Pick Up A Billionaire Husband

"I want a divorce, Liora," said Noah Anderson. Liora never expected to be divorced by her husband—especially after he had an affair with her best friend, Bella. To make things worse, Noah had taken out a huge loan from the bank using Liora’s name as collateral. She was thrown out of her own home and left to carry the burden of her ex-husband’s debts. Years later, Liora returned—no longer the broken woman she once was, but the wife of a powerful billionaire. And this time, she was ready to take revenge on the man who once discarded her like she meant nothing.

Lila Sterling had it all, money, power and the perfect fiancé. Until the night she fell from her balcony on the night of her engagement party. The world believes she tried to end her life after battling depression and addiction. But she remembers the truth. She was not drunk that night. She was not depressed and above all she didn’t jump. When she finally wakes up, it’s in another woman’s body. Sera Hale, a struggling intern with debts, a sick mother, and a pregnancy. While the media mourns her death, Lila is forced to live as someone else. Her only chance at uncovering the truth lies with Theo Stavros, the ruthless billionaire who she is yet to know, once wanted her for himself. But Theo isn’t the kind of man who saves, he claims. Now, Lila must play his games while hunting down the person who stole her life. But she soon learns that betrayal can bind tighter than love ever could.

Jessica walked down the aisle against her will to replace her best friend and to save her mother’s life. She never agreed to fall in love with the Billionaire she married but only to survive him. Forced into a contract marriage with powerful hotel mogul John Lewis, she becomes a wife in name only, trapped by threats, silence, and fear. But when her best friend returns with dangerous lies and a fake pregnancy, Jessica is discarded like she was never meant to matter. Except the truth refuses to stay buried. Now John is begging her to stay but Jessica must decide whether to endure the disrespect… or walk away and protect her dignity.

Maynard Hansen planned a luxury birthday cruise for Darlene Thompson, but the cruise ship capsized when a violent storm swept in without warning. Without hesitation, Maynard gave the last seat on the lifeboat to Darlene. As I struggled in the water, my son, Waldo Hansen—whom I carried for nine months and gave birth to—cried out, "Don't let Mom up! She'll push Ms. Thompson off." Clutching nothing but a broken plank, I somehow made it to shore. By the time I collapsed on the sand, I was frozen, exhausted, and done. I had never felt so alone. Shortly after, I found myself clutching a diagnosis of severe depression in my hand. I was ready to bring this wretched life to a quiet end. But when my husband and son realized I truly didn't want to live anymore, they collapsed into tears. They wrapped their arms around me as they sobbed, "Please don't leave us. We really can't live without you."

For five years, I quietly supported my boyfriend, helping him rise from a lawyer's assistant to a partner at a top-tier law firm. At the annual awards ceremony, I was thrilled, ready to celebrate publicly and surprise him. But then, he walked on stage with a female coworker, their behavior cozy and intimate. "Cade owes his success to my brilliant strategies behind the scenes," Caitlyn boasted. Cade smiled, echoing her words, "Absolutely, without Caitlyn, I wouldn't be where I am today." The audience erupted in applause, congratulating them. I stood at the back of the crowd, frozen. Leaving the venue, I called my assistant. "Cut off all networking support for Cade Gilliam. End all cooperation. That shady case he took on? Stop smoothing things over. Let him face the consequences."

Gabriella Halim woke up in a luxurious room she didn’t recognize. When she looked in the mirror, she nearly fainted. Her face was still beautiful, but… more mature. She was no longer the twenty-year-old girl she remembered—she had become a thirty-year-old woman. Even more shocking, she had been married to Adryan Lewis for five years, a young, ambitious, and notoriously cold politician. Gabby immediately realized one thing: her husband hated her. Cold glares, cutting words, and an impenetrable distance left her bewildered. What had happened in the past ten years? Rather than crying or pleading for love, Gabby chose a different path: enjoying the luxury she now had. A grand house, wardrobes full of designer dresses, and an unlimited bank account. Why bother chasing love when life could be this comfortable? But the world of politics was never simple. Public scrutiny, rival political intrigues, and scandalous gossip forced Gabby to take on a role far greater than that of a mere “trophy wife.” And as Adryan began to notice the dramatic changes in Gabby, the question remained: would his hatred persist, or could it transform into something he never expected?

On the day our company went public, my wife deliberately picked a fight. She accused me of dragging the company down and demanded that I hand over the R&D rights for our new product to her first love. Instead of getting angry, I actually laughed. I even gave up my position and sincerely told her, “R&D is exhausting. Why don’t I just let him be the chief instead?” Everyone around us was stunned. They thought I had finally snapped from the stress. However, no one knew the truth. The final material that made the product actually work was incredibly complex, and I was the only one who knew how to make it. Without me, the product they had spent a whole year developing turned out to be nothing but trash. My wife’s company would have to shoulder all the losses, along with a massive compensation payout on the way.

When I'm seven years old, my dad turns me in to the Court Judgment of the Born Wicked because of my tendency to vomit. If I'm found guilty, my blood ties with my dad will be forcibly severed. Then, I'll be sent to prison. Everyone claims that Dad is just making a fuss over nothing. "Your daughter is still so young, so it's natural for her to fall ill. As a father, you should be more considerate toward her." But when the evidence is shown, everyone clamps up immediately. There was once when Dad drank so much to the point he suffered from gastric bleeding. The business contract that he managed to convince his client to sign was all soiled because I vomited on him as soon as he got home. Thanks to me, the contract was voided. Dad got fired on the spot. During Bryce Fuller, my older brother's birthday, I vomited onto his birthday cake in front of his classmates. Because of that, Bryce was isolated by all of his classmates. He became so depressed that he tried to slit his wrist in an attempt to take his own life. I'll keep vomiting everywhere, be it at the dining table or on my bed. Dad and Bryce have to clean me up more than 30 times every day. They suffer greatly because of me. What angers everyone the most is that after I'm done vomiting, I'll laugh at everyone in a provocative manner. The judge gives his verdict instantly, claiming that I'm wicked by nature. Bryce's eyes redden immediately. As he cries, he tells me that he can't bear to see me leaving him. I never shed any tears, nor do I throw a tantrum. Instead, I accept the judge's verdict calmly, but with a prerequisite condition that the judge finishes watching my memories. The judge is shocked, to say the least. "We'll have to crack your skull open in order to extract your memories. You'll be in a world of pain. Are you sure about that?" I nod in determination. But Bryce, on the other hand, looks alarmed. "I won't agree to that!"

I caught my boyfriend cheating. So I went to the one man he feared most—his father. But heartbreak turned into hate. And hate led me straight into Asher’s arms. Now I’m caught in something twisted and wrong… It was meant to hurt him. Still he won’t let me go without a fight. Asher Thompson isn’t just a father. He’s the man behind the mask. A mafian billionaire who hides his criminal empire beneath silk suits and polite smiles. And now, he owns me. I wanted revenge, to make Henry hurt. But each time Asher took me apart with a look. And every time I try to leave, he drags me deeper into his world of secrets and sin. He touches me like he owns me. He looks at me like I was made to be his. But I don’t know what’s worse, the pain Henry caused… Or how much I still feel for him, even while I’m in his father’s bed. And when the truth comes out? Someone’s going to bleed. And I’m not sure I want to survive it. This started with heartbreak. Now it’s war. And I’m the one holding the match.

"Fuck.." I moan as my feverish skin makes me dizzy with lust. [Yes.] "Evet, Mila. You make me want to ravage you when I should be disgusted by the thought of even touching you." He mutters. "But I'm not. Instead, everything about you makes me mad with desire and I can not control it. God's, I tried to but I don't want to anymore." He removes his hand from the wall, wrapping his fingers around my jaw and he forces me to stare up at him. "You've already had a taste of me and one taste is all you get." I swallow loudly, throwing his words back at him. >>> When it comes to my prince charming, my life has been anything but a fairytale. The Esposito family robbed me of all I held dear to my heart. From the depths of my dignity to the depths of my son. I was living in continual terror; my body, as well as my trust and beliefs, were being exploited. Until one fateful day, I gained the strength to flee, dashing into an Irish bar and meeting a Turkish man. I stayed with him for the night before being compelled to return to the house of terrors. After being thrown down a flight of stairs 37 weeks later, I gave birth to my son. I knew who the father was the moment my son's gaze met mine, but I opted to keep it to myself. However, destiny had other plans for me, and I begged my son's biological father for protection as I fled the Italian mafia. We will work together to rescue our son and demolish their network, all while finding love along the way. My name is Mila Starkk, and this is my Screwed Up Love Story.