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A Wife for the Billionaire

-WARNING - ADULT AND MATURED SCENES WERE DEPICTED IN THIS BOOK In the game of love, these two players don't intend to win. *Dual POV:* *Richard Wellington's Story* Born with a weak heart, billionaire Richard Wellington has always shielded himself from love, fearing the risk of heartbreak. But when his parents insist he chooses a wife from a selection of 15 high-society candidates, Richard must confront his deepest fears. *Sofia Blake (Reed)'s Story* Fashion enthusiast Sofia Blake has been burned by love and believes it's a fool's game. Desperate to escape her cruel stepmother and evil stepsisters, Sofia accepts a job as Richard's personal assistant and judge for his wife search. But as she navigates the treacherous waters of high society, Sofia finds herself drawn to the one man she's supposed to resist. As Richard and Sofia work together, their initial disdain for each other slowly gives way to a forbidden attraction. But with their past heartaches and fears threatening to tear them apart, can they find a way to heal and open their hearts to each other? Will the Wellington Empire's legacy be secured, or will Richard and Sofia's love be the downfall of everything they hold dear?" What happens when these two individuals who hate each other and are unreceptive to love, starts growing feelings for each other?

Henry_Raggins · Urban
Not enough ratings
54 Chs

RICHARD

Remembering what was - could drag like a dead weight. Recollections of the past, like an anchor pulling one down to the darkest depths.

And of all times, I had to recall all these minutes before I faced the most annoying pricks on the planet.

If it was in my power, I would have canceled today's board meeting. Too bad I didn't have veto power.

It's been two minutes since Vera delivered my father's message. Two minutes that have stretched like forever with wraiths of times I wished to forget. Times I wished to erase.

Gathering the pieces of my broken self, I rose to go chair my board meeting. This wasn't the first time, neither will it be the last, my past will always haunt me. It will always stalk me, like a shadow - always near, always present.

There's this ridiculous notion about being broken. People assume one can be mended, that the pieces of one's shattered self could mend with time.