Novel & Cerita The Billionaire Husband In Disguise

"Just give it a try." "Well honestly, with a staggering fifty million dollars in my bank account, I think I would get plastic surgery and start living under a fake identity." Samantha let out an exclamation that caught me off guard. "That's exactly what Alexandria would do!" My mouth opened in shock as I realized she was right. I had been so caught up in my own thoughts that I hadn't even realized it. I felt a flicker of hope ignite within me. If that's the case then I don't need to look further, Blackstone's new wife seems a little suspicious.

“I was never expecting you here.” Lucas chuckled,pulling off his glasses so he could stare at Luca properly “Didn’t you?” His gaze flickered to the grand stage where the Sinclair Holdings logo gleamed in gold. “I heard tonight was a special night. Thought I’d drop by and congratulate my ex-husband on his latest triumph.”

And I pathetically still love him. Why? I am scared as hell too. Why do things like these always happen to me? Why can't I have a bit of normal life? How could I never notice? Why didn't I look deeper? Was I that ignorant? Remembering what was in the files and letters, people described him as. A ruthless killer. A monster. A devil. I fell in love with a devil. He was the billionaire in disguise.

said someone who had dressed up as Hunter. Edgar disguised himself with an old face mask similar to Hunter's, a leather costume to cover his natural body shape and an old suit. He claimed to be Bhima, but in fact, he went alone. Bhima was already taken care of. When Bhima was told to turn around briefly by Edgar, Edgar quickly hit Bhima on the back of the neck and knocked him unconscious. Now, Bhima is sleeping in the patient's room instead of Edgar. After all, who would want his wife to be saved by someone else? The only person who could save Elissa was her husband, Edgar Zealand. "But you were normal before. Why are you in a wheelchair now?" asked the bodyguard suspiciously.

“What are you doing here Amal?” “It’s no longer mom? How rude have you become?” “Very rude, and you lost the privilege of being called mom.” “Fair enough.” “What do you want?” “Well, knowing who you are and after seeing the news about your husband’s real identity, I had to come to stop you from making the wrong move.” “What are you talking about?” “Ashley, Duke, your husband is the richest and most powerful in the whole fucking world. And now, because he didn’t tell you, you feel betrayed.”

I laugh quietly. I turn slightly so I can see him properly in the mirror. He’s already in his suit, jacket slung over his shoulder, tie loosened like he’s been pacing while waiting for me. There is a confidence to him that fills space without asking permission. The kind men like him learn early, polish over time, and wield without apology. My husband, the elusive billionaire... Vincent Calder. I know... I know... I can practically hear you sucking in a breath right now. I can feel the questions forming, stacking one on top of the other, demanding answers I haven’t given yet.

I cupped my chin and then he gripped my elbow with wide eyes. "That is great. Wh-" "I thought of it but its like so huge. Like it's really huge" The smile slowly wiped from my face as he looked me dead in the eye. "Your husband, he's a billionaire. Isn't he and he has the exposure. You have the exposure, Aal. It's going to hit and it's going to be amazing" He said and my voice died in the silence of my thoughts. "See?" He shrugged his shoulders before backing off, yet till somewhat close.

“That’s what’s going on. It’s the first step in getting away from lying scum like you.” “Ava, please, baby, let’s talk. Let me explain everything to you.” Ava chuckled humorlessly. It was funny how she had been probing him all this while, trying to know what he was hiding, and yet her mind could never have grasped this particular secret. She would never have guessed, even with a gun to her head: That her forced husband is a billionaire.

It felt like a stage. "So," I whispered to the empty, sunlit air. "My husband isn't a mechanic." I tossed the heavy envelope onto the glass coffee table. It landed with a satisfying thud. "He's the missing CEO of Cross Industries. He's dodging a multi-billion dollar tech acquisition. And he's in deep trouble with his terrifying grandmother." A slow, wicked smile spread across my face. I had married a ghost. A phantom billionaire who was running from his own empire, just like I was running from mine.

My husband is a billionaire. I’m not saying this to brag about how luxurious my daily life is. I just have one question—do all billionaires cheat? Like right now, his head is buried against the 36D breasts of a young woman sitting on his lap. From where I stand, the two of them look like some kind of ultra–postmodern sculpture titled Interrupted Sex. Before his hand could pull that blonde’s dress all the way up to her chest, I pushed open the door. Enough. I’m not some voyeur into multi-partner arrangements—especially not when the man in the scene is my own husband.