The Unwanted Billionaire Heiress Novels & Stories

I gripped the edge of the table. The screen cut to a split graphic. Left side: Giselle’s recent headshot, elegant, composed. Right side: a grainy still from security footage—Octavia standing over an open grave, face half-turned toward the camera, and unmistakable. The headline crawler at the bottom scrolled in bold red letters: BILLIONAIRE HEIRESS NEARLY BURIED ALIVE BY STEPSISTER. I grabbed my phone and dialed Giselle’s number, but it went straight to voicemail.

If only Elena knew what games she was playing with me, she wouldn't have agreed to participate at all… because she was only to end up with a broken heart once it was all over. Damien didn't want her or me for who we were because he didn't give a fuck about love or personality. All he wanted was the heiress of Hale Dynasty because it was the third biggest company in the country. Elena, as foolish as she was, hadn't realized that yet. That was why he still had her wrapped around his fingers. I, on the other hand, wasn't going to let him have a dime from the wealth my parents worked hard to grow. I was going to take him down right after making my sister see him for who he was; nothing but a sel

Isn't this the place where the famous billionaire lived? I stepped back. Oh no, Dorothy. What are you thinking? Are you planning on applying as a maid here? But there's nothing I can do. I need money for my mom. "Goodness, it's getting out of hand." I heard a man spoke behind me so I turned to face him. My eyes widened when I saw him! The famous billionaire! Danmar Bertrand! Am I really seeing him now? He isn't inside a tv screen, a billboard, a painting and anything else? Is he really in front of me?

"The boy's genetic sequencing is royal property. Hand him over, and I will allow you to stay with your billionaire husband to birth the twins. The Ministry only requires the firstborn heir to secure the treaty." "He is my son," I snapped, my grip tightening on the gun handle. "He doesn't belong to a crown, and he doesn't belong to a treaty. You take one step into this vehicle, and I will blow this tunnel sky-high." "You won't," Eleanor West scoffed, raising the detonator. "Because if you die, your board instantly hands over forty percent of Vance Global to my daughter Vivian. We win either way, Alex." "Look at your tracking device, Eleanor," I said, a cold smile breaking through the dirt and

“At least I am getting married into a powerful family, and you are not!” “Oh… you think you are?” She smirked. “It’s high time you snapped out of your fantasy and embraced the reality that Emmerson Winters will never love nor accept you as his wife!" “And yes, you really don’t have to worry about me…" She flaunted her diamond-ringed finger in front of me. “Zach proposed, and not only will I be becoming Mrs. Rogers in three months, but I will also be the only heir to Mom’s empire.” “And you? You will have nothing to show but a love-less marriage of convenience.” She snickered, leaving me alone to my misery.

No—they were here to visit their long-lost younger sister, the girl who had been missing for nearly two decades, only found a few months ago after years of searching. No one knew who she was. No one knew where she had been all this time. But everyone wanted to know. The topic dominated every conversation, every social media feed, every whisper in ballrooms and cafes. Even the Miller family—one of Antalya’s old-money clans, proud, arrogant, and convinced of their own superiority—had heard the rumors. They, too, wondered who this mysterious Sever heiress could be, and what kind of power she would wield now that she was back with her family. What they did not know—what they could never even beg

Irreconcilable differences. That was all her marriage was worth to him. Three years. A secret courthouse wedding. Three years spent living as a shameful secret because the billionaire Voss dynasty would never accept a woman from her background. Because he was too afraid to choose between her and his world. Three years of eating dinner alone when he worked late, of making his bed every morning because he liked the pillows arranged a certain way, of saying I’m his wife only inside her own head because she had no one else to say it to.

As if the woman lying in pain wasn’t his wife. Hazel lay there on the cold floor, surrounded by scattered clothes. The maid wanted to help but was afraid of Xander. The pain in her body was nothing compared to the pain in her heart. She looked at the ceiling, her vision getting dark. How long can I endure this? she thought weakly. I am the Billionaire’s Unwanted Wife. I have everything money can buy, yet I have nothing at all. No love. No respect. No care. But even then, she was still holding on. She was still hoping… maybe… just maybe… one day, he would look at her and see her worth.

I whispered under my breath. I clicked one. “That woman is dangerous. She should be arrested immediately.” I hadn’t processed the first one when another popped in, “Rich people think they can cover up crimes.” “Where is the missing heiress? Start with Grace Parker.” My grip tightened on the phone. “That’s not true,” I muttered. Another notification popped in, “ she’s acting innocent but she knows something.” I exhaled sharply and locked the screen. I barely knew anything about her But even as I said it, something unsettled me because the missing heiress…

Two years, that's all we're asking. Just a formality. Just two years of my life tied to a man who probably couldn't pick me out of a lineup. Alexander Knight, the infamous tech billionaire who made his first million at nineteen and his first billion at twenty-three. I'd seen the tabloids different woman every week, cold as ice in business, never smiled in photos. The man was basically a robot in a expensive suit. "And what does Alexander think about all this?" I asked, still not turning around. There was a pause. Too long of a pause.