The Billionaires Accidental Bride Read Online Novels & Stories

The perfect husband, telling my thoughts even before I tell him what I’m thinking. I don’t have your usual billionaire romance story where the CEO adopts her, takes her virginity and falls in love with her. In my story, I lost myself to Richard and he still dumped me. He destroyed everything we ever built together. He made me lose hope on love, influenced me to naming my daughter with a different man, “Hope”, an expression of what he made me go through, even before I could realise it.

The press release went out on Tuesday morning at precisely nine o'clock. I was at the bookstore when it happened, restocking the romance section and trying not to obsess over my phone. Christopher had texted me earlier to let me know the statement would be released within the hour, that his PR team had crafted something tasteful and straightforward. "Billionaire CEO Christopher Zane confirms marriage to Anastasia Reed, owner of Chapter & Verse Books. The couple wed in a private ceremony and are looking forward to building their life together. They request privacy during this time."

Outside, the city blurred into night; inside, the car hummed with a quiet that broke only when a notification buzzed on Elena’s phone—an alert of headlines and speculation already forming online. She opened it with hands that trembled only slightly and saw the first of the morning’s angles beginning to take shape. Her breath caught when she read a line that had begun its life as a whisper at the table and now sat bold and hungry on the screen: *“Billionaire’s bride: business move or true love?”*

I click the link, and as I do, I wish I had just left my phone at home. My heart stops as I read the information scrawled on the website, the information, as always, about Leone Ares Sinclair. And me. However, it’s Nicco who says the news out loud, his voice oddly empty as he does so; “New York’s hottest billionaire announces the date of his wedding to up—and-coming painter Ava Jade Allard. He says that his red-headed lover and himself will be getting wed in less than a month.” Three weeks. Leonel told the press we’re getting married in three weeks?

No affection. Just a billionaire who got what he wanted— And left her needing more.

Julian read the headline: "EXCLUSIVE: THE BLACKOUT WEDDING. Sources confirm billionaire Adrian Whitmore and Arabella Ashford were officially married two days ago in an ultra-private, highly secured location in the Hudson Valley, completely outsmarting high-society observers. The new Madame Whitmore is reportedly resting comfortably at an undisclosed honeymoon estate." The phone in Julian Vance’s hand felt suddenly hot and heavy as the bold text of the headline flashed like a physical blow. ...completely outsmarting high-society observers. The new Madame Whitmore is reportedly resting comfortably at an undisclosed honeymoon estate.

Without the money, the surgery would not happen. Without the surgery, my mother might not survive. I looked down at my phone again, my mind racing through every possible solution. There were none. My phone buzzed once more. Another message from an unknown number. I opened it slowly. One sentence appeared on the screen. I can solve your problems, Ava Bennett. Below the message was an address. And a name. My breath caught when I read it. Ethan Vale. The billionaire. The most powerful man in the city. A man whose name appeared in newspapers almost every week.

"I didn't expect to hear from you. Is the Windsor chase finally hitting the rocks?" I bristled at the use of my maiden name, but I forced the anger down. "This isn't about my marriage, Richard," I said, my voice cold, steady, and entirely empty of warmth. "I am giving you something much better. Something that will make your front page for the next three weeks." "I'm listening," he murmured. I could hear the faint, rhythmic clicking of his keyboard in the background as he settled in. "Katia Kensington," I said, leaning closer to the screen, my eyes locked on the white glow of the blank document. "The pristine, brilliant CEO of I* Technologies. The woman currently standing at the center of the

She read it. She stood in the doorway of the kitchen in the grey sweater and she read the headline and she felt the specific quality of something you have been managing against for thirty-seven days arriving anyway, arriving in the specific form you had imagined in the dark at three and four and five in the morning, arriving not as the feared possibility but as the accomplished fact. BILLIONAIRE FOOLED: BRIDE SWAP SCANDAL. Her face. Victoria's face. Side by side. Someone had done the work.

Dozens of no⁠tificat⁠ions, messages⁠, missed calls. And one headline that made my stomach‌ drop. “‍The Billionaire’s Bride: Love, Lies, and Leverag⁠e?⁠” T‌he article‌ had my n⁠ame in bol‍d letters. It‍ c⁠alled me a myster⁠y‍ wo‌man with no social backgr‌ound, a po‌ssible p‌aw‌n in a strateg‍ic‍ marriage, and worst o‌f all — it ques‌tioned if I h⁠ad “married into luxu‍ry” fo‌r money.