Submitting To My Billionaire Ex Wife Novels & Stories

“Yeah thanks thats money talking “, I said. “You married Charlie Hearth? Like everyone knows he is a sad billionaire, he doesn’t show his face at all, because he is sad and thats who you married? Because of money? But you’re not poor Alice, you’re doing real good for yourself, like why would you do that to yourself?”. “I just got retired by my “sad billionaire husband “ he asked me not to go to work anymore unless it’s by invitation, and Im getting an extra 2 million to do that, I don’t care what you think “.

I wish I could just move on like it's nothing but I can't. It's so unfair that I am a billionaire and I have all the money in the world, yet I can't keep a steady relationship or marriage. Divorce twice and now Emily is leaving me just two weeks to the wedding and even though I have been nothing but good to all my ex's, I am the one getting all the backlash for their wickedness.

Some articles described Mia as a woman trapped between two different men, while others shamelessly revealed Jim’s identity as the billionaire’s long-lost son without showing even the slightest concern for his privacy. My jaw immediately tightened because I could tolerate attacks directed toward me, but I refused to allow anyone to drag my son into a public spectacle. Jim had done nothing wrong, and he deserved the chance to grow up without becoming entertainment for gossip magazines and online tabloids. I pressed another number before waiting only a few seconds for someone to answer. “Good morning, Mr. Black,” my head attorney answered professionally. “There is nothing good about this mornin

My hands folded into fists. Greg has crossed the line with this divorce and I am going to make sure that he pays for everything he has done to me. It wasn't enough that I had to vent my anger. I needed to show him what it felt like to be humiliated the way he did to me. My phone beeped and I checked the notification to see if it was a headline. I shouldn't be concerned about any headlines on the news but this one struck me with a bright idea. 'Collins Penta, CEO of Rush Luxury had arrived in New York City for a meeting'

"I am the one who decides who is replaceable. And today, I have replaced you with myself.” The broadcast cut to the Hamilton logo. The stock market opened, and the ticker at the bottom of the screen showed the Hamilton Global line shooting upward like a rocket. Ryan slumped against the barricade. A reporter shoved a microphone into his face. "Mr. Voss! Are you really her husband? Did you know she was a billionaire? How does it feel to be the man who lost the Iron Queen?" Ryan didn't answer. He couldn't. He watched as a black SUV pulled up to the curb. Silas Vance stepped out. He didn't look at the press. He walked straight to Ryan and handed him a small, plastic bag.

‘Anyway, that’s why I have bad news for you, son. ‘What is it?’ He relayed, with dramatic emphasis, the conversation he had overheard. He repeated her declarations verbatim: ‘never date a billionaire,’ ‘not worth the trouble,’ ‘attracts their fair share of obsessed fans and stalkers.’ He concluded with her stated preference for a ‘peaceful life with a normal man… a nice, simple, un-powerful man.’ I fell silent. The irony was a sharp, cold blade. Here I was, meticulously engineering Cary’s permanent exile from her life, and I had already been disqualified on principle.

“You’re going to play a role…. my wife. For the cameras, for the media, for the world.” She blinked. “Excuse me?” “My last… complication just died,” I said, tone low. “And her husband’s suing me. The company’s stock is going to tank by noon unless I give the press something cleaner to talk about.” “And that’s me?” “Congratulations, you catch on quick.” She laughed once, disbelieving. “This is insane.” I tilted my head. “You broke into a billionaire’s office in ripped jeans and a fake résumé. Let’s not pretend sanity was ever part of your brand.”

To millions of anonymous people who know absolutely nothing about the truth, I am the bitter, desperate slut who simply couldn't let go of her billionaire ex-husband. Sitting in the back of a dark airport cab, watching the rain streak the window, I finally put my head in my hands and weep.

I liked it better that way. Tabitha went still, her pen paused in midair, mouth slightly open. She’d come in hoping for juicy personal drama and stumbled into the seismic kind. It’s wild how one line can completely shift the mood in a room. “You own part of your ex-husband’s company?” she asked, stunned. “No.” I held her gaze. “I own a controlling stake in an undervalued asset. That’s all. My marriage isn’t part of the equation.” I let the quiet hang there. “Just business.”

“Yvonne, you’re twenty-eight, not eighteen. What’s the point in not admitting that you came all the way to my workplace to see me?” The fires of my rage reached my head, and I could no longer stay calm. I looked into his eyes and hissed, “My husband is about to transfer all his assets to me. I came here to ask about the laws related to it. As for chasing after you? Clark, you’re just an ex that I don’t even want to admit I ever had. Don’t you think it’s not appropriate for you to flatter yourself so much?” The entire place burst into a commotion.