My Secret Billionaire Husband Novels & Stories

I could care less of how I’d look, of who took pictures of me as headlines, or of even how people would see me since I was the billionaire’s wife. Almost immediately, I heard the wheels of a stretch run in. It was swift. My eyes followed it and I saw a familiar wristwatch Sebastian loved wearing. It was a Gucci watch. Oh, my god, it was Sebastian. Sebastian Knight. My billionaire husband.

"Hm. Okay. My secret is, I'm in an arranged marriage with a billionaire, and we have ten months left until we get divorced." Oh, come on! I was married to an applaudable queen of mind games. "Wow! What a juicy secret I knew totally nothing of. Please tell me more." I faked enthusiasm, and she chuckled. "Well, this billionaire happens to have a girlfriend whom he is madly in love with." "And have you ever thought that this billionaire could be attracted to you?" I asked her, and she sighed. "I don't think I could ever have what it takes to get his attention and attraction. He is my friend, and I appreciate it."

Sandra’s POV “What?!” I gasped unbelievably at my father and stumbled backward as the word hit me right in my heart. “You heard him right. You cannot stay here. I cannot bring in my first daughter that the nation knows got married to the popular billionaire, Brian Fenandro. Have you ever thought this through?” My mother's angry voice filled the air as she glared at me in displeasure. “You cannot be a disgrace to me or this family,” She spat out and I gasped.

Serena moaned—low, broken—and rocked against him instinctively, feeling him hard and straining beneath her. “You think I wanted to pretend?” he continued, voice rough, ragged. “You think I didn’t hate every red carpet, every photo op, every time she smiled for the cameras while I counted the hours until I could get back to you? You think I didn’t want to drag you into the light and say you are my wife?" Serena’s hands slid down to his shoulders, nails digging in through his shirt. “Then do it,” she hissed, grinding down on him until he cursed under his breath. “Stop hiding. Stop letting her wear your name. Stop making me the secret.”

It was the kind of tiny tell I used to catch in Rafael without even thinking about it, and now I was sitting there catching it in Noelle instead while she did her best to look normal, like her entire understanding of the situation hadn’t just been knocked slightly off its axis. “How well?” I could lie. Not completely. Noelle was already too close to the shape of it. But I could soften it. I could say it was years ago, it was complicated, it ended badly, none of this affects the project. All true. None of it enough. And I was too tired to keep wrapping bombs in gift boxes. I set the glass down on the credenza. “We were married.” The second I said it, the room went quiet in that deeply inconve

It was the same one I'd had my eye on at an auction two weeks ago -- the one a mystery buyer had outbid everyone for, driving the price sky-high. So that was it. The mystery buyer who'd spent a fortune just to make his girlfriend smile was my husband, Marcus Thorne. My gaze drifted toward the CEO's office. The girl was straddling Marcus's lap, her arms looped around his neck. Marcus -- the man whose germophobia was legendary -- was smiling as he opened his mouth and bit the french fry dangling from her lips. Then they kissed, deep and lingering, as though they couldn't bear to pull apart. I felt like I'd been struck by lightning.

It felt like a stage. "So," I whispered to the empty, sunlit air. "My husband isn't a mechanic." I tossed the heavy envelope onto the glass coffee table. It landed with a satisfying thud. "He's the missing CEO of Cross Industries. He's dodging a multi-billion dollar tech acquisition. And he's in deep trouble with his terrifying grandmother." A slow, wicked smile spread across my face. I had married a ghost. A phantom billionaire who was running from his own empire, just like I was running from mine.

In a black suit that did not look like any suit I had ever seen him in, moving through a room full of the richest people in the country like he had built every wall of it himself. I wiped my eyes. I wiped them again, not caring about the mascara, not caring about anything, because this could not be real. This was a dream. I had fallen asleep somewhere and this was a dream. Then I heard Julian's voice beside me, low and stunned. "Dominic Ford?" I looked at Julian. I looked at Dominic. It was real. My husband was the chairman of Veil Holdings. My husband was the richest billionaire in the country. The mystery man. The ghost nobody had photographed. The man I had been plotting to seduce ten min

Girls were already glaring at me with hatred. I hurried into the elevator. When I woke up in the morning I was on the news channel. It was breaking news. 'IS Billionaire's brother got married?' With this headline, their camera zoomed on his hand on my waist and then on the ring. They didn't stop there. They showed Alyssum and Agat pictures while they were shopping. They related it to our secret wedding. The second news channel was relating it to my pregnancy! The idea brought a delicious shiver down my spine. I shook my head and walked out of the elevator when it dinged, breaking my thoughts.

Alexis says pointing at me. "What does he do?" Zia asks "He runs a small investment company passed down from my father’s side of the family" Alexis shrugs "I’m guessing this investment company isn’t so small, is it?” Zia asks looking at me. I nod. “He runs Ravio Investments.” “Zelina Kianna Gold! your husband is the 1 richest man in the world?" Zia asks "Niki made 1?" Alexis asks "Yes." Zia nods so fast I feared she would get whiplash.