The Cold Billionaire Full Story Novels & Stories

“If I go there, he is going to hit on me. Do you want news, or do you want a scandal?” Kevin's grin only widened, as if I'd just presented him with the most delightful idea. "Emily, my dear, a little flirting from a German billionaire is a small price to pay for access. Use it! Charm him. Get the story. Von Oberhaus's personal life is a black box. His philanthropy, his infamous art collection, the rumors about his... particular tastes. That's the gold. Not another dry quote about market saturation." I stared at him. “I’m going to sue you.”

“You two street rats, will be lucky if you still have jobs by the end of the night. Hell, forget that, you’ll be lucky if you’re not in jail!” A silence fell over the bar, and a few patrons shifted uncomfortably in their seats. They all knew who Damon Coldwell was. They had all heard of Damon Coldwell Sr., the multi-billionaire who practically owned Southport city. He owned, Hotels, casinos, high-end clubs, real estate—there wasn’t an industry in town that the Coldwell name didn’t touch. Stories of his ruthlessness were practically legendary. Powerful people had crumbled under his threats, and those who dared to cross him found themselves blacklisted and left with nothing. More often than no

I would contact reporters and tell them about the billionaire who was pretending to be a working-class man to seduce his girlfriend's ex-wife. "This is going to be huge," I said to Bernard. "When this story gets out, it's going to ruin both of them. Richmond will lose his reputation and his business relationships. Vanya will be humiliated for being so stupid and naive." Bernard was looking at the papers with a mixture of disbelief and calculation. "Tracy," he said slowly, "if this guy really is a billionaire, maybe we should be more careful about how we handle this. Rich people have lawyers and resources that can make our lives very difficult."

"I never lied. I never knew who you were." "So you claim." His voice got quieter, more dangerous. "Here's what's going to happen, Ava. You're going to sign that agreement, or I'm going to use every resource at my disposal to prove you're an unfit mother. I'll have investigators crawl through every day of your life. I'll have child services examine every corner of that pathetic apartment you call home." "You can't just take him from me." "Can't I?" His laugh was bitter. "I'm a billionaire, Ava. I own half this city. If I want something done, it gets done."

"I was willing to forgive you." "Forgive me?" He laughed again, louder this time. "I don't need your forgiveness, you stupid bitch. I needed your company. And thanks to those papers you signed so eagerly, I already sold it. The funds hit my offshore account an hour ago." I staggered as his words hit me hard. I refused to believe he would do something like that. "You sold Vance Inc? Brian, that was my father’s life!" "And now it's my retirement fund," he snapped without a sign of remorse.

“Ahhh. That explains the look on your face. Spill. Now.” I narrated everything to her, spilling my guts about what happened today. “WOW!” She exclaims, leaning back in her seat, taking a sip of her wine. “He’s interested in you.” “Then, he has a funny way of showing it.” “I live to see this hate unfold into something else,” she said, a mischievous light sparking in her eyes. Typical Anastasia. “Whatever.” I taunted her. “This guy is a billionaire, Demetria — not just running hotels and casinos here in L.A., but across states, across countries. He practically owns the playgrounds of the rich.”

It was hungry and desperate and confused — like he was trying to remember what it felt like to want something. I kissed him back. One thing led to a coatroom. The coatroom led to his penthouse. His penthouse led to his bed, which was cold and white and big enough to lose yourself in. I lost myself in it. And in the morning, he was already gone. --- Present day The note was on the pillow. "Enjoyed the act. Name your price." Attached to it was a business card: Alexander Black, CEO, Black Industries. I'd seen that face on magazine covers. The youngest billionaire in New York. The man who fired his own father from the family company. The ghost who never smiled.

He commanded. I nodded my head. “This is my ATM card,” he snapped, handing the branded card. “It has enough money therefore buy whatever would make the birthday party interesting.” He suggested, I stood for a minute before I left. We left the mansion together before he dropped me at one of the shopping malls. The moment I entered the whispers increased, their eyes was all over me. I fist my hands unto the card while my legs shivered. “Aren't you wife of that billionaire that almost lost his daughter because of your carelessness?” One of the elderly ladies asked. I closed my face to avoid their glare further, our news was already in the public.

“Aria, Xavier is filthy rich. Thousands of women would kill to be in your position. Have you seen the hate comments women throw at you online? They're vicious. And yet, out of every woman in the world, he chose you.” I scoffed. “Because I'm easy. Because he knows that I'm broke and I need the money.” She sighed. “This person in question is known as the cold and ruthless billionaire.” Her voice was firm. “Self-centered. Emotionally unavailable. That's what they say about him. Every article. Every interview. Every rumor in the city of New York speaks of him that way.” I stayed quiet.

Chris wanted to roll his eyes but refused to do so. "Maeve Miller, CEO of MBC Bank and Finance and STB Corporation." Chris answered. "Heard that?" She asked mockingly. The old woman was about to attack her but Falcon who just entered the room, interfered between them and shielded Maeve from the old woman. "Oh! Chris forgot to mention something else about me!" She said making everyone's attention drawn back to her. "I am the wife of the man your family tried to assassinate," she said with a deadly glare towards the old woman.