The Cold Billionaire Novels & Stories

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.

A string quartet performed something refined Fiona couldn't identify. Valeria inched closer. "You see that man by the balcony?" Fiona turned her way. A man stood alone among the glittering throng. Tall, expensively dressed in a black suit and no tie. Hair slicked back with effortless care. Hands in his pockets. Eyes like winter. "That's Charles Billion," Valeria breathed. "Owns half of the production houses in Asia. You ever heard of Red Flame Studios? That's him." "The Charles Billion? Valeria nodded. "Billionaire. Producer. Philanthropist. Rumor has it, he can make or break a career in one phone call. Be careful, though—he doesn't smile. Ever."

His gaze was cold, yet his charismatic aura silenced the crowd. Kimmy’s eyes widened. That man was not the fifty-five-year-old she had been told about. Kimmy’s heart pounded harder. She truly couldn’t understand. When she finally reached the altar, the man’s name rang clearly as the pastor introduced him. “Mr. Grayson Vanderbilt Blackwood.” Kimmy froze, her eyes growing wide. Grayson Vanderbilt Blackwood. The name was not unfamiliar. The richest young man in the capital, a billionaire known for his coldness, cruelty, and constant presence in business magazines and on television. Rumors even said he often changed partners.

At his side was a girl in a plaid skirt, a backpack bouncing on her shoulder, chattering away as though she didn’t notice the chill that clung to the man walking beside her. My eyes narrowed. Recognition slammed into me. The rude stranger from yesterday. The man who sent my bag flying without so much as a sorry. Mr. Evans. Of course. Because my life wasn’t already tragic enough — the universe just had to make the brooding billionaire my neighbor. I muttered under my breath, “Unbelievable.” His head turned, sharp and precise, and our eyes locked. For a moment, something flickered there. Guilt, maybe. Or annoyance. He opened his mouth, voice lower than I expected. “About yesterday—”

I needed the dopamine, I just needed something for myself again. Wow his Mansion is so huge, who is this guy? A secret CIA that needs a one night stand to move on with his life and release the sperm or what? Fuck! What do I care, at least his hot enough and from the look of things he is rich enough to lay with me not bad for a one night stand. I got in his bed, the huge bed in white bed sheets, so dressed and pressed, the house so arranged and everything in white and grey, wow.

Mark said as he draped his coat over her and she turned to look at him with hope in her eyes for the first time in a while. “Who is he?” She asked and he let out a sigh before leaning on the wall as she peeked outside. “Seth Valdez, the richest billionaire in Colorado, no, in the whole USA. He gave a hundred million dollars just like that, what do you think?” He asked and her eyes rounded in surprise as she stared at Mark with a hint of happiness in her expression. “Is he violent? Wicked? Mean?” She asked and when he remained silent, she sighed in despair as her excitement faded away. So he was just like the humans after all.

"Right! Celeste deserves better!" I swallowed hard. Now I remembered him. Sebastian Whitmore — the CEO of Whitmore Corporation, the most powerful company in the country. But despite his success, his reputation was terrible. He was known for never having a wife, never even being linked to anyone. Rumors swirled that he was either impotent… or gay. "Did you know about this?" Mia asked. I shook my head slowly. "No." But then I remembered my mother’s call — and dread curled in my stomach.

I couldn't reject the offer about the personal assistant work which I saw on the sign board hours ago. Kara rasped in as they glared at each other. "Do you think it's the company of..." MR Anthony" the youngest wealthy billionaire of this country? Nova redolent so as Eliana nodded her head. " It could be nova" I also saw the post online this morning.

"The loan sharks get their money, you get your legacy back, and I get my heirloom. It’s a transaction, Elara. Purely business. No feelings, no real intimacy. Just a signature on a different kind of paper." I looked at Silas, who looked dangerous with those eyes pinned on me. I thought of Brian who ruined my life and the loan sharks waiting to devour me. I would give anything to have my father’s company back. But I was scared. If I said yes, I was a billionaire’s wife with all my problems solved but at the expense of my happiness. And if I refused, I was as good as dead. I licked my dry lips and swallowed hard before speaking up. "Will you really get my company back?" I asked, my voice small.

Now wasn't the time to act soft. "At the end of the day, it's my money, and I'm the one who gets to do what I want with it. The answer is no, Miss Hale. this is an investment company, not a charity for people who can't afford it." she narrowed her eyes at me, and my heart skipped a beat. "You are a billionaire, I'm sure that amount of money is pocket change for you." I chuckled a bit because she was right. "That still doesn't mean that I'm going to donate anything, leave and come up with something that I can make money from, not lose it." With that, she turned away and walked out, leaving me smiling since it seemed as if I'm on my way with winning that bet already.