Novel & Cerita Sold To A Handsome Trillionaire

From the back, a young billionaire held up his paddle. "3.5 million," he called. George didn't bat an eye. He countered immediately. "Five million." "Seven million!" The billionaire called. "Ten million," George countered, paddle held high, but the whispers, they were higher, louder. And Camille basked in every single one of them. This was her moment. "Ten million going once, going twice, and sold to Mr. Ashton!" The Emcee's announcement made Camille's chest swell with a mix of happiness and triumph.

And if what Avon was saying was true, maybe this is the answer to my family’s financial problems. "Well, all you have to do is—" She handed me a red card. "Let a billionaire purchase you."

"I didn't feel strong. I felt... broken." Jesse turned toward her, his expression softening slightly. "It's okay to feel that way. But you didn't let him see it. That's the important part." She swallowed, her throat suddenly tight. "I guess." The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal Jesse's penthouse. Tina stepped out, her eyes widening as she took in the expansive space, floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the entire city, sleek furniture, and a modern aesthetic that screamed wealth.

She spat out. She didn't recover all of her memories from that night, but one face was clear in her mind. She felt hatred fill her up immediately she saw the smile of the man that gave her sixty million dollars in exchange to ruin her life. He was standing next to Blaire, smiling widely and shaking her hand. She suspected it was a few millions but then she saw a caption that said "Gemma's Collection celebrating a milestone of five billion dollars sales in a day thanks to Adam Sinclair's generous patronage.

He lifted his hand dramatically. “Let’s begin with Daniella Hale.” “1 million.” “2 million.” “10 million.” “11 million.” “Sold! To Lukas Gene!” Lukas Gene? That rat still existed? I thought he’d gone bankrupt. Probably sold organs for pocket money. “Next — Alexia Skylar Hale.” Oh, boy. When I get out of here, I’m going to kill this man slowly. Painfully. Joyfully. “1 million.” “5 million.”

I couldn't hold my laughter when I caught him in those scenes. Then I saw it. A pair of black YSL heels. Salome. She would have gasped dramatically and claimed it like her destiny. I bought two pairs. Some people forget who they were when money shows up. But I refuse to. I can't forget Salome, never. By the time we reached the counter, the pile was… excessive. Fred handed over the black card. It swiped. Approved. I tilted my head. “May I see the balance?” The manager hesitated before turning the screen. The balance read over one million dollars.

With billionaires, the line between them was thin. He'd chosen Le Bernardin, where seven-course lunches cost more than most monthly salaries. Elena had learned to navigate such spaces, though her wolf still found them suffocatingly civilized. "Straight to business," Castellan said after pleasantries. "I want to buy NovaTech." "It's not for sale." "Everything's for sale at the right price. One billion. Cash. You'd personally net over four hundred million after taxes." Four hundred million. Enough to buy Silvermoon outright, to return as conquering hero rather than strategic investor. Enough to never need anyone's approval again.

whispered someone in the troupe. As the dancers chatted quietly about Damien, I learned he had a background quite different from mine. He had graduated from Stanford, his father was a math professor at the university, and his mother taught humanities. Known for his exceptional skills in numbers since childhood, Damien swiftly rose to become a renowned senior trader in the finance world. People now hailed him as the undefeated Wall Street legend. Damien was indeed a remarkable billionaire, veiled in mystery.

I stood, already dismissing the conversation. And his voice stopped me. “Four hundred billion dollars.” He leaned forward. “I’ll give you four hundred billion dollars if you find him. And if you do it in two days, I’ll transfer fifty percent of my assets to you.” “I have all the money I need Vladimir. What makes your four hundred billion so different?” Vladimir’s grin widened. “My assets, Hilton. My assets make it all different.” Liam was silent beside me, waiting. “And you have a photo of this man?” I asked, taking over yet another desperate man's company was interesting.

Every single one of them. Anger coiled in my stomach. I moved deeper into the house, glancing at the gaps where furniture and artwork once filled the space. Why would he sell these things? And more importantly, why wouldn’t he tell me? We had just taken ten million from Zayn’s company, with my help, we plan to take more and he had only given me a pitiful fraction of it. A thousand here, a couple thousand there. Was that all he thought I was worth? That money was supposed to be ours. Equal risk, equal reward, or so he’d promised.