Sky Millionaire Matchmaker Novels & Stories

[This is just a preview of the book, the rest of the history its not in this platform] I am aware that many would die to be in my position, in Vanessa Collins' position: married to the great millionaire Bill Allen, living surrounded by luxury and being a partner in a multi-million dollar company, but still, there is an emptiness in me that nothing can fill. Not even the greatest luxuries in the world can fill what I have lost and will never get back. I released an intense sigh as I watched my husband come downstairs for breakfast.

“This is for your good, Maeve, you should block him. You’ll be betrothed to Mr. Smith soon. A billionaire, Maeve! Do you realize what that means for us? We cannot have some stupid boy ruining this arrangement.” “Please Mom, give it back,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm as I reached for the phone. Hudson looked up at him in annoyance. “You all should calm down and stop acting like babies.” Gianna leaned back, her eyes scanning me. “No. I won’t let you mess this up. Mr. Smith is the perfect match, and you—” Her words collided together as a surge of nausea hit me. I clutched tight to the edge of the table, my stomach twisting violently.

Alex Goldman, one of the richest bachelors in Los Angeles, was known to throw the biggest, most extravagant parties in the city. Automatically, all the rich people were invited to his parties. Anyone who was a celebrity, a rich businessman, a smoking hot girl, or easily found on G****e for being famous, was allowed entry. This was Alex’s attempt at mimicking Jay Gatsby, from the movie The Great Gatsby, though he did not have a special girl that he waited for because every girl at the party was a potential one-night stand for him.

“So, your first impression of me is a spoiled brat and a rebel heiress married to a playboy billionaire. You wondered, what a perfect match of privilege trust funds kids.” “You, maybe, but Mr. Creed is not a privileged trust fund kid. He’s self-made. You two are still perfect, and I was wrong about you. First, I refused twice with this assignment. But I didn’t have a choice since I was just an employee like everyone else. And yeah, I have money. I invested my money in the firm, Mykel’s company, and with Cenric’s.” “Glad I proved you wrong. Tell me, are you dating anyone?”

made her dismayed. "She thinks I'm a stalker pervert". "She has her reasons, I told you it was not a good idea to go to her work to harass her, especially if you had seen her before, you would not go unnoticed". Maximiliano sighed once more: at the wedding where he had first seen Amelia, he knew she was the perfect woman to be his fake wife, or so he hoped. He had tried with too many women already, but they had all been failures, they demanded a lot of money for little effort, the only thing they had to do, was to sign some papers alleging that both were united in a marriage, and that was it, but to the high society women, it seemed a mediocre pay that he was offering, and even raising the p

Stefano nodded and then they both shook hands to say goodbye. The taller man decided that he would return to the house a little earlier than usual since he wanted to think more clearly about the casting of women. She must be a candidate with enough good presence that she didn't look too different from him. She had to be beautiful and know at least etiquette and protocol. He had no idea where he could find someone like that, but on the way home he came up with a very different idea than what he had already planned in his head. When the driver parked in front of the mansion, he got out of the car and realized that his mother was there.

We didn’t look like two drunk idiots playing pretend. I looked up at Eric and said, “We’re screwed. “Completely, and utterly fucked.” My heart was pounding and then, I read the caption below the video: “British Billionaire Heir Marries Mystery Woman in Miami.” That one sentence was bold enough to punch my soul straight out of my body. I blinked at first, then blinked again. British… what? Billionaire… Who? “What—?” I choked out, staring at the screen like it might suddenly correct itself.

Yeahh I didn't sleep last night, Michelle and I had to go midnight shopping for clothes so I could look less of a frustrated guinea pig and more of a PA to a billionaire. "Don't forget, Dubai is the heart of sugar daddies, so do not forget to get one", Miriam teased and I rolled my eyes. By the time were were done with that and packing, it was morning already. "Your bags have been packed to the car, you're all set to leave", she said. He then nodded and started heading out. I hurriedly followed him. "It was nice to meet you", I said smiling as I dragged my tiny feet's and followed Mr Greenwood.

"This Miles character is like... the quintessential douche-bro celebrity schmuck." My eyes raked over the synopses, hardly believing that such an egregious embodiment of vapid, artificial Hollywood douchery could exist in real life, let alone hurling his cruelties at someone as substantive and admirable as Megan. Maybe the gossip girls had been onto something in their refusal to fathom such an ill-matched pairing existing in the natural order. I shook my head in disbelief, only to stiffen as a particular headline made my heart plummet sickeningly. *"This Year Hollywood Award winners: Miles and Hailey - A Destined Pairing?"*

The memory of that night in Hawaii—the taste of her, the sound of her laugh, the way she looked at me not with sycophantic awe, but with a fiery, defiant challenge—it’s branded into me. It has never happened before. No woman has ever lingered like this, a ghost in my boardrooms and a phantom in my penthouse. “Sir, I think you should watch this.” My secretary’s voice cut through the turmoil. His tone was carefully neutral, but I caught the underlying tension. He handed me a tablet. On the screen, a headline blazed in bold, black type, accompanied by a crystal-clear photo of Emily and me during one of our dates. “FROM ONE BILLIONAIRE TO ANOTHER: THE MYSTERIOUS MS. CARTER, THE ONLY ONE WHO CONQ