer such amount of money for nothing? "You see, he was rich." Ginny said, "He wore a Rolex watch, and his nails were well manicured. You can tell his status, despite wearing just a T-shirt and a pair of jeans. He looks like one of those country club golfers---"

Crying wasn't going to solve anything. Checking around she only saw a cheque of five billion dollars and a note vividly explaining how tight and good she was in bed got her all flared up, the person had written that note like she was nothing but a dirty whore who should be grateful for a generous tip. Paying her off for a night stand was bad but making her look like a slut was the least she could contain with, that son of bas**rd should be lucky they never met gave to face and also for the fact she had no idea who he was or she would have taunted him to death and told him how much of a fool he was, the nerve of that b**ch.