The Billionaires Obsession Novels & Stories

A place where no one could be trusted. The Obsidian Summit was a secret meeting held once every few months. Only eight men attended. Eight billionaires. Eight mafia leaders. Each of them controlled a territory, an empire of crime and wealth. Drugs, weapons, money laundering, assassins—they all had their fields. Zayn controlled the largest and most feared territory. His empire stretched farther than the others combined. It made him powerful, and it made him a target. They smiled at him in public. They praised him. But behind his back, they spat poison.

She shook her head, muttering, “Get a grip, Sophia. They’re just rich boys. Nothing more.” Tess leaned forward, whispering, “Or maybe something more… far more dangerous than we expected.” And at that moment, across the room, the four billionaires locked eyes with the women for the first time. A spark ignited—a collision of curiosity, attraction, and unspoken history. The night was alive, pulsing with music, lights, and anticipation. And none of them—neither girls nor boys—had any idea how much their lives were about to change. Luke raised his glass again, smirk curling his lips. “This is going to be fun,” he murmured to his friends.

Leaning back into my chair, I asked softly, “Do you know what happens to men who steal from me?” “I didn’t steal…” “...twenty thousand dollars missing,” I cut in with a calm voice. “And the supplier in Marseille suddenly goes AWOL right after you call him? That’s not a coincidence.” Slamming his hand against the table, he yelled, “You think you’re untouchable because you wear the Ledger name? You’re nothing, just a spoiled heir who inherited his father’s kingdom!” His voice echoed across the glass walls and I felt my patience snap like a taut wire.

"Don't ask me that. Life goes on, Callix. We don't have to dilly dally. Let's just find out a way to fix this." "I don't know how we can find a way to fix this, Michelle." "That's why I called you. I thought I had this under control, but Ashram has corralled billionaires from the Los Angeles billionaires club. Guess that's what's giving him his new found mojo." "Billionaires club?" I asked. I had heard of something like that before. But I never stayed too long in the country so never did get any invite. I wondered if I would have to talk to a couple of people to see if they could let me in.

“You sound like an old woman. Come on, Clara. We’ll just go for a bit—one drink, one dance. You might even find inspiration for your interview tomorrow.” I gave her a side-eye. “Inspiration? At a nightclub?” She grinned. “Inspiration or a rich man—same difference.” I couldn’t help laughing. “You’re ridiculous.” “I’m serious!” she said, pointing at me with her makeup brush. “This is New York—the city of miracles, money, and mistakes. You never know who you’ll meet.” “I already know who I’ll meet,” I said. “My future boss. Elias Thorne—billionaire CEO, known playboy, and rumor has it he fired his assistant because she brought him coffee that was ‘too sweet.’”

I shoved it into her hands. “I don’t eat from the same plate twice,” I said. I opened the car door and threw her out. She screamed, “Are you serious?” I drove off as if nothing happened. Driving through the streets of California early in the morning, I thought about the life I had. Being a billionaire and the son of one had its benefits—and its costs. So many privileges, so many responsibilities, so many demands. But I lived the good life. Luxury, power, influence, dominance.

“So, this was your intention all along? You wanted to toy with my family just to corner me, so I'd be left with no choice but to run to you and sign this stupid shit, but guess what? I'm not signing it, you old fuck! You'd have to find another desperate guy to satisfy your fucked up, sexual twisted fantasies because it definitely ain't me!” Neither his smirk nor his calm and relaxed composure ever faltered, and that made me even more pissed. Fucking, sick psycho faggot! I keep saying it, billionaires are the most disgusting and twisted creatures on earth, and this one right here just proved it. “Very well, then.” He said in a cool tone, unfazed. “You can leave.” “You bet I will!” I shot at h

If only they knew what he said to her. “Listen, I know I shouldn't have hit him, but he deserved it!” They both stared at her as though she said something ominous. Katrina walked up to her with so much anger in her eyes. “Do you know the guy you hit is the most powerful and influential Mafia billionaire in the whole of Southampton?” At that moment, Paula panicked. She missed her step and staggered backwards. No way, it can't be that she's gotten herself into a deeper trouble.

"You could've just bought me flowers, or chocolates, or a teddy bear or even some expensive champagne or wine! But a private jet? You bought me a private jet?" He tilted his head, looking at me with amusement shining in his eyes, "that's the perks of going out with a billionaire, sweetheart. Get used to it, because I'm just getting started." Before I could respond or snap out of my shock, a loud shout of excitement broke through the space, "hello party bitches! Are y'all ready to get all the way fucked up?!" I turned to see Stanley confidently striding into the private jet with cases of alcohol as he grinned excitedly at me. "Oh yeah! Let's get drunk off our minds!"

Karis has flown back to his apartment in California untied states after his meeting with the other members of the billionaire club. After he had finished from Harvard, he had made a vow to himself to build his own legacy. His father came from a long line of what the twenty first century could safely refer to as the aristocrats. Of course, they were not title holders or anything that grand, but the Ilobi were filthy rich, and the wealth could be traced to as far back as the nineteenth century, then there was his father. His mother's was the typical grass to grace story, she had been a normal kid, attending public school, and had been the valedictorian in her graduating class. She had taken t