The Billionaires Unwanted Bride Novels & Stories

"You want to be in my world, Serena? Then show me you belong here. Tonight, you’re not just my date you’re my statement. Every woman in that room will want to be you, and every man will wish they had you. If you fail, you walk away from this deal, and I won’t lift a finger to help you again." She had scoffed at his arrogance at the time, but now, as she stepped into the grand ballroom of the Blackwood estate, she felt the weight of his challenge. The event was a gathering of the city’s elite billionaires, heiresses, politicians, and models draped in designer gowns that cost more than most people’s yearly salaries. And at the center of it all, Ben Blackwood, the man who owned the city’s wealt

The news was everywhere, impossible to ignore, and the images made it even worse, because they showed exactly what I never wanted to see. Alexander and Alliyah had gotten engaged, and not in any simple or quiet way, but in a display so extravagant and excessive that it was meant to be seen, meant to be talked about, meant to leave an impression that could not be forgotten. The proposal itself was nothing short of ridiculous in its scale, with millions of dollars spent as if it were nothing, drones filling the sky in carefully orchestrated patterns while real flowers, roses by the thousands, covered everything in a way that made it look almost unreal, like something designed to provoke envy.

The stranger who was somehow going to make all her pain disappear. And it begins.... Raya Bridges stood in the midst of the large crowd completely frozen with a dinner tray in her hand. She was unsure of what to do or say. What was supposed to be just another day at work had gone very unexpectedly. “My dear, please consider my offer, marry my son Raphael.” Fredrick Renolds said again. “Uhm… Uhm… I… I” Raya stuttered. The whole scenario felt so surreal to her, she could not understand why Fredrick Renolds who happened to be the wealthiest man in West Hartford would want her as his daughter in-law.

“You—you’re what?!” “Married,” I repeated more quietly, my chest tightening. “To him. It was arranged. It’s not—” I shook my head. “It’s complicated. And very confidential. You cannot breathe a word of this to anyone, Riley.” Her jaw dropped again. “Are you telling me you’re Mrs. Montgomery? As in… Montgomery Group, richest man alive, headlines-every-week Montgomery?” I winced. “Yes. That one.” “Oh my God.” She dragged her hands down her face, staring at me like she didn’t know me anymore. “Do you realize what kind of bomb you just dropped on me? You—”

“And this has to do with me?” “I want you to marry me.” The café seemed to tilt. She laughed. Loudly. “That’s insane.” He reached into his coat and placed a folded document on the table. A check. Her laughter died. The amount made her dizzy. Half a million dollars. “I’ll cover your mother’s medical bills,” he said. “All of them. Immediately. The rest is yours.” Her hands trembled. “You don’t even know me.” “I don’t need to.” “That’s supposed to convince me?”

“I’m genuinely serious about the deal. My grandfather demands that I marry within thirty days, or I lose Blackwood Industries to my corrupt brother, Williams.” The name hit me like a slap on my face. Williams. I had heard rumors about him very cold, greedy. And also The most ruthless of the Blackwood family. Xavier continued, “The offer is very simple. Three million dollars to be my wife. Strictly a business deal. No feelings. No attachment. Just a signature. Fourteen months. Then we part ways.” “Why me?” I asked directly, my voice cracking. “You were chosen because you have no ties to anyone powerful or dangerous,” he replied. “And you have no interest in my money. Those qualities make you

He was only a few inches apart from me, I could sense the possessiveness written all over his face. "What do you mean by I am yours?" I asked staring at him in disbelief. Dominic sighed in response. "You must marry me, Either that or I ruin you. I am giving you a choice now, choose wisely." He said boldly. My goodness, even his pride irritated me. He carried himself with so much high regard, way too much that it made me really annoyed. Who did he really think he was? A billionaire? So what? He did not own my life. Marrying him was the last thing I would do.

That means you cannot marry your beloved future Luna, even though you’ve been in a relationship for three years. “I have a strong feeling that she will give birth to a daughter and we will divorce.” Meazus stood up from the black metallic sofa and left, leaving her uncle still smirking at Meazus' unchanging nature—stubborn and a bit arrogant. Two weeks later, the wedding was finally held, and all the wedding expenses were covered by the groom's side. The white decorations symbolizing the purity of the marriage were merely decorations in Meazus' eyes. The luxurious wedding stage, reminiscent of a European royal wedding, made it seem as though both parties desired the marriage, even though the

We didn’t look like two drunk idiots playing pretend. I looked up at Eric and said, “We’re screwed. “Completely, and utterly fucked.” My heart was pounding and then, I read the caption below the video: “British Billionaire Heir Marries Mystery Woman in Miami.” That one sentence was bold enough to punch my soul straight out of my body. I blinked at first, then blinked again. British… what? Billionaire… Who? “What—?” I choked out, staring at the screen like it might suddenly correct itself.

Leo whispered, scratching itchy hoodie, "we will be happy in penthouse later, with no mold, but with memory of mold. Like your parents happy in penthouse now with memory of instant noodles. Mold is our instant noodles." "Do you think our baby will hate billionaires too?" Rose asked, hand on still-flat stomach, false alarm last month but now trying for real? No, not yet, art school first. "Our baby will hate billionaires but have £240B and two buildings for strollers. And will wear Primark under Dior. And will say No as first word, like your brother." Rose laughed, kissed him, itchy pajamas rustling. Outside mold flat window, in Shoreditch rain, two black Bentleys parked far, with two billion