The Idiotic Billionaire

The Alpha King's Ugly Bride

"Take off your clothes, I want to see the body I'd be living with for the rest of my life," he commands, moving to the other side of the room where the red armchair was. She hesitated, and that displeased him. He growled, clearly infuriated. “Do you need some kind of motivation? Because you will not get it. Take off your fucking clothes!” he thunders, making her jump and her legs shake. With shaky hands and a trembling body, she grabbed the hand of the silk gown again and dragged it down. Her eyes stayed glued to the floor, not having the audacity to look up at the alpha king across the room from her. “You’re not done yet!” *** Mia Asika had wanted only one thing for the longest time, enlightenment and the freedom to travel the world in search of it. Mia's dreams however ended the day Ariel, her beautiful and fair older sister who was betrothed to the alpha king, died the night before her marriage and she became the last resort. Hated at sight, the alpha king moved to make her union to him that of misery. Can Mia's will for survival withstand the alpha king's cold and unloving nature? Love and Chaos series Book #1 The Alpha King's Ugly Bride Book# 2 His Forbidden Mate Book #3 The Alpha King's Runaway Bride Book #4 Alpha Koz: The Abnormal Alpha

The Betrayed Ex-wife's Revenge

The image of him being happy and loving with my best friend felt like betrayal. It felt like he had launched a knife into my heart while I was struggling to breathe. How could he betray me this way? How could he betray me with my best friend? "You said you loved me." I cried out and brushed the tears running down my face away. He stared at me, and the coldness in his eyes mirrored the one his mother always had for me. "That was my greatest mistake." I felt cold. ..... Once Imela believed love was enough, but not anymore. Love was just another lie that the weak believed in to keep them from seeing the truth: that there was no place for people like them in this world.

A Weekend With The Alpha

He rose and moved towards me, my heart picking up its pace with every step he took. His hand stroked the side of my face, causing a tingle to rush through me and I shivered into his touch just like earlier. He leaned in and his breath fanned over my face, hot, weakening and mind-numbing. "You should be running, Zera." he said with a voice so raw it made me shudder against him. "The most sensible thing to do is run from someone like me." "I don't want to run." I stubborn stated, worn out with his long game. It wasn't helping anyone. He wanted me, I could see that, and I wanted him too. His nose rubbed against mine, and he moved his forehead against mine. "Oh darling, but you should. I won't be like those little boys you've been with. I won't stop when you want me to. I won't stop until I'm completely buried in your mind and soul. You will belong to me."

Hell Of A Marriage

The room is awfully quiet except for Keenan's laboured breath and my heavily pounding heart. His hands are planted on his hips and his eyes fixated on the ceiling as if he's thinking about all the regretful things he's done in his life. Why does this it feel like the beginning of another disastrous road? "What's wrong?" I ask in panic, because I wonder if he's also recollecting the events that happened last night in part like I am and regretting it. "Apparently we did more than get drunk last night," He lift the paper certificate from the bar counter and shows it to me, "we got married."

The CEO's Contract With The Thief

She rubbed her forehead profusely, "You do, you could walk away and save yourself now and I will be fine and I will understand." He glanced at her and his gaze locked and there was a level of sincerity in them, "If I save myself, who's going to save you?" ***** Jasmin Whyte was a twenty-six-year-old thief who ran away from her boyfriend after she caught him cheating, an excuse to finally leave her old life behind and start over, but when she discovered that she was two weeks pregnant for her him, she began back to her old ways. It wasn't long before she fell into trouble which was how she ran into billionaire Cainan Inferno and her life took an unexpected turn. Cainan Inferno was a thirty-three-year-old Billionaire and the CEO of The Inferno group which was the largest company in the country. He once had it all with money and looks, but his life took a sour turn after he lost his wife Neriah Gomez to cancer. Meeting Jasmin Whyte sparked the feeling he thought was long dead and he knew the only one capable of helping him move on from his late wife was her. He tracked her down and made her an offer she couldn't refuse while ignoring all the threats her past posed to his name, reputation and social status. All he asks in return was for her to steal his heart. Will she be able to do the one thing he asks or will she lose her heart in the process?

Little nerdy nightmare

"You really think I'm playing around?" He grounds at me through gritted teeth and he takes a step closer and I begin to move back. "I gave you a strict instruction and you disobeyed, you chose to rebel." There is about one zillion comeback running through my head, but my brain only focuses on the man whose green eyes has somehow turn into black because he's mad at me. "Do you know what happens to rebellious people?" I keep moving back until my back hit the wall and I hiss out in frustration. I swallow hard and try not to look at him, pissing him off would be a good thing when we aren't the only ones in the whole house. "Do you?!" He demands with a roar. "No, I don't. Tell me." I say, hiding the trembling of my voice as I look up at him. He takes a firm step close to stand intimately close to me, his height making me feel like a little child. "They get punished." *** The arrangement was, I get to meet her, propose to her, we get married as that would create a stronger bond d the two business associates, bringing us together as a family. Falling in love with her personal assistant was never part of the arrangement.

The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

I was four months pregnant, weighing over two hundred pounds, and my heart was failing from experimental treatments forced on me as a child. My doctor looked at me with clinical detachment and told me I was in a death sentence: if I kept the baby, I would die, and if I tried to remove it, I would die. Desperate for a lifeline, I called my father, Francis Acosta, to tell him I was sick and pregnant. I expected a father's love, but all I got was a cold, sharp blade of a voice. "Then do it quietly," he said. "Don't embarrass Candi. Her debutante ball is coming up." He didn't just reject me; he erased me. My trust fund was frozen, and I was told I was no longer an Acosta. My fiancé, Auston, had already discarded me, calling me a "bloated whale" while he looked for a thinner, wealthier replacement. I left New York on a Greyhound bus, weeping into a bag of chips, a broken woman the world considered a mistake. I couldn't understand how my own father could tell me to die "quietly" just to save face for a party. I didn't know why I had been a lab rat for my family’s pharmaceutical ambitions, or how they could sleep at night while I was left to rot in the gray drizzle of the city. Five years later, the doors of JFK International Airport slid open. I stepped onto the marble floor in red-soled stilettos, my body lean, lethal, and carved from years of blood and sweat. I wasn't the "whale" anymore; I was a ghost coming back to haunt them. With my daughter by my side and a medical reputation that terrified the global elite, I was ready to dismantle the Acosta empire piece by piece. "Tell Francis to wash his neck," I whispered to the skyline. "I'm home."

The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact

I was finally brought back to the billionaire Vance estate after years in the grimy foster system, but the luxury Lincoln felt more like a funeral procession. My biological family didn't welcome me with open arms; they looked at me like a stain on a silk shirt. They thought I was a "defective" mute with cognitive delays, a spare part to be traded away. Within hours of my arrival, my father decided to sell me to Julian Thorne, a bitter, paralyzed heir, just to secure a corporate merger. My sister Tiffany treated me like trash, whispering for me to "go back to the gutter" before pouring red wine over my dress in front of Manhattan's elite. When a drunk cousin tried to lay hands on me at the engagement gala, my grandmother didn't protect me-she raised her silver-topped cane to strike my face for "embarrassing the family." They called me a sacrificial lamb, laughing as they signed the prenuptial agreement that stripped me of my freedom. They had no idea I was E-11, the underground hacker-artist the world was obsessed with, or that I had already breached their private servers. I found the hidden medical records-blood types A, A, and B-a biological impossibility that proved my "parents" were harboring a scandal that could ruin them. Why bring me back just to discard me again? And why was Julian Thorne, the man supposedly bound to a wheelchair, secretly running miles at dawn on his private estate? Standing in the middle of the ballroom, I didn't plead for mercy. I used a text-to-speech app to broadcast a cold, synthetic threat: "I have the records, Richard. Do you want me to explain genetics to the press, or should we leave quietly?" With the "paralyzed" billionaire as my unexpected accomplice, I walked out of the Vance house and into a much more dangerous game.

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten.

Secret Baby: The Jilted Wife's Final Goodbye

I sat on the cold tile floor of our Upper East Side penthouse, staring at the two pink lines until my vision blurred. After ten years of loving Julian Sterling and three years of a hollow marriage, I finally had the one thing that could bridge the distance between us. I was pregnant. But Julian didn't come home with flowers for our anniversary. He tossed a thick manila envelope onto the marble coffee table with a heavy thud. Fiona, the woman he'd truly loved for years, was back in New York, and he told me our "business deal" was officially over. "Sign it," He said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. He looked at me with the cold detachment of a man selling a piece of unwanted furniture. When I hesitated, he told me to add a zero to the alimony if the money wasn't enough. I realized in that moment that if he knew about the baby, he wouldn't love me; he would simply take my child and give it to Fiona to raise. I shoved the pregnancy test into my pocket, signed the papers with a shaking hand, and lied through my teeth. When my morning sickness hit, I slumped to the floor to hide the truth. "It's just cramps," I gasped, watching him recoil as if I were contagious. To make him stay away, I invented a man named Jack-a fake boyfriend who supposedly gave me the kindness Julian never could. Suddenly, the man who wanted me gone became a monster of possessiveness. He threatened to "bury" a man who didn't exist while leaving me humiliated at his family's dinner to rush to Fiona's side. I was so broken that I even ate a cake I was deathly allergic to, then had to refuse life-saving steroids at the hospital because they would harm the fetus. Julian thinks he's stalling the divorce for two months to protect the family's reputation for his father's Jubilee. He thinks he's keeping his "property" on a short leash until the press dies down. He has no idea I'm using those sixty days to build a fortress for my child. By the time he realizes the truth, I'll be gone, and the Sterling heir will be far beyond his reach.

Burned By Him, Reborn A Star

The acrid smell of smoke still clung to Evelyn in the ambulance, her lungs raw from the penthouse fire. She was alive, but the world around her felt utterly destroyed, a feeling deepened by the small TV flickering to life. On it, her husband, Julian Vance, thousands of miles away, publicly comforted his mistress, Serena Holloway, shielding her from paparazzi after *her* "panic attack." Julian's phone went straight to voicemail. Alone in the hospital with second-degree burns, Evelyn watched news replays, her heart rate spiking. He protected Serena from camera flashes while Evelyn burned. When he finally called, he demanded she handle insurance, dismissing the fire; Serena's voice faintly heard. The shallow family ties and pretense of marriage evaporated. A searing injustice and cold anger replaced pain; Evelyn knew Julian had chosen to let her burn. "Evelyn Vance died in that fire," she declared, ripping out her IV. Armed with a secret fortune as "The Architect," Hollywood's top ghostwriter, she walked out. She would divorce Julian, reclaim her name, and finally step into the spotlight as an actress.

Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don

On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up. As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress. The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me. The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one. With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered. I chose the one man they never expected. I chose his father, the Don himself.