Richard Sterling Billionaire Novels & Stories

Chapter 017 Esther's POV I woke up as early as 4 in the morning and did a little bit of research on the CEO who wanted to help us with forty million dollars. I found out that aside from being a CEO, he owns luxurious hotels and villas in America, the UK and England. I wonder why such a man with so much money would want something in return when he could just give us the complete fifty million dollars without even feeling anything. Well, maybe he needed what money couldn't buy from us. I just hoped it was something that wouldn't be beyond our power. My stomach flipped just thinking I would have to meet him in person.

Such a shameless guy. " 20 million," he said. I humphed. " You must be crazy". I went to meet him across the table. " You seem lost, you should just leave" " I'm taking you with me. I certainly can buy you and your whole household. And I will" he said. It began to get under my nerves. He kept on talking about money and money, I doubt he has that type of money he keeps bluffing about.

To speak, it was not really a bother as I had enough money and what I meant was good cash to run the city on gas for years. Most times I tried to tell myself I was not calling bluff but the fact remains that I was a Billionaire. Massimo Empire had been a name that ran through two generations and when it was handed over to me as its sole heir I had followed right in the footsteps of my predecessors. I soon reached the phone that still won't stop beeping and was surprised to see who the goddamn caller was. "My account officer?" I was puzzled as to why she was calling so early past ten am.

She had long, dark hair past her shoulders. Regina couldn’t close her mouth. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “I understand this guy taking a short sabbatical after losing such a beautiful woman, but seven years?” the female reporter remarked. “Yeah, and that house. The man is worth almost two billion bucks. You’d think he would hide somewhere more . . . fabulous,” the male reporter said, enunciating the last word in a high-pitched voice. “Yeah, like the Bahamas, or at the very least, Palm Beach,” the female reporter replied. “However, it is good news for the local single ladies that Scott lives so close, because according to our source, he is still on the market.”

" After saying that, he even ruffled her hair like he was scolding a disobedient puppy. Stacie let him do whatever he pleased, but her uneasy eyes were fixed on me. The realization hit me like a blow. It turned out that all this time, I was nothing more than a toy and a prop in some flirtatious bet between a socialite and her rich heir boyfriend. I was sure that the moment I stepped into the VIP suite, the man must have seen and recognized me, so he'd put on the whole act for me. Seeing the color drain from my face, he smirked and stepped closer. "Callum, I'm Oliver Sterling. Do you remember me?" Something in me snapped. Oliver Sterling… Of course I remembered! It was only later that I found

He wasn't here to play their high society games; he was here to conquer them. Instead of walking up the carpet, the billionaire CEO turned back to the Maybach. He extended his large, calloused hand toward the dark interior of the car. A collective gasp rippled through the elite crowd. Lucian Sterling never brought a date to public galas. Victoria Sterling had spent five years trying to parade suitable heiresses in front of him, and he had rejected every single one. A delicate hand, adorned with nothing but a breathtaking, flawless sapphire ring, placed itself in his.

Out of place. The door opened. The man who stepped out did not belong to her world. He wore a dark tailored coat, sharp lines, and quiet confidence. Silver cufflinks caught the weak winter sun. His posture was controlled, his expression unreadable. He moved like someone who had never been told no. Isabella recognized him instantly. Alexander Voss. The billionaire heir to Voss Enterprises. The man splashed across every headline since his father’s death three days ago. Rumors followed him like shadows, whispers of power, inheritance, and a will with unusual conditions.

Richard sighed, leaning back again, “I know you must be going through a lot, and I get that, but this is a lot to ask from a stranger.” “Well, you're right,” I forced a smile, “but think of this as a business deal instead.” Richard smirked, stroking his beard again. A single ray of hope glowed in my heart when I saw him look up. He was intrigued and I didn't want the opportunity to slip away. “Money is not a problem, if that's what you're worried about,” I added, "My dad's a billionaire.” "Yeah, I can see that," Richard exhaled, glaring at the coffered ceiling and marble walls before turning to me. “How much are we talking about, exactly?”

The starting bid: one million. It skyrocketed almost instantly. By the time it reached three million, the air had grown heavy with tension. A murmur rippled through the room. "I think Sterling is bidding." "If it’s him, we don’t stand a chance." "Had I known, I wouldn’t have bothered." Sterling. One of the most powerful financial dynasties in Europe. And its heir—Raphael—had ventured to Australia to expand their empire two years ago. In an astonishingly short time, he had seized control of the country’s private banking sector, drawing in the wealth of its elite.

All of them are desperate to keep their secrets buried. "Richard thought he was building a legacy for his son," I said, running my fingers over the drives. "He had no idea he was creating the perfect weapon for his own family's destruction." I pulled out a photograph tucked behind the drives. Richard Blackstone at a charity gala, his arm around a young woman with dark hair and bright eyes. My sister Katya, two weeks before he had her killed. The memory still burned like acid. Katya had been nineteen, pregnant, and naive enough to believe that threatening to expose his business dealings would make him leave his wife. Instead, he'd had her committed to a psychiatric facility where she'd "commi