Pampered By Billionaire After Being Betrayed Novels & Stories

“I don’t want us to get separated later. Emily, you spread light wherever you go and I’m so lucky to meet a woman like you.” He lifted my hand and kissed it gently. “I was so traumatized by my past that it almost destroyed me.” My heart clenched painfully. I searched his eyes and I could see the sincerity in them. He sighed, dry chuckle escaping his lips. “Everyone knows me as the billionaire playboy. Multiple girlfriends. Can’t stay committed. All that.” He shook his head slightly. “But before that… there was a loyal man who got betrayed. And that made me the way I was.”

My dark hair fell in soft waves. I looked beautiful. Like a wealthy princess from a fairy tale. I was indeed a billionaire tycoon wife now. When I walked downstairs, the maids and everyone present including Damian looked up. His eyes darkened for a second. Then his face turned hard again. “You’re late.” he said. My cheek flushed. “I’m sorry.” He offered me his arm, I hesitated before taking it. The warmth of his skin against mine sent a confusing shiver down my spine. He led me out of the mansion toward the waiting car.

To Tasha’s cruel, cutting words. > “You slept with him for money and power.” > “You betrayed your fiancé.” > “You’re just a nepo wife.” > Amara’s jaw tightened. The words were a bitter taste on her tongue. Tasha didn’t know the truth. No one did. Except her. And Damian. James and Lila had drugged her. They had filmed her. They had stolen her future—then handed it to each other like it was nothing. And the world? The world had called her the villain.

His eyes roamed over my ruined body with dark satisfaction. “Morning, island whore,” he said with a smirk. “You look exactly how I want you, dripping and ready for more.” Before I could respond, the other five billionaires entered the room, all freshly showered but already hard again. Their eyes lit up when they saw me. “Fuck, she’s still leaking,” one of them, a silver-haired tech mogul named Victor, groaned. “I want her first.” Damien chuckled. “Be my guest. But we’re doing something special today. The Hunt.”

I thought the reason he wanted me again and again was because he loved me too much to stop. Now, I finally saw it for what it really was—he was just using my body as practice. I couldn't stop myself from wondering, almost torturing myself with the thought: If it had been Claire Ingram, would Nathan have forgotten protection? Would he have cared more about her than his own pleasure? I took the morning-after pill, then thought back on the six years I'd chased after him. All I could feel was how ridiculous I'd been. My family had one of the most powerful business empires in the world. We had wealth and status. My brother, Andrew Read, was basically a legend—everyone knew his name for his genius

“Never a joke. And it wasn’t an experiment meant to test you. Glenn… he wasn’t created to manipulate you, Jasmine. He was the version of me that existed when the world wasn’t expecting Tristan Winthrop. The curse has kept me isolated for years. My titles, reputation and wealth dictated every interaction. There are rare moments, very rare when I need anonymity. When I need to exist without all of that shaping how people see me. Glenn wasn’t a fabricated personality. He was simply me, without the weight of everything else.” I searched his face, looking for the lie. The convenient excuse, but it wasn’t there. His eyes held steady, and they looked honest in a way that made my chest ache. “You st

Breonna’s always been tough, but this, dealing with the news that the guy she’s been involved with is not only a liar but also a billionaire with an entirely different life, shows a kind of strength I’m not sure I have. I look back at the TV. Emmett’s face is still plastered on the screen, and his name in bold letters beneath him. I’ve never felt more betrayed. But then again, who am I to judge? Secrets are part of the game, aren’t they? We all have them. But this... this feels like another level.

How I wish he was here to tell me all this was some sick imagination or dream. But ghost doesn't speak. “Who is he?” I asked, my eyes still fixed outside the window. She didn't answer. I didn't expect her to. She even dressed better than I did. “I deserve to know.” A long silence, then, “Was a man with influence, power and money.” “I believe that's not all to tell about him.” She sighed this time, irritated. “He was a billionaire. Cold, private and dangerous, some say.” My breath caught. “Dangerous?”