Vengeful Billionaire And His Lovers Mga Nobela at Kwento

“we met in a business meeting. she was beautiful. had a small, petite body—just like you i blushed a little, even though my heart was heav i still wanted to know mor why did she leave why did he need a contract with me “i lost her to cancer last year,” he continued, his voice flat but hurting. “i promised myself i wouldn’t replace her. that i’d stay alone. that was until you came my chest tightene i finally understoo that was why he was cold. that was why he pushed people awa he wasn’t arrogan he was broken “i lost elena. i’m not losing you too, wife,” he whispere

"You vanished three months before our wedding. You were a multi-billionaire. You had entire blocks named after you. You built schools, funded hospitals... you ran half of Hudsonville from behind the curtain. And then you disappeared. Just like that." He blinked. "I don’t remember any of that." I leaned in, resting my chin on his chest. "You were everything. To everyone. But to me... you were just Kian. The man who loved tea more than coffee, who danced when no one was looking, who read poetry aloud on stormy nights." He chuckled. "Sounds dreamy." I nudged him gently. "Don’t mock." "I’m not," he said softly. "I’m just trying to understand. But none of that feels real to me. I can’t imagine my

Sophia's screams were silenced by the soundproofing of the sedan as it sped away into the night. When the sedan finally stopped, Sophia was pulled out and led into a grand, opulent mansion with her face tied. She was deposited into a lavish bedroom, where a figure waited in the shadows. As the figure stepped forward, Sophia's eyes widened in shock. It was Marcus Thompson, the reclusive billionaire his piercing gaze and chiseled features illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. "Sophia, you're even more beautiful than I imagined," "oh look at those curves.”Marcus said, his deep voice dripping with entitlement. "I've been waiting for you."

It was a death trap. He had planned this from the very beginning. Every tear had been calculated. Every sob, rehearsed—every loving word, a lie. My body had been nothing but a vessel to heal the woman he truly loved. And my death would be the final gift to fund their happily-ever-after. But they had made one fatal mistake. They had let me live long enough to uncover their web of lies. And now? Now I was done being the victim. They would pay for every drop of blood, every stolen breath, every shattered dream. I would make sure of it.

“Victor needs someone steady. Strategic. Not… attached.” Elena tasted blood where she had bitten her tongue. “You slept with him.” Serena smiled. “That’s usually how marriage starts.” The nearby guests pretended not to listen. Phones were raised anyway. Humiliation bloomed hot and suffocating. Victor checked his watch. “This is over. Leave.” Security began moving closer. Elena looked from him to Serena; at the diamonds, the silk, the stage that should have been hers, and understood something with brutal clarity.

She glanced at me when I came in and held up one finger and I went to the kitchen and made coffee and listened to her finish the call with the smooth, warm authority she deployed when she needed something from someone who was going to give it to her regardless. She came into the kitchen when she hung up. “How was Victor?” “Informative.” She looked at me. “What does that mean?” I set down the coffee. “He wants an engagement announcement. Three months.” Vanessa was very still for a moment. The composed face is doing its processing. Then: “With Lena.” “With Lena.” “That wasn’t the original timeline.” “No,” I said. “It wasn’t.”

"That was me. I had to make sure you'd have nothing of his." I began to vent with a heaving chest, saying, "But why? I trusted you. I loved you, Gina. I took you like a sister, you–" "Oh, shut your face hole," Gina snapped, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. "It has always been about you. Heather, this, Heather, that." Gina's eyes burned with hatred as she paused to have a once over at me. Her lips curled up in disgust. She continued, "You have always been stealing my shine. The world practically revolves around you. I fell in love with a man, and as usual, you snatched him from me simply because you were rich. And guess what?"

The dark figures standing in every corner of his empire cast their voices around with evil and planning for him to fall. The heart of it was Valentine. A fierce burning radiated out of her unyielding eyes. She did not know everything, and he feared if she ever knew would forgive him for it. It wasn't just him, however that posed a threat to her; it was the dangerous world he existed in. His enemies who were also hungry for power and vengeance had already put their crosshairs on her. For him, Valentine wasn't a human; she was merely a way to an end, a perfect pawn with which to dismantle his empire, brick by brick.

Zaria The look of hatred in Tristan King’s face is so potent that it feels like it’s burning me from inside out. I try to take in a deep breath, but it’s impossible. I force my body not to tremble in front of him even though I’m terrified by his words. Revenge. Tristan King is back and he wants revenge. And I’m his main target. I stare at him in silence. His face is as hard as stone, dark hair styled and slicked in a way that makes it look magnetic. His grey eyes burn with anger and hatred for me, chiseled jaw clenched so tight I wonder if he won’t snap it into two.

“It is because Henry is dysfunctional. He has lots of issues, your love will never be enough for him, and you will wind up feeling inadequate, hating yourself, from one woman to another, it wouldn’t be your fault then, you just picked the wrong billionaire to fall in love with.” She let go of Ashley and non-too subtly wiped her hands with a towel, she gave one last long look at Asher. “What a lovely little family you got there. Truth be told, I have no regrets at all...” She shrugged. “Except of course not killing you for even thinking you could take my husband away from me!” she spat and sauntered off.