The Cold Billionaire Full Story Novels & Stories

Peter didn't need to respond; from the look on his face and his silence, she already knew the answer. She realized he'd only courted her because of her status in life. He never truly loved her, but rather the wealth and status that came with being the owner of Miller Estate. She couldn't believe she'd been fooled, that she'd thought he genuinely liked her, that he'd loved her. She hadn't noticed that it was her wealth he'd loved all along. "You gold-digging asshole!" she spat at him, her anger and hurt boiling over. His eyebrows furrowed. "What did you say?' he asked her again."

Crish showed seriousness in his facial expression so Camellia could trust him again. “Don’t pretend to be sorry like this, I know, you don’t feel sorry at all. You are still afraid of losing all of your wife’s assets, right? The proof is that you are still afraid if I reveal all the scandals that you have done to me in the past, isn’t that right, Mr. Billionaire?” Camellia laughed evilly. It seems that she is no longer easy to be deceived because she has learned more from experience.

She had long, dark hair past her shoulders. Regina couldn’t close her mouth. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “I understand this guy taking a short sabbatical after losing such a beautiful woman, but seven years?” the female reporter remarked. “Yeah, and that house. The man is worth almost two billion bucks. You’d think he would hide somewhere more . . . fabulous,” the male reporter said, enunciating the last word in a high-pitched voice. “Yeah, like the Bahamas, or at the very least, Palm Beach,” the female reporter replied. “However, it is good news for the local single ladies that Scott lives so close, because according to our source, he is still on the market.”

Oliver whispered softly. ​Behind his warm smile, however, Oliver’s mind was already executing a cold, ruthless calculation. As soon as Vivian retired to her room for the night, Harrison and Eleanor were going to learn what happens when someone touches the Ghost Billionaire's wife.

All they knew was easy money, and they wouldn’t give that up. To avoid ending up in a worse situation, or having to find a job – which for them would be worse than death itself – they were involved in the biggest scam of all. They planned for Sandra to get pregnant by Adrian Trevellyan. And to be more specific, the owner of the house where my mother got a job last week. The man who almost caught me in his room. Later, I learned that he’s a billionaire from the oil industry who was in town for the construction of a pipeline nearby.

He got out of the car without his grandson’s help and closed the door. It was quite fun to watch the dynamic between the two men. Seeing them interact reminded me that William Caddel was just a billionaire. He was also someone’s son and grandson. When he was by his grandfather, he lost the cold domineering aura he usually had. It was intriguing to see different sides to him. It made me wonder how many more layers he had. He was a ruthless billionaire (all billionaires were). He was also a kind man who carried me to the hospital when I fainted. He was the considerate grandson who would go miles to fulfill his grandfather’s wish.

I asked in a very professional manner. "Daniel Bruno." His voice echoed and my hand froze while writing his name. "Daniel Bruno.” My lips moved. Smiling, he walked to the front of the desk, standing in front of me; he put his steel gray eyes into my curious gaze. "Yes, Miss Jane." He read my name from the name tag while smiling. "I own this place." He said and I trembled. He was Daniel Bruno, a famous ruthless billionaire. He was the owner of this place. He was standing in front of me.

right before I shattered. I read about him during slow periods—discreetly, on my phone behind the circulation desk. Articles from Forbes, Bloomberg, a few older profiles that called him “the ghost of Los Angeles finance.” Youngest self-made billionaire in the state. Ruthless in boardrooms. Invisible in tabloids. No scandals. No girlfriends photographed on red carpets. Just power. Quiet, absolute power. I was fucking a billionaire.

How I wish he was here to tell me all this was some sick imagination or dream. But ghost doesn't speak. “Who is he?” I asked, my eyes still fixed outside the window. She didn't answer. I didn't expect her to. She even dressed better than I did. “I deserve to know.” A long silence, then, “Was a man with influence, power and money.” “I believe that's not all to tell about him.” She sighed this time, irritated. “He was a billionaire. Cold, private and dangerous, some say.” My breath caught. “Dangerous?”

Mitchell asked " Why is it that people always think that billionaires don't have girlfriends or wives? " Diana asked " Uuhm haven't you read every other book that has a billionaire? Most of them don't want to get attached to someone or they just have a cold heart " Mitchell answered " And what if this rich billionaire has a cold heart? " Diana asked " Well every cold heart just needs some warmth and eventually it'll melt" Mitchell asked " You sound so sure. Maybe his heart is just too cold to melt" Diana said as she tried to discourage her best friend a little bit