Submitting To My Billionaire Ex Wife Novels & Stories

"You decided to cut my five hundred million allowance. This is nothing. It is just a drop in the ocean. You will marry Sonia because she will ensure that I am at least taken care of since my son wants to see me living from hand to hand." "That's silly. You and I know that you have so much money than that. My father left you hundreds of millions in one of his offshore accounts. Even before that, you had investments in your name. You can't tell me that you're doing this for some change." "If you don't want to get married to Sonia, then you will double the money that I was getting as allowance." "That's one billion a year."

Her expression held an unnatural stillness, an eerie calmness that hints at the chaos She was capable of unleashing. Nova understood the assignment. She was trying to bring her down in front of the press. “Yes. Four years ago, I was married to Zephyr Lockwood”. She started, as It was better she brought herself down than for someone else to do so. And as soon as she said his name, everyone was gasping for air. “Zephyr was your ex-husband?”. A reporter from the back questioned. His name couldn't be called anyhow. He was someone everyone in New York and California is fearful of. How did she…? His thoughts swirled inside of him.

I stood there, phone pressed to my ear, listening to the dial tone, feeling like the ground had just disappeared beneath my feet. I fucking promised that I was going to be his wife if he gets this job done, and he failed. He fucking failed? So why is he angry now? He needs to finish the job, he loves me… he should do what I want… I’ll marry him when he is done killing Cynthia. What the fuck! I took my phone and opened the browser, The plan was to spread implicating news about Walker Industries on the net, as cover while he attacks from the background, it was dark and desperate and possibly insane, but what did I have to lose at this point?

The volume was muted, but the bold headline running across the bottom of the news channel made my stomach churn. “Billionaire CEO, Grayson Grant Spotted with Vanessa Harlow at Monarch Hotel.” For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

She blurted out which made Mom flare at her shutting her up. She stood up, "Wish you the best of luck." She said going into her room. I had expected she'd have gotten better since all these while but guess some things just never change. I knew I was introduced as a girl who just come back from the countryside to Henry because of our marriage and so that he wouldn't say I got married to him to seek more alliance between him and my dad's company. I'm the heir to my dad's company and we are the second topping the billionaire chart in the USA but I just wanted to be ordinary to him so he'll love me just the way I want him to.

Christine snapped, “you weren’t. The press are already having a field day. Do you realize what you’ve done? You made a spectacle of yourself-of us! Fighting Blackwell like some drunken street thug!” “Enough, Mother.” “No, not enough!” She strode closer, her heels striking against the marble. “Do you want to hand our rivals the narrative? ‘Ashbourne heir unhinged, brawling over his ex-wife.’ Is that what you want the world to see?” Something inside him snapped. He raised his head, meeting her eyes with a ferocity she hadn’t seen in years. “I don’t care! I don’t care what they think or don’t think! Do you want to know the truth? Fine. I fought because I still love her. I still love Scarlett.”

"Look! I brought fifty-one percent of the Thorne Group shares! Come with me, sign this, and the entire Thorne family is yours! I can give you double, ten times what Valerius can!" The crowd went into an uproar. No one expected the once-mighty tycoon of Wall Street to actually put his entire fortune on the table as a bargaining chip to win back his ex-wife. Valerius's face darkened, and he moved to step forward, but I stopped him. Wearing a red "battle dress," I stood on the steps, looking down at the man who resembled a stray dog. "Caspian, you are pathetic." I spoke into the microphone, my voice ringing clearly across the plaza.

An ordinary afternoon that had no business feeling this good. A family that wasn't really a family. A wife who wasn't really mine. She caught me staring. "What?" "Nothing." "You're staring." "Allowed to look at my wife." Color rose in her cheeks. "Fake wife." "Still my wife." "You're impossible." "So I've been told." For the first time in longer than I could remember, I wasn't Adrian Blackwood the billionaire everyone tiptoed around. I was just a man spending his afternoon with two people who'd become important to me somewhere along the way, without my noticing exactly when.

Isabella's POV The morning after the gala, my face was on every news site and social media platform in the country. "The Lost Morrison Heiress Found." "Billionaire's Long-Lost Granddaughter Revealed." But my favorite headline was from a gossip blog: "Marcus Wei's Biggest Mistake: He Divorced a Morrison." I read that one three times before I started making calls. It was time to stop playing defense. Time to attack. I woke up in my bedroom at the Morrison estate to my phone vibrating nonstop.

He groaned and pushed me back onto the rug, hovering over me, his towel still low, my shirt riding up. "My genius wife who tortures me," he murmured, kissing my forehead, my nose, my lips slow. "Do you know what I thought all day in that boardroom after you left?" "What?" "That my 22-year-old wife saved my fifty million dollar deal in my shirt, barefoot, and then went home to write kissing scenes about me. And some other man gets to read them before I do." "I send you first! Always you first!" "Then why does Marcus get a call at night and I get a sandwich at lunch?" He pouted. Actual pout. Caelum Vane, 32, billionaire, pouting on my rug.