Novel & Cerita The Billionaire And His Son Want Me Back

"Oh? Is that so?" The butler continued, "Since realizing you've completely disappeared, he's used every connection to find you. He even turned that basement in Brooklyn upside down and harassed your former landlord and coworkers. Now, he's offering a hundred million dollar reward just to find your whereabouts." "A hundred million?" Leopold scoffed, slamming his wine glass onto the table. "He's certainly generous now. When my daughter gave birth to Alaric and suffered with him, he wouldn't even pay a few hundred bucks for medical bills! What's the point of acting devoted now?"

“I hope Lawrence doesn’t find you. Move to a different place after your grandfather’s surgery.” “That’s exactly what I’m thinking. I’m scared he might look for me. I don’t even know anything about them. I don’t know what they’re capable of.” “For your information, Lawrence is a billionaire. He’s the only son and his father is in the Mafia.” I was speechless after Sir Anthony dropped me off. The words billionaire and Mafia kept echoing in my head. “Are you alright, my dear?” My grandfather tapped me gently and sat beside me. “If you're worried about the money for my treatment---”

It was hungry and desperate and confused — like he was trying to remember what it felt like to want something. I kissed him back. One thing led to a coatroom. The coatroom led to his penthouse. His penthouse led to his bed, which was cold and white and big enough to lose yourself in. I lost myself in it. And in the morning, he was already gone. --- Present day The note was on the pillow. "Enjoyed the act. Name your price." Attached to it was a business card: Alexander Black, CEO, Black Industries. I'd seen that face on magazine covers. The youngest billionaire in New York. The man who fired his own father from the family company. The ghost who never smiled.

“My only son gets married and I don’t even get to show him off? No. You will come back. You will have the wedding I want. And you will bring my grandson so I can meet him properly. End of discussion!” Rhea looked at me, eyebrows raised, silently asking what I wanted to do. I leaned closer to the phone, still smiling. “Dad… we’ll come back. But the wedding will be on our terms too. Not just yours.” There was a pause on the other end. Then my father let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Fine. But it better be grand. I’ve already started making calls. Don’t disappoint me, son.” He hung up. Rhea stared at her phone for a second, then looked at me with wide eyes. “Did your father just… demand a billion

I was sick and tired of everything—this wheelchair, this house— I was tired of it all. Taking in deep breaths, I wheeled towards the guest room where my new 'wife' was currently staying. I knew she was probably ecstatic to learn that she would be marrying the billionaire's crippled son. Just like the last two, her next plan would probably be to kill me and take over my property. A man who couldn't even get an erection was as good as useless to them whether or not it was Alexander Forger. They were all here for the money, and I knew this one was no different.

Mason teased before hanging up the phone. I shook my head, my lips stretching into a smile, as I picked up my car key and rose to my feet. My father was a multi-billionaire before his death, and his name still stands out, but that doesn't mean I don't work for my own money, without his influence, I was and will continue to be a multi-billionaire. I shoved my hands back into my pocket as I made my way out of the VIP section. I took a deep breath and increased my pace, heading toward the exit

he says. “Thank you.” “So, you got divorced then?” he asks, drowning more of his liquor. “Uhm…” I lick my lips. “Yeah, I did. That’s why I left Chicago.” I don't know if the lie is worth it, but I sure don’t know how to say that I tried to divorce my billionaire husband but couldn’t — because he's powerful, connected, and makes it feel like the world spins at his will. “I’m so sorry about your divorce,” Lionel says. “At least I’m here. I can help you,” he adds, like I’m a patient and he’s the doctor ready to patch me up. It wants to sound funny but it doesn't. Not in this situation I'm in.

The staff, done with caution, moved in to throw me out. I broke free from their grip, my voice a low growl. "Back off. Don't touch me. I'm here with Jim Lawrence, the billionaire. He's my dad!" Laughter rippled through the onlookers. Henry, smirking, could not resist a jab. "The billionaire's son? That's a Branford University grad who's practically running the Lawrence empire after just two years back home.

He was truly the most influential man in the country and also a philanthropist. “So you think you can be my saviour because of your money?” I asked in a harsh tone. “You think you can throw money around and everything will be fine, huh? Tell me.” “No. I can be a saviour because I'm your father.” I looked sharply at his face for any signs of joke but he wasn't joking.

“Who says you don't deserve a better life like everyone else?” His words struck something deep inside me, and without meaning to, I sank back into the seat, folding my hands nervously between my thighs. I sat stiffly beside him, fully aware of his intense gaze… until my phone buzzed in my bag, startling us both. I picked it out with shaky hands and my heart almost gave out when Don Valentino's name flashed across the screen. He was a ruthless mafia billionaire who had loaned my father a huge sum before his death. There was no doubt in my mind why he was calling. He wanted his money.