My Poor Husband Billionaire Secret Novels & Stories

But now, seeing the woman's defeat and painful look, made him want to have her all the more. "Wait, I don't believe you. Are you- wait, t-the Shawn Richmond? CEO of…" "Yes," Oh goodness! This man, her husband? How insane? This is impossible. It was just a single, straightforward reply, but it had a massive impact. How could she be this stupid? The man was nothing but a cold-hearted billionaire playboy, rich and demanding and evil and so sexy and.... hot! damn it! "Oh my God..."

“Oh Common, your husband is a billionaire and quite influential. He is all you need” “What do you mean” I furrowed my brows.

Turns out being rich and lonely felt worse than being broke and busy. At least one thing had changed. I was glowing. Good food, zero stress, and expensive skincare had done their work, and even I had to admit I looked better. Out of curiosity one afternoon, I searched his name. Alexander Blackwood.Turns out my fake husband owned half the world, industries, fashion companies, a media channel, a model agency, a multi billion dollar empire. Funny how I had to find out about my own husband from the internet, given I hadn't seen him once since arriving. He left before I woke up and came back after I was already asleep.

“That’s cheating. You didn’t tell me the place we are going to. How am I supposed to know the one place I wanted to go that you have in mind, and how did you know about the one place I wanted to go?” “Wifey, have you forgotten I am your best friend? I’m Vold.” She smiled, “Oh! If I knew Vold would become my husband, I wouldn’t have told you all my secrets.” He pulled her closer, “I’m glad I know most of your secrets, and I am looking forward to know every bit of details about you. You know I love you, wifey.” “I love you, too, hubby.”

He Instructed with stern in his eyes. His coldness made Abigial kill the urge of trying to question why he had sent breakfast for her after letting her cry all night. She cursed herself for being such a heavy sleeper . " You will stay at home until I find something for you." " I will be a housewife?" She returned back to the bed. " A billionaire's house wife." He corrected, " A lot of Ladies want this and you got it." Abigail eyed him through her glasses, not disappointed by his words. He had always had fun ridiculing her and it wasn't something new now.

“Right. So now my greatest sin is being too good at putting a room together.” “Your greatest sin,” he said, “might be that you’ve spent too long believing your beauty could clean everything up.” That was the second one. I felt that faint nausea rise again. My instinct went straight to my stomach, to the small secret I had carried home for him. For us. For the night that was supposed to become one of the best nights of my life. And suddenly I could see how grotesque it all was. Me, standing here defending my dignity in front of a husband who didn’t even respect me enough to keep the words cheap woman behind his teeth. And inside my body, a baby I had wanted to give him wrapped in an invisible

She will make their lives miserable. When Oscar was dumbfounded by Aretha's words, he turned to see Roger, who was sitting leisurely in his chair, watching them. This person is a billionaire of AL. Oscar has to rely on Roger a lot. He doesn't want to lose the mountain of gold in front of him. If his daughter Jenny were to marry Roger, then the second half of Oscar's life would be worry-free. Oscar made a serious face at Aretha, raising his voice. "The police will take you away in a while. You will be arrested for abusing the company's public funds and assaulting others. This crime is hard to escape."

He hissed. "I do have my things going. I am not the eldest son..." he didn't give many details. He was really a billionaire.. I didn't know if I should cry or laugh that I was married to a billionaire. It just made it obvious how screwed I was. I had threatened a billionaire to marry me. He was more powerful than I thought.

The headline screamed in bold: BILLIONAIRE ETHAN BLACKWOOD'S SECRET MARRIAGE EXPOSED: ARTIST WIFE HIDING IN PLAIN SIGHT? Below it, a blurry photo—her laughing up at Ethan outside the courthouse, his hand at the small of her back. Another of her boarding a plane to Florence alone. Speculation followed: Was it a publicity stunt? A green-card marriage? Or had the reclusive billionaire finally been tamed by an unknown painter? Lila scrolled, stomach churning. Comments poured in—vicious, curious, envious. "Gold digger." "She doesn't look like his type." "Poor Victoria—dumped for some nobody."

Damian Blackwood waited at the altar like he was attending a funeral instead of his own wedding. Tall, still, unreadable. Black suit. Dark eyes. A mouth that looked as if it had forgotten how to be kind. For a second, Elena’s steps faltered. Her fingers tightened around the bouquet. Somewhere behind her, the wedding planner made a sharp little sound, probably terrified the bride was about to ruin the most photographed marriage deal of the year. Marriage deal. That was all it was. One year. One signature. One ruthless billionaire paying off her family’s debts in exchange for a wife he could parade in front of the board, the press, and his dying grandfather.