Spell Billionaire Novels & Stories

"Yeah I don't think it's that easy and which super-rich billionaire in this day and age is under pressure from their family to get married" "Belshar Nessar Abed is," she said and I jerked to an upright position. Julie cursed and sat upright too. "What! What!" She asked, her eyes darting around in alarm before they came back to me. "What the hell is wrong" "You just said Belshar" I choked out and she slowly nodded. "I know everyone thinks he's an evil Mafia killer, he probably is but he is also the only billionaire I know who is being pressed to get married... I guess it has to do with his mafia ties, have to continue the lineage"

I was in the house of a man who had been deeply happy with another woman, and now only dozens of her portraits were scattered throughout the house. There was a smaller, more recent photo. Miguel, unshaven, held a small white bundle against his chest. His expression was unlike anything I had seen in the short time I had known him. He looked happy as he held his son in his arms. A shiver made me tremble. What the hell was I doing? I was just a girl trying to get back on my feet, a girl who accepted a fake relationship to protect herself. Now, I was snooping through the emotional wreckage of a mysterious billionaire, feeling the weight of his loss as if it were my own.

When talking about the gay billionaire, it means only one person Charles Eden, one of the ranking richest man in the world and also a shareholder in Shrap broadcasting Corporation. But what can Mr Dale have about him? "Continue" I said since as he has gotten my full attention. "No Miss Shrap, that isn't how it works. You have to pay to hear it and believe me this is so huge. We never know, this might be your way to great success and fame." "And you have to pay a huge price to hear the billionaire secret" he said while I groaned. "Where are you? Let's meet, I will come with the payment"

Only the clatter of cutlery and the soft hum of the AC can be heard. “My friends and I are organizing a charity gala tonight, and I want you both to attend,” he says, pointing his index finger at the two of us seated at the table. “I think it’s time to let my friends and associates know the Davidson future is safe, and worth their money if they invest in us.” My heart flutters. My chest tightens. I’ve never been to these kinds of things before. I don’t fit into the billionaire world. Not only that, but I’ve always been a contented girl. If not for my father’s insatiable quest for wealth, maybe I’d be on a vacation right now—right next to Barry.

The moment her eyes read the embossed lettering, her heart nearly leaped out of her chest. Fernando Castello Ortega Chief Executive Officer, Castello Group Aixa covered her mouth. Her body swayed, and she nearly collapsed onto the wet asphalt. Fernando Castello Ortega? The richest billionaire in Spain, whose business empire stretched across almost all of Europe? Aixa had heard his name countless times in financial newspapers at university and on television news broadcasts. He was known as a ruthless, cold-hearted business king who never forgave even the smallest mistake. His face was rarely seen by the public because he guarded his private life fiercely.

Adrian nodded, "I needed her to believe that her success here is solely based on her talent. I didn't want her to think that it was because of any favors or influence. And she's proving herself admirably." Michael leaned back, understanding Adrian's perspective. "Well, she's certainly making a mark here. Her designs are impressive, and the team values her contributions." "Also, I wanted to know how people treat me whether I have or have not money," Adrian added. Michael nodded in understanding. "It's a unique approach, Mr. Sterling. It must have been challenging for you to keep this secret from her, especially since she's your wife." Adrian and Michael continued their conversation as they wa

Each time, Sipho felt himself hollow slightly—like stone being carved into something deliberate. The results were undeniable. His wealth multiplied beyond rational explanation. Markets bent. Governments deferred. Entire industries shifted quietly around him. By forty, Sipho was a billionaire. The newspapers called him visionary. Ruthless. Lucky. None of them said Keeper. None of them saw the ledger. --- The final equation revealed itself that night, as Sipho stood alone in his private jet, looking down at clouds glowing gold beneath him. This is scale, the darkness said. This is what you were built for.

If I did, he would never let go. Sadists were like that. And Leon was the biggest sadist I knew. ========= Marcus’ POV. “Who went to his office?” “Leon Ralis.” “Who the fuck is Leon Ralis?” “Son of Sir Sinclair, the billionaire whose fortune is steeped in the art world, leading philanthropist and donor for tech development.” I stared at Shaw, my consigliere. He held my gaze. I knew the name, Sinclair. But I couldn’t understand why his supposed son, who didn’t bear the family name, was visiting Jayden, when the other son, the younger one, who did, was already working with Jay, on whatever contract they had signed.

“Well, you can pick any of the men here and see if it’s worth a shot. But, if you ask for my opinion on who you should go for…” He nudged his head over my shoulder. I turned around slightly and found another billionaire walk into the space. He took the attention of most people in the room. Buff, with a stoic expression. A tattoo peaked out of his folded sleeves. “Who is he?” I asked. “Sallion Perry.” I waited for more information but got nothing. “Is that all?” “He’s a billionaire,” Raymond said. “No job description?” “Oh, his name is just enough to get people riled up. People say…” Mathew leaned in then whispered. “He’s a black hat hacker, but no one has been able to prove it. Though I thin

It was a gambler's last shot, a reckless plunge into either riches or ruin. Amelia’s eyes flicked to the man who'd issued the challenge. He wasn't just anybody, he was a back-to-back champion of the life-or-death race, with nerves of steel and a skill set to match. Once a hopeless gambler drowning in debt, he'd clawed his way out through this madness and turned himself into a billionaire, now worth over eight billion. Dominating this kind of race two years in a row wasn't something luck could explain. It meant he'd probably taken part in the advanced version, the one where the car's system was wired to the racer's heartbeat, and if it spiked too high, the